Freya: The road stretched ahead of us in lazy curves, the kind of quiet stretch that made the world feel smaller. Trees lined both sides, their skeletal branches clawing at the dull sky like desperate hands, and the hum of the tires on the old asphalt was the only real sound between us for a while. I shifted in my seat, arms crossed, eyes flicking toward him with a scowl that refused to sit still on my face. Ethan looked annoyingly relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, his fingers tapping a slow, absent rhythm that grated on my nerves. “Why are we driving out of the Pack?” I asked, suspicion. My voice was flat, but I knew he’d hear the edge beneath it. He glanced at me, one brow arching like he couldn’t believe I was questioning him. “I just want to be somewhere quiet. Outside. Where people aren’t staring.” I sucked in a slow breath, rolling the words around in my head before I let them settle in my chest like a stone. Right. Of course
Lianna: The sky outside was a muted grey, thick clouds sagging low, the kind that promised a long, lazy rain. It made everything inside feel warmer. Safer. Wrapped in a cocoon of blankets that smelled faintly of cedar and the soap Edward used, I let my head fall against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart under my ear. We’d spent the entire afternoon tangled in sheets, trading slow kisses and breathless laughter, bodies molded together as time passed. And now, after all that, we stayed close, his arms looped around me like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go. “A penny for your thoughts?” Edward murmured. I sighed, twisting the thin golden ring on my index finger. “I’m thinking about Ethan.” His body tensed beneath me. Subtle, but noticeable. Like his breath had paused. “I know he’s up to something,” I went on, keeping my tone casual, though the truth of it gnawed at me. “He keeps saying he’s going to win me back. Like I’m some sort of p
Lianna: I'd never been so enraged and uncomfortable at the same time. I didn't know exactly what to feel because there was a lot happening in my head. The clink of my fork against the porcelain plate was sharper than I intended. I felt the scrape of metal teeth grinding into the delicate glaze, and my fingers curled tighter around the handle. Across the table, Mariel’s perfectly arched brows lifted as she made a small, overly theatrical gasp. “Oh dear,” she said, her voice dipped in a sweetness that tasted like poison. “Are you alright, Lianna? You stabbed that turkey like it owed you money.” I glanced at the offending piece of meat on my plate. Sure enough, I’d nearly shredded it into an unrecognizable heap of fibers, juices pooling in the grooves of my knife work. I forced a slow breath through my nose, the scent of roasted garlic and thyme doing little to soothe the sudden wave of irritation clawing at my chest. “I’m fine,” I replied, dragging the words out
Edward: My glare found Mariel like a blade finding its mark, and I didn’t bother softening it. She just sat there, calm as you please, fingers lazily tracing the rim of her wine glass. Like she was toying with the idea of slitting someone’s throat. Probably mine. “You’re pushing it,” I said. Ethan snorted from across the table. “Relax, Edward. You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.” I snapped my head toward him. “And you’re acting like you’ve got a death wish. Don’t test me.” He just lifted his hands in mock surrender. I turned back to Mariel, ignoring the slight tilt of her mouth. Amusement. She always was a master of pretending she held all the cards. “Why the hell are you here?” I ground out. She shrugged, that infuriatingly delicate lift of her shoulders she used to make men stumble over themselves. Not anymore. “I told you I’d be visiting during the Lycan Confederate meeting,” she said lightly. “Did I agree to that?” My voice was
Ethan: The moment Edward stormed out of the room, I exhaled slowly and leaned back in my chair. My fingers tapped lazily on the stem of my wine glass as I watched Mariel standing there like she’d just been gutted. Honestly, I’d never loved a moment more. She blinked fast, like she was fighting tears but too damn proud to let them fall. That alone made me sit up straighter, lifting my glass to my lips as if I were toasting the disaster that had just unfolded. Mariel’s gaze slid to me, burning with something between frustration and grief. “Don’t say anything, Ethan,” she bit out, her voice tight, like it scraped her throat just getting the words out. “I swear, I can’t take it from you right now.” I smiled slowly. “Relax. I’ve got absolutely nothing to say.” I tilted my head, studying her with an idle curiosity I didn’t bother masking. “Just… wondering why it ended the way it did. Edward’s never exactly been chatty about you. Or anything, really. Guy’s tighter-lipped
Edward: The moment Lianna’s breathing evened out, I rose from the edge of the bed and straightened. Her back was to me, her shoulders tight even in sleep, like she was bracing for another blow that wouldn’t come. Carefully, I pulled the covers higher over her bare shoulder. I stood there for a long minute, watching the gentle rise and fall of her back. My jaw clenched tight. None of this should’ve happened. Mariel never should’ve stepped foot in this house. And now, because I hadn’t dealt with her the moment she crossed my gates, Lianna was in this bed trying to convince herself I wasn’t another mistake. That wasn’t going to happen again. I shoved my hand through my hair, flexing my fingers to shake off the restless itch under my skin. I walked out, shutting the door behind me with a controlled click. Ingrid straightened from where she stood outside, but I waved her off before she could speak. “Stay here,” I ordered, and she nodded without protest. The cor
Lianna: I woke up to silence, the kind that draped over everything like a heavy wool blanket. Imogen’s soft snores were gone. She must have retreated to her room a while ago. Good for her. She had the sense to sleep through this misery. I, on the other hand, had the misfortune of being conscious. And thirsty. So damn thirsty. I swiped my palm across my face, grimacing at the stickiness on my skin from dried tears. No glass of water on the nightstand. Of course. No maid hovering about with one either. Why would they? I was supposed to be the Luna. Supposed to be cared for, respected. But it sure as hell didn’t feel like that tonight. With a muttered curse, I swung my legs over the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold marble floor. The chill bit into my skin, but I welcomed it. Pain was better than… this hollow ache inside. Wrapping my arms around myself, I padded toward the door. It creaked slightly as I eased it open and slipped out into the dim corridor. The palace
Lianna: I woke tangled in Edward’s arms, and if it were another day, I would have gone back to sleep and enjoyed the comfort of his arms. But I’d had enough of lying still, enough of waiting for someone else to make the first move. I wasn’t going to be the woman who watched things happen to her anymore. Not today. Careful not to wake him, I eased out of his grasp. His hand slid down my side before falling away completely. I held my breath, pausing to be sure he stayed asleep. For a man who carried entire kingdoms on his shoulders, he looked annoyingly peaceful. I slipped out of bed, feet silent on the cold floor. The chill bit at my skin as I pulled on my training clothes—black leggings, a snug sleeveless top, and bandages wound tight around my wrists and knuckles. My boots were next, worn leather creaking softly as I laced them. I dragged my hair into a braid, tying it off with a sharp tug, and then slid out of the room without a sound. The hallway was empty. Eve
Lianna: I woke him with a kiss. It was gentle and slow, the kind that lingered on his lips like sunlight brushing the edge of dawn. His skin was warm beneath mine, soft and familiar. He stirred slowly, lashes fluttering like leaves catching the breeze before his eyes opened, that drowsy gray haze still clinging to them. “Is it time?” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with sleep. It was the kind of voice that made it feel like the world was still paused for us. I nodded, fingers brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Yeah. It's time.” He sighed, sitting up reluctantly. I could tell his body felt heavier than usual—grief had a weight all on its own. Still, he moved, slow but sure, like he owed it to himself to keep going. I slid off the bed to help him, but the rug betrayed me. My heel caught on the edge and I pitched forward with a sharp gasp. And just b
Lianna: The Palace was too quiet. That kind of quiet that sat thick on the skin like humidity before a storm, smothering and heavy, as if the very walls were mourning. The corridors were dimly lit, the sun long gone, and I could hear the distant creak of wooden beams settling overhead, slow and reluctant, like the house itself didn’t want to exist in this version of our reality. Edward hadn’t said a word in hours. He lay curled on his side, one arm slung carelessly over the edge of the bed, his knuckles pale against the white linen. His lashes fluttered occasionally like he was trapped somewhere between sleep and waking. Sometimes he’d blink open his eyes and just stare blankly at the ceiling, unmoving, unblinking, lost in a place I couldn’t reach. I sat behind him, cross-legged, one hand tracing slow circles along his back. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the bare slope of his waist. The skin there was cool, soft beneath my fingertips, marred only by the faint scar
Lianna: The morning light was shy, barely bleeding through the velvet curtains when I cracked my eyes open. I didn’t need a clock to know what day it was. My chest already felt like it was caving in. The air hung heavy, saturated with that stale chill that often preceded sorrow. A mourning fog rolled outside our window like some prophetic omen, brushing ghostlike tendrils across the glass. Edward hadn’t moved beside me. His breath rose and fell in shallow waves, his hand still loosely curled around mine like he feared I’d disappear in my sleep. I shifted slowly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. We were going to banish his brother. I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, the fabric swishing softly against my bare skin. My toes hit the floor with a shiver, the marble tiles beneath me as merciless as the decisions we had to make today. My robe hung at the edge of the armchair, still draped from the night before. I sl
Freya: The night felt too loud for how quiet it was. Crickets whined in the grass like tiny, angry violins, and the wind kept slipping through the cracked wooden shutters, brushing cool air against my bare arms like an unwelcome ghost. I was lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers I’d been chasing in circles. My bed creaked with the slightest shift, the old mattress groaning beneath the weight of my body. I shouldn't have come back here. I shouldn’t have returned to this house. I shouldn’t have ever listened to her. My chest ached. That tight, slow burn of regret that started somewhere beneath my ribs and dragged itself up to my throat like it had claws. I reached up and rubbed the heel of my palm against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that had already found their way to my pillow. My face was warm, wet. I could taste salt. My breath shuddered on the exhale. “I didn’t want this,” I whispered into the room, voice barely audible over
Edward: The eggs Tarantino made were, as he warned me, an absolute disaster. But the bread was warm, and it was good enough to make me forget about the burnt rubber taste of the eggs. We ate in silence, only the scraping of silverware and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air. My mind wasn’t exactly on the food anyway; it was stuck on the conversation we’d had earlier. Tarantino was right, of course. Everything happens for a reason. I could hear the words repeating in my head, like a stubborn echo bouncing off the walls. But as much as I wanted to believe him, that sentiment did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. Nothing could change the fact that I was sending my brother into exile, to a life without the Pack, without me, without any of the privileges that came with being a royal. But I couldn’t just let the sorrow flood over me, not in front of Tarantino. Not in front of the only person who still seemed to see me for more than just my title. So I swallowe
Edward: The drive was long, and Harvey wouldn’t stop humming that off-key tune under his breath like he was trying to win some invisible award for irritation. I didn’t say anything because well, silence stretching between us felt safer than opening my mouth and letting all the tangled thoughts spill out. My jaw ached from clenching it too tight. My nails had dug half-moons into my palm by the time we pulled into the small, quiet Pack territory that felt like the world had forgotten it. “I remember this place being a dusty excuse of a town,” I muttered, eyes flicking over the paved roads and fresh buildings. “Now look at it. They have actual sidewalks. I should’ve sent Ethan here for humility training.” Harvey chuckled but didn’t comment. Smart choice. It’d been years since I last came here. I was just a boy, clinging to my father’s hand while he laughed and pointed at the bakery with the awful scones and the house with the broken weather vane that somehow never got
Lianna: The palace had never been this quiet. Not even during the former Alpha's father’s funeral, when the halls were draped in black silk and everyone spoke in whispers like mourning had a volume limit. No. This silence was different. It hung in the air like a mist, curling around the columns, sliding under doors, seeping into my skin like cold. I sat on the balcony, elbows on the marble balustrade, chin resting against the back of my hand. My eyes drifted somewhere beyond the courtyard, past the rustling hedges and the guards stationed like statues, to a place I couldn’t name. The sky was pale and slow today, the clouds dragging their feet like even they couldn’t be bothered to hurry. A soft breeze combed through my hair, lifting strands across my face, and I didn’t bother to tuck them behind my ear. Ingrid was beside me, her legs propped up on the ornate table, scrolling through her phone like it held the cure to this numbness
Ethan: The moment Edward’s footsteps faded from the dungeon, I felt my chest constrict. I was alone. And not in the usual way where I sought solitude; this time, I felt like I was suffocating. I collapsed to my knees, the cold, damp floor seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My tears came in torrents, hot and bitter, an unforgiving reminder of everything I had lost, everything I had thrown away. There was no one left to blame but myself. I didn’t even care how pathetic I looked at this moment. All I wanted was the sting of reality to fade, even if only for a second so I could catch a sense of monetary relief. The memories of my life before all this pain before Freya, before Lianna, before the twisted path I had walked flashed through my mind like a parade of ghosts. I remembered how everything had been so simple back then. It was supposed to be me and Lianna, always. We had a bond, a bond that nothing could break, or so
Edward: The echo of my boots against the marble hallway was all I could hear as I stepped out of the study, my hand still clenched from how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the desk moments ago. My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I told myself I wasn’t going to interfere. I promised Lianna I wouldn’t. But promises made in the eye of a storm rarely stand when the wind changes. And gods, it changed. The moment the elders started screaming over each other like a pack of senile hounds, all clamoring for blood, I had to shut them up. I didn’t even remember raising my voice until the silence hit. Until they all turned to me, and I, like a damn fool, spoke the decree. Now my baby brother would be banished to the Drekavac Hollow, and somehow, my voice had sealed it. The air grew colder the deeper I went, but I barely noticed. My fingers brushed the stone walls out of