The air in the main hall was thick with distrust. Esther sat in the corner, her hands still bound with silver-lined chains, a quiet smirk playing on her lips. Her very presence set everyone on edge, a fox pretending to help the henhouse. Jake leaned against the far wall, arms crossed and his eyes glued to her every move, while Fatima busied herself gathering herbs and spell ingredients in the adjoining room. Althea paced near the large wooden table, her magic buzzing faintly in the air, a testament to her unease.As for me, I stood at the head of the table, trying to focus on the task at hand. The pack’s barrier had been our first line of defense, and without it, we were exposed. Vulnerable. I had to figure out a way to rebuild it, even if that meant working with someone like Esther.“We don’t need her,” Jake growled, his voice low but firm. “We can figure this out on our own.”“Can we?” I countered, my voice steady but not unkind. “She knows the Shadow Circle’s magic better than any
The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden hues across the packhouse. For the first time in weeks, it felt like we could breathe. The air still carried the weight of past battles, but for now, it was calm—a much-needed reprieve. Jake had left early to coordinate patrols, leaving me with Althea and Fatima to focus on what was quickly becoming our primary objective: fixing the barrier. It had been destroyed too easily during the last attack, and without it, the pack was vulnerable. Fatima stretched on the couch, her coffee mug balanced precariously on the armrest. “You know, for all the drama about magic, it’s kind of boring watching you two poke at spells all day.” Althea, sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by old spellbooks, shot her an irritated glance. “Maybe if you helped, it wouldn’t feel so boring.” “I’m human, remember?” Fatima replied with a smirk. “Magic isn’t exactly in my skill set.” I chuckled, flipping through another book. “Don’t
The morning of my birthday arrived like any other day, except for the suspicious smiles and hushed voices that seemed to follow me around the packhouse. I could tell something was up, but no one would say a word. Even Jake had been unusually evasive, flashing his charming smile whenever I questioned him.“You’ll find out later,” he teased, brushing a kiss on my forehead before disappearing to attend to patrol duties.I sighed, wandering into the kitchen where the tantalizing scent of coffee and pastries greeted me. Althea and Fatima were already there, sitting at the counter with Sophie, who was helping herself to a cinnamon roll.“Morning, birthday girl!” Fatima chirped, holding up a mug of coffee as if in salute.“Happy birthday!” Althea added, her usually reserved expression softening into a genuine smile.“Thanks,” I said, taking the mug from Fatima. “You guys are acting weird. What’s going on?”“Who, us?” Fatima feigned innocence, nudging Sophie, who stifled a giggle. “We’re just
The moon was high in the sky, casting a soft silver glow over the forest. I stood on the balcony outside my room, the cool night air brushing against my skin. My birthday had been nothing like I imagined—sweet moments interrupted by the weight of our responsibilities. I let out a sigh, resting my hands on the railing. The stars twinkled above, indifferent to my turmoil, and the world felt quiet, too quiet. “Penny for your thoughts?” I turned to see Jake leaning against the doorframe, his tall frame silhouetted against the warm light from my room. He had that mischievous smile that made my heart skip a beat, but there was something softer in his eyes tonight. “You don’t have enough pennies,” I teased, trying to hide the mix of emotions swirling inside me. Jake stepped forward, his movements deliberate, until he was standing right in front of me. His hands rested on the railing on either side of me, trapping me in the most delicious way. “Then tell me for free,” he murmured,
I sat on the floor of Althea’s room, ancient books and scrolls spread out in front of us. The tension in the air was thick as we pored over spell after spell, searching for the answer to locating the coven. “I think I found it,” Althea said, her voice barely above a whisper. I looked up, hope sparking in my chest. “You’re sure?” She nodded, pushing the book toward me. “It’s a locating spell, but it requires a deep connection to the person or group you’re searching for. For this to work, I’ll have to put you into a sleep state—a deep one. Your subconscious will guide us.” I frowned, tracing the lines of the spell with my finger. The description was vague, mentioning that the subject might encounter visions or truths hidden in their own mind. It wasn’t just sleep—it was an invitation to the unknown. Jake would hate this. “I don’t know, Althea,” I said hesitantly. “It’s the best option we’ve found,” she said, her tone insistent. “The coven is hiding their location with powe
The first rays of dawn were breaking through the dense forest canopy when I emerged from the packhouse. The cool morning air carried a crispness that made my skin prickle, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt like a promise—a new day, a new start. Jake had been quieter than usual since last night. I could still feel the weight of his anger and fear, but we hadn’t spoken about the spell or the vision. Not yet. My head was still spinning from what Esther had shown me, and I wasn’t sure how to explain it without causing more tension between us. The sound of voices from the communal hall drew me out of my thoughts. When I stepped inside, the room was already buzzing. Althea stood at the head of the table, a large map spread out in front of her. Fatima, Sophie, and several pack members were gathered around, their faces a mixture of curiosity and determination. Jake was there too, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. His eyes met mine as I walked in, and for a brief moment, th
The world around me shifted and twisted, like a storm caught in a dream. Colors bled into one another—vivid reds, golds, and blacks swirling in chaotic harmony. I blinked, but it was as though I had no control over my own body. When I tried to move, I couldn’t. Then the storm stilled. I was standing in a place that wasn’t real, yet felt overwhelmingly tangible. It was a room bathed in a dim, golden light. Velvet drapes hung from the high ceilings, and the air smelled of incense and something metallic. And there she was. Esther. She sat on a throne made of twisted black roots and jagged stone, her figure draped in a flowing crimson gown. Her pale face was framed by wild, jet-black hair, and her eyes—those unnatural, piercing eyes—bored into mine with an intensity that made my heart pound. “You’ve finally arrived,” she said, her voice smooth and dripping with malice. “Where am I?” I demanded, my voice shaking. She smirked. “Where do you think, little wolf? You’re in my domain
The morning air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth as we stepped into the dense forest. The towering trees cast long shadows over our group, their branches intertwined like a living canopy. I tightened the straps of my pack, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. We were finally on the hunt. Jake led the way, his posture tense, every step deliberate. Althea walked beside me, her fingers brushing over the spellbook she clutched like a lifeline. Fatima and Sophie trailed behind, their senses sharp, scanning the woods for any signs of danger. “Everyone ready?” Jake’s deep voice broke the silence, his gaze sweeping over us. “As ready as we’ll ever be,” I replied, trying to inject some confidence into my tone. “Good,” he said, his jaw set. “Stay close. This forest has a reputation.” “A reputation for what?” Fatima asked, her voice wary. “Being alive,” Jake answered grimly. We exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. The first hour of our
The wind outside howled like a wounded beast, rattling against the windows of our bedroom. I sat curled up on the bed, staring at the flickering candlelight, lost in the void of my thoughts. It had been days—weeks, maybe—since I had truly allowed myself to feel anything but pain.Grief was a strange thing. Some days, it felt like drowning in deep, dark waters with no way to surface. Other days, it was a dull ache, like an old wound that never quite healed. The nights were the worst, though. That was when the silence grew unbearable, when I swore I could still feel my child’s presence, even though he was gone.Jake had been distant, too. Not in the way that meant he didn’t care—no, his love was still there, burning just as fiercely. But he was grieving in his own way, carrying the weight of our loss on his shoulders, his guilt, and pain suffocating him.Tonight, I couldn’t take it anymore.I slipped out of bed, the floor cold beneath my bare feet. My body still felt weak, my magic stil
The world felt different. Colder. Emptier. Days had passed since I lost my baby, but it felt like time had frozen. The sun still rose, but it didn’t shine the same. The wind still blew, but it didn’t carry warmth. The pack moved around me as if life continued as usual, but I couldn’t feel it. Everything had dulled, stripped of color and meaning. But the worst part of it all—the thing that made it unbearable—was Jake. He was slipping away from me. At first, I thought it was just grief. He buried himself in work, focused on rebuilding the pack, strengthening its warriors, and tightening its defenses. I understood. I did the same in my own way, throwing myself into research, looking for answers, hoping—praying—that there was still something I could do. But it wasn’t just grief. It was something more. He was changing. The first time I noticed it was during training. I stood on the edge of the training field, watching him spar with his warriors. Normally, Jake was controlle
I woke up to silence. A deafening, suffocating silence. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles flickering on the nightstand. My body felt heavy, drained of all energy, like I had been hollowed out from the inside. A dull ache throbbed in my stomach, but nothing compared to the unbearable emptiness clawing at my soul. Then I remembered. The pain. The blood. The agonizing screams that had torn from my throat as I begged the universe to spare him. My child. My baby. My chest heaved, but no tears came. I had cried everything out. I was nothing but an empty shell now. A movement to my right caught my attention, and I turned my head slightly. Jake sat in the chair beside my bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. His head was bowed, dark hair falling over his face, but even in the dim light, I could see the tension in his body. He was barely holding himself together. I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “Jake…” His head snapped
The morning was peaceful, deceptively so. The kind of quiet that made my heart uneasy. The pack had been rebuilding itself from the damage done in recent months, and today felt like a fresh start—or at least I tried to convince myself of that.I sat at the large wooden table in the packhouse, sipping tea while watching Fatima and Sophie bicker about who made the better breakfast. The scent of eggs, sausage, and pancakes filled the air, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Jake was out with his warriors, reinforcing our border patrols, while Althea and I planned another round of protective spells for the territory.“Are you going to eat that or just stare at it?” Fatima asked, nudging my plate with her fork.I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at my food for too long. My appetite had been all over the place lately—some days I couldn’t eat enough, and others, I could barely stomach anything.“I’m eating, I’m eating,” I mumbled, picking up my fork and forcing a bite of eggs into m
PRISCA’S POVI woke up with a sharp gasp, my lungs burning as if I had been holding my breath for too long. The room was still dark, and the only sound was the soft rustling of the wind outside. My body felt heavy, my limbs sluggish, and an eerie chill wrapped around me despite the warmth of the blankets. Something was wrong. I pushed myself up slowly, trying to shake off the discomfort. The feeling in the air wasn’t just cold—it was unnatural. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed darker than usual, stretching and pulsing as if they were alive. My heart pounded as I glanced toward the door, expecting something—anything—to be there. But the room was empty. Just a bad dream, I told myself. A side effect of everything weighing on me. But as I moved to stand, a voice whispered in my ear. *"You must listen."* I froze. My entire body tensed as cold dread seeped into my bones. Slowly, I turned my head toward the mirror in the corner of the room. My reflection should
I sat in my office, staring at the wall as the weight of everything threatened to crush me. My mate, my unborn child, my pack—everything was hanging by a thread, and I felt powerless. Prisca had finally told me the truth, and it shattered me in ways I couldn’t put into words. She was given an impossible choice. One where no matter what she decided, she would lose something—either our child or me. How the hell was I supposed to accept that? My fingers clenched into fists against my desk as a growl rumbled low in my chest. No. I wouldn’t accept it. Fate had already tried to take too much from me. I had lost warriors, friends, people who depended on me to lead them. But my family? That was where I drew the line. There had to be another way. I pushed back from my desk and stood, my muscles tense as I made my decision. I couldn’t sit here and wait for fate to take its course. I had to act. I walked out of my office and made my way down the dimly lit halls of the packhouse. Most o
The moment I stepped into our bedroom, I knew something was wrong. Prisca sat on the edge of the bed, her back to me, staring out the window. The moonlight cast a soft glow on her, making her seem almost ethereal, but the tension in her shoulders gave her away. She was deep in thought, troubled. Lately, she'd been distant. At first, I chalked it up to the pregnancy—mood swings, exhaustion, the usual things that came with carrying a child. But this was different. There was something *heavier* weighing on her, something she wasn’t telling me. I had given her space, thinking maybe she just needed time to process things on her own, but time had only made it worse. I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Prisca, what's going on?" She flinched. *Flinched.* I immediately withdrew my hand, my stomach twisting. My mate had never reacted to me like that before. She turned to face me, her expression unreadable. “Nothing, Jake. I’m just t
I spent the entire morning with Althea, flipping through ancient grimoires, searching desperately for a spell that could summon Esther. My hands trembled as I traced the inked symbols in an old book, my mind racing with the possibilities of what we might discover. We had been through this before, and every attempt had failed. But this time, it felt different. This time, we needed answers. The room was dimly lit, the scent of burning sage and lavender thick in the air. The candles flickered unnaturally, as if something unseen was already lurking, waiting for us to call upon it. I swallowed hard and looked at my sister. “Are you sure about this?” Althea asked, her voice steady but filled with caution. “Summoning a spirit isn’t like calling on just any entity. Esther is powerful, and she’s—” “Unpredictable?” I finished for her. Althea nodded. “To say the least.” I clenched my fists, my determination outweighing my fear. “I don’t have a choice, Althea. I need to know how to save
I woke up feeling… strange. It wasn’t the usual exhaustion from pregnancy or the occasional morning sickness. This was different. It was as if something unseen crackled in the air around me, a tingling sensation running up and down my spine. My dreams had been odd, but that wasn’t new—I had been plagued with visions ever since we returned to the pack. Shaking off the unease, I sat up and stretched. The room was quiet, sunlight filtering in through the curtains, but something felt off. I glanced around, half expecting something to be lurking in the shadows. Nothing. Just my mind playing tricks on me. "Okay, Prisca. Breathe," I muttered to myself before sliding out of bed. As I padded to the bathroom, the floorboards creaked louder than usual. The second I stepped onto the tile, the faucet turned on by itself, water gushing out forcefully as if someone had yanked it open. I froze. My pulse quickened. I hadn't touched it. Swallowing hard, I reached for the knob and twisted it