JAMIE
It'd been a day since Andrew's revelation in the pack hall, but the echo of his words still resonated within my head, like it was burned into the silence.
"I want to put an end to the rumours. There's no truth in them. Not now, not ever."
My fingers followed the edge of the weathered wooden desk in my bedroom. It groaned softly under my fingers, dust dancing in the air as if it too was holding its breath.
I hadn't shifted since.
And worse, my wolf had gone silent.
Not vanished, no. Just. Quiet. Faint.
I tried to reach out to him the night after, seeking that reassuring pull, that thrum of heat beneath my skin that always surged in Andrew's presence. Nothing. A dull buzz, like air stuck between panes of glass.
Not like by the lake.
Not like in the treehouse when Andrew kissed me and the axis of the world shifted.
I pulled at my hair, angry. That dream—my mother's voice, the strange tower, the hushed name—I couldn't let go of any of it. She had glared at me and said, "Remember who you are," and then vanished into nothingness. And then that final whisper that cracked my chest like glass:
"Andrew, the key."
But what if the key had already closed the door?
A knock was heard on the doorframe. I did not need to turn.
"I know that knock," I said. "You always pause as if you're changing your mind."
Ann entered the room, holding two mugs. One of the cinnamon tea steaming. The other. Cocoa
"You looked like you could use something hot," she said gently, holding out the cocoa.
I took it in silence.
She didn't speak right away. Just slid onto the bench across from me, pulling her knees up like she used to when we'd hide from chores as kids.
"You're quieter than usual," she said finally.
"I feel quieter than usual."
Her eyes lingered on me. "Is it him?"
I didn't need to answer.
I sat there instead, gazing out of the window. The snow hadn't ceased all day. It blanketed the trees, blanketed the ground, but couldn't even hide the cold.
"He hasn't spoken to me," I admitted.
Ann raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he doesn't know what to say."
"Or maybe he meant what he said, and that was the end of it." I breathed out. "Since everything. Everything since then, my wolf's barely spoken a word. He's still there. I feel him. But he's thinner. Like a candle flickering in a storm."
Ann didn't answer, but wasn't hollow either. Her quiet was the type that weighed.
"You think he snapped something in you?" she asked.
"I think." I stopped. "I think I knew more than I admitted."
She leaned forward, tone richer. "And do you think your wolf is yielding—or waiting?"
The question hung there, too great to be answered.
"I don't know," I said. "But I can still hear her voice. My mother. She said to remember who I am. Then she said Andrew is the key."
Ann's eyebrows crinkled. "To what?"
"I wish I knew."
Silence fell again, but one that didn't need to be broken. She leaned over the bench and put her hand on top of mine.
"Whatever this is, Jamie. You're not alone in it."
I nodded, looking out at the snow outside, not trusting myself to get words out.
Because the truth was, I didn't feel alone.
I felt watched.
And I could sense things were only just beginning.
******
OONA
The flame of the oil lamp swirled, casting golden dancing shadows up over the curved Elder chamber wall. The runes that were etched into the rocks glowed faintly, age-old magic resonating like the distant song remembered by few.
Elder Maelin strode across the room before the window, his countenance a storm of suppressed thunder.
"It was wrong to allow the boy to be heard," he snarled.
Oona, sitting in the middle, arched a brow. "Quite the opposite. Letting him lie was a kindness. Now we understand just how far he'll go to maintain that horror of a bond."
Maelin's lip curled. "Weakness."
"No," Oona purred, smiling with her mouth. "It's fear. And we can leverage fear.".
She rose, her robes flowing around her ankles like ripples on a serene lake. Her fingertips trailed over the back of an old book, The Order of Lineage.
"He might have fooled the pack this time around, but we can roll the tides. Sow doubt. Make them wonder if he has the right."
Maelin's eyes clouded. "And what about the beta boy? My son is ready."
Oona's gaze narrowed. "Then we plant the seed. A challenge to Andrew's rule. An alternative to chaos. A leader with no damned bond and no. Lunaris blood."
Maelin's fists were bunched at his side. "And if Andrew won't relinquish?"
Her smile was a knife. "Then we make him fall."
Outside, the wind howled across the hills, and somewhere far in the forest—
The Moon watched.
And waited.