Selene learned to measure time in heartbeats.
Three of them.
Fast. Uneven. Wild.
She lay still in the narrow bed, eyes open, listening to the soft rhythm of breathing that filled the small apartment. The room was dim, early morning light barely creeping through the thin curtains. Outside, the city was just beginning to wake—cars humming, distant voices drifting up from the street below.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Selene slowly turned her head.
Curled together on the mattress beside her were her children.
Three small bodies, tangled in blankets and limbs, dark hair and flushed cheeks pressed together as if even sleep could not convince them to stay apart. They were five years old now—too big to fit comfortably in her bed, yet they refused to sleep anywhere else.
Her sons.
Her daughter.
Her secret.
Selene's chest tightened with a familiar mix of love and fear.
They looked human enough like this. Innocent. Peaceful.
But she knew what slept beneath their skin.
She carefully slipped out of bed, moving on instinct, years of practice keeping her steps silent. The floor creaked softly, but none of them stirred. She paused, watching their chests rise and fall.
Please. Just one more quiet morning.
She padded into the small kitchen and began her routine. Kettle on. Bread out. Bags packed. She checked the locks—once, twice—then the windows. Habit born from fear, reinforced by survival.
Five years ago, she had vanished.
No goodbye. No trace.
She had crossed pack borders, changed names, burned bridges, and buried the part of herself that still ached when the bond pulled too tightly. She had told herself that running was the only way to protect them.
To protect him from discovering the truth.
Selene pressed a hand to her chest as the familiar ache stirred.
The bond had never broken.
It had dulled over time, numbed by distance and willpower, but it was still there. A faint, constant tug at the back of her soul, reminding her that somewhere in the world, Alpha Silas Blackclaw still existed.
Still breathed.
Still hunted.
A small sound broke her thoughts.
"Mama?"
Selene turned quickly.
Her daughter stood in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Lyra was the smallest of the three but the sharpest. Her eyes—too silver for a child—watched everything.
"I'm awake," Lyra said solemnly.
"I see that," Selene smiled softly. "Come here."
Lyra padded over and climbed into Selene's arms without a word, curling against her chest. Selene kissed her hair, breathing in her scent.
Warm. Wild. Wolf.
Behind her, two more small figures appeared.
"Is it morning?" Kai asked, already wide awake, energy crackling off him.
"I'm hungry," Rowan announced bluntly.
Selene laughed quietly. "Of course you are."
They crowded into the kitchen, filling the small space with life and noise. Kai climbed onto a chair and immediately began talking about a dream involving flying and fire. Rowan watched silently, eyes sharp and observant, already noticing things most children missed.
Too perceptive.
That was what scared her the most.
"School today?" Kai asked.
Selene's smile faltered for half a second. "Yes. But remember what we talked about."
All three nodded.
No shifting.
No glowing eyes.
No losing control.
They had rules. Strict ones. Rules born from too many close calls.
Lyra's lip trembled. "I didn't mean to last time."
"I know," Selene said gently, crouching to meet her gaze. "But people notice things they don't understand. And wolves like us have to be careful."
Wolves like us.
She hated that she had to teach them fear.
Breakfast passed without incident. Shoes on. Jackets zipped. Selene herded them out the door, heart pounding as always when they stepped into the wider world.
The walk to school was short, but Selene remained alert, senses stretched thin. She scanned every face, every passing scent, every shadow.
Paranoia, some might call it.
She called it survival.
At the school gates, Kai ran ahead. Rowan followed more slowly, pausing to look back at her.
"You're worried again," he said.
Selene swallowed. "I'm always worried."
Rowan studied her with eyes far too old for his face. "You don't have to be. We're strong."
Her throat tightened. "That's what scares me."
He considered that, then nodded once and turned away.
Selene watched them disappear into the building, forcing herself to breathe only after the doors closed behind them.
Another day.
She turned away, unaware that fate had finally caught up to her.
---
The scream shattered everything.
It came less than an hour later.
Selene was halfway down the street when it ripped through the air—sharp, terrified, unmistakably Lyra's.
Her blood turned to ice.
She ran.
By the time she reached the school courtyard, chaos had erupted. Teachers shouted. Children cried. Parents stared in horror.
And at the center of it all—
Her children.
Kai stood frozen, eyes glowing bright silver, his hands clenched as if he didn't know what to do with the power thrumming through him. Rowan was half-shifted, claws extended, snarling at anyone who came too close.
And Lyra—
Lyra had shifted completely.
A small silver wolf stood where her daughter had been, fur bristling, eyes wild with fear.
The world went silent.
Selene dropped to her knees.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no—"
Someone screamed again. Phones were raised. Videos recorded.
It was too late.
She wrapped her arms around Lyra, pulling her close despite the sharp claws, pressing her face into soft fur.
"It's okay," she whispered desperately. "Mama's here."
Lyra's wolf whimpered.
The bond inside Selene snapped violently, flaring with pain and terror.
Far away, an Alpha lifted his head.
And five years of searching finally ended