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13 years ago.
Romy’s POV
“Heavens, Romy! You either pick that doll up or I swear, I'll rip its head off its poorly invested neck!” My mother screamed, filled with a fury I had come accustomed to over the years.
I flinched, and the doll slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. One of her glass eyes caught the light and stared up at me like she was just as startled.
Mother was already moving. She always moved when she was angry, like every step announced to everyone how angry she was.
“Your birth alone has cost us enough,” she said, and this time her voice wavered. “Must you always remind me of it?”
But the thing was, I wasn't waving it. I never did.
Still, my hand went to the back of my neck, fingers pressing against the place that was always too warm. The skin there throbbed faintly, like it had its own heartbeat.
“Pick up that doll this instant and make this room presentable. You will not ruin your sister’s day the way you have ruined our lives!”
“Belly, enough!” Father’s voice came from the doorway. Low, and probably tired from all the constant yelling he had to endure.
“Mom?” Alina followed close behind father.
My mother stopped and turned towards her.
For a moment, nobody spoke. She turned away from me first, as she always did, with my father directly behind her, and the door closed a little while later.
My shoulder sagged in disappointment. I always wondered why she hated me so much for something I had no control over. I let out a deep sigh, my eyes glued to the floor as my eyes became watery.
Alina crossed the room and knelt in front of me, giving me a small, weary smile. “She didn’t mean it,” she said gently, picking up my doll and brushing imaginary dust from its dress. “Tomorrow is a big day. And mother is just… overwhelmed.”
I forced a smile back.
Over the years, I’d learned why Mother looked at me the way she did.
They’d tried to keep it quiet, but pack members talked. That was how I learned that the day I was born, my mother lost the ability to have more children.
Even worse was Father.
Once, he had been the Pack’s Beta and commander of the Rogue Soldiers. The night I was born, he lost his wolf. And after, he lost everything else.
Then there was Alina, my beloved sister, the only one who never looked at me and saw a curse. She was past eighteen and still hadn't shifted.
It wasn’t until recently that her boyfriend scented her out, I heard some of the adults talking about it.
The house had felt different all week. Even the servants spoke in whispers, as if they were afraid of jinxing the ceremony scheduled for the next day.
“I’m fine, Alina,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
She reached out, tousling my red hair with a grin. “You’re too smart for your own good, Rom.”
Sometimes I wonder if you’re actually the eldest and I’m just the little sister.”
I laughed again, throwing my arms around Alina just as the door opened and my mother entered again, her eyes red from crying as she walked over to me.
She crouched in front of me and adjusted my collar, pulling it higher to cover the mark. Her fingers trembled when they brushed my skin. “Cover that up well, Romy. We can't let the outsider see that.”
She cupped my face suddenly and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t say all those mean things, it’s not your fault.”
I smiled back.
The mark burned hot against my skin. I wished I could scrub it away…. But I couldn’t.
I leaned into her hand before I could stop myself. “It’s okay, Mommy,” I whispered.
It was easier to forgive her than to wonder if she meant it. But even as I said it, the mark burned a little hotter. Like it didn’t like being hidden. Like it wanted to be seen.
Alina stepped in, her hand warm on my shoulder as she pulled me up. “Hey, enough of this. Let’s go to my room. Rom, I bet I can find a hiding spot you’ll never guess.”
I looked at her, my eyes lighting up. “Hide and seek? Now?”
“Best way to pass the time,” Alina winked, tugging me toward the stairs.
I nodded, clutching my doll tight to my chest as we ran towards her room.
Once the bedroom door clicked shut behind us, the heavy air of the house vanished.
“Alina?” I whispered, my voice barely a thread in the dark. “Are you scared about tomorrow?”
I felt her shift beside me, her shoulder bumping mine. “The ceremony? A little. It’s a lot of pressure, Rom. Everyone is going to be watching the future Luna, waiting for her wolf to finally show up.”
“She’ll come out,” I said softly, “she has to.”
Alina sighed, a soft, shaky sound. “I hope so. A wolf-less Luna… the Pack wouldn't let me hear the end of it. They already whisper about our family enough.”
She went quiet for a moment, then reached out and took my little hands in hers, squeezing them gently. I squeezed back, the thought of her leaving tightening my chest.
I didn’t ask what she meant, I just knew. It was one of the main reasons mom had been so constantly on edge, terrified of the harsh spotlight it put on our family.
“Can I come live with you?” I blurted out, the words catching in my throat. “After the wedding? I could help you with the pack house. I could be… useful.”
I couldn’t see her face, but I felt the sadness in the way her hand tightened on mine. “Oh, Rom,” she murmured, her voice thick with affection. “The Alpha’s estate… It's not like here. It’s full of warriors and Elders. With that mark… it wouldn’t be safe for you there.”
I looked down at my hands. Even in my imagination, the mark came with me. “But I’ll be alone here,” I whispered, the tears I’d been holding back finally stinging my eyes.
“You won’t be alone,” she promised, leaning her head against mine. “I’ll come visiting. Every week, maybe more. I’ll bring you stories from the pack house and those honey cakes you like from the village. I’m not leaving you behind, little raven. I’m just moving a few miles away.”
I nodded, wiping the tears away, standing up alongside Alina. “So, where am I hiding?” I asked.
Alina turned to me. She smiled, her mouth opening to answer my question, when a heavy, violent crash erupted from downstairs.
The sound was jarring enough to rattle the floorboards, snatching the words right out of Alina's mouth. She straightened instantly, her face snapping toward the door before she looked back at me in total confusion.
"What was that?" I asked, my eyes darting to the door as well.
“No idea," Alina murmured, her posture going rigid. "Wait here, I'll go check." She turned on her heel, walking quickly out of the room.
I climbed onto the bed, pulling my doll into my lap. I played with its frayed hair for a while, waiting for Alina to come back and tell me Mother had just dropped something heavy in the kitchen.
Minutes passed. Or maybe it was longer. Time felt thick, like it had slowed down on purpose.
My eyes grew heavy. The mattress dipped where Alina had been sitting earlier. I lay down in her spot and pulled the doll to my chest, breathing in the faint lavender smell from her sheets.
I must have drifted, because the next thing I knew—The door flew open so hard it struck the wall.
I jolted upright just as Alina rushed in, and she didn’t look like herself at all. Her hair was loose from its braid. Her face was pale, her eyes panicked.
She reached me in three strides and grabbed my shoulders. “Alina, did you—”
Alina was right in front of me, her face white. Her hand covered my mouth so tightly I couldn’t breathe.
And for the first time in my life, my sister looked terrified of something.
Rowan povBy the sixth morning, I was leaning against the bedroom doorframe, watching Romy drag her thumb along the edge of the washstand.A thin line cut through the dust beneath her touch.The bruising on her neck had finally started to fade. The deep purple beneath her jaw was turning yellow around the edges, like an old bruise finally giving up the fight. The marks from my fangs were almost hidden under her hair now. She thought the bond was nothing more than a desperate measure to keep her alive, well that was exactly what I wanted her to believe.If she learned the truth too soon, she’d run. She’d climb over the orchard wall, disappear into the forest, and keep running until the poison finished what it had started.She thought I’d only bitten her to pull the silver from her body and keep her alive. That was the story I’d given her, and for now, it was the one she believed.Romy reached for the tin cup on the shelf, but her hand missed the handle. Her knuckles tapped the wall w
Romy POV By the fourth day, the room felt smaller.The fog outside never lifted. It pressed against the windows from morning until night, turning the glass pale and dull.The corners of the bedroom faded into shadow long before sunset, and every hour that passed made the walls seem closer.I lay on my back, staring at the door.Twelve feet.I’d measured it so many times I no longer needed to look. Twelve feet from the bed to freedom.My thumb rubbed against the edge of the blanket, catching on a loose thread. The wool scratched my skin.Somewhere under the covers his scent lingered–cedar smoke, clean soap, and something warmer that seemed impossible to escape.Because he was always here.If he crossed the room, I knew it. If he shifted in the chair near the hearth, I knew it. If he stood by the window, I felt it before I heard it–the bond made sure of that.A plate landed on the cedar chest at the foot of my bed.“You need to eat something, Romy,” he said, his shoulder against the bed
RomyI woke slowly, keeping my eyes shut and my jaw locked tight.Something heavy lay across my legs, pinning me in place. One of my boots was still on, pressing painfully against my toes beneath the blanket.A warm thumb rested at the base of my neck, rough against my tangled hair whenever it moved.Rowan was behind me.His chest rose and fell against my back with every breath, the heat of his bare skin bleeding through the thin fabric between us. He smelled faintly of smoke and rain and whatever hell the Hawthorne ruins had dragged him through.I stayed perfectly still.I moved my fingers first, testing the mattress. Then I slowly dragged my hand toward my waist until I found the button of my trousers, still jammed through the hole with dried mud packed into the fabric.My jacket was gone. I was in a loose undershirt I didn’t recognize, the seam under one arm already coming apart.I kept my breathing even, then I tested the weight behind me again. He was Still asleep.Of course he wa
Rowan pov I was hallucinating.I had to be.Fear had wrapped itself so tightly around my chest that maybe my mind had finally broken.Because the last thing I remembered was dropping beside her in the mud.The last thing I remembered was holding her.I remembered dropping beside her. Remembered pulling her against me.Remembered begging her to wake up.I didn’t remember letting her go.I didn’t remember the darkness that followedBut when I looked up, Liam Mercer was ankle-deep in the rain with Romy in his arms.Her head rested against his shoulder. Red hair clung to the dark wool of his coat. Her arms were limp, fingers streaked with dirt. Mud dripped from her boots.He went completely silent. Terribly silent.“Liam.” My voice barely sounded human.The boy only adjusted his hold on her, lifting her higher.Rain had washed the dirt from his face. For a second, I saw the same boy I’d seen outside the villa. Young. Stubborn. Looking at her with that same awful certainty.As if he belie
Romy povThe ground under my cheek wasn’t tile.For one stupid second, my mind reached for the villa anyway–for the cold marble floors, the echoing halls, the polished prison I had learned to hate with every breath I took inside it.But this wasn’t marble.This time it was wet, broken, root-tangled earth pressed hard against the side of my face. Mud had found its way into my mouth. Something sharp scraped my lower lip when I tried to breathe. The air smelled of rot, rain, and old iron, thick enough to choke on.Above me, the remains of a stone arch leaned against the storm as if it had been trying not to fall for a hundred years and was finally tired. Mist crawled under it in pale strips, clinging to the mossy stones, sliding over my hands, my boots, my ruined clothes.I tried to lift my head, but the pain exploded in me.It came from my shoulder, then my chest, then everywhere at once. A slow, ugly burn spread under my skin, deep enough that it no longer felt like a wound. It felt l
Romy’s POVAt six o’clock that morning, the guards were changing shifts, and I’d been watching the four-minute gap between rotations at the east gate for two days.I left through it in the rain.The rain had started around five. My boots were already sinking two inches into the ground before I was through the perimeter By the time I cleared the tree line, water had soaked through to my shoulders. My chest ached with each breath, a dull, deep pull that had nothing to do with the cold. I kept walking anyway. If I stopped, I wasn’t going to make it the rest of the way. I had known for thirteen years what day this was. I’d marked it every year–in the Waxmans’ spare room with the door shut, in training facilities and airport lounges, in a hotel bathroom in Oslo with the shower running so no one outside would hear. I had never had a place worth visiting, and I had never been close enough. But now, I was close enough.The Hawthorne property sat forty minutes from the eastern boundary–dow
13 years agoRomy povHer chest was heaving with shallow, erratic breaths. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a rigid, unnatural smile, but her lips were trembling so violently she couldn't hide her terror.She kept her hand pressed tightly over my mouth, her wide eyes silently pleading wit
Romy POVThe second physician arrived Friday afternoon and confirmed everything Dr. Evander had already told us, right down to the tone of cautious optimism that irritated me on instinct.By Saturday I was in a terrible mood about it, and by Sunday I had spent most of the day trying to figure out h
Romy POVThe phone belonged to one of the kitchen girls.Not Petra–Petra I liked, and I wasn't going to burn her. It was the one who left her jacket on the south terrace twice a week and spent her break leaning against the service wall scrolling through something that wasn't estate business. I'd b
Rowan POVI heard Valerie before I stepped onto the south terrace.Not shouting.Valerie rarely raised her voice. Even angry, she preferred quiet over chaos. But lately, the control she wore so carefully had started slipping in small ways. Sharper answers at dinner. Too many late-night visits outsi




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