Rian's POV
"I missed you," I breathed. I didn't even realize tears had filled my eyes.
"I never left," the voice replied gently, deep and ancient, echoing through my bones.
My heart clenched. For years, I thought I was broken. Less. An omega who couldn't even feel her own wolf, not since the first time someone tried to tame me. Not since the fear began.
Finally, I stood, holding the book to my chest like a shield. I turned and padded quietly back toward my room. The halls were dark now, the palace asleep. I slipped inside and found Mira already curled up on the bed, one leg flung out like she owned the place. A half-eaten cookie rested on her stomach, and I nearly laughed through my still-wet tears.
Carefully, I set the book on the little table by the window and climbed into bed beside her. I didn't want to wake her. I just needed a moment. Maybe two.
But sleep didn't come.
Instead, as the moonlight spilled across the stone floor, something shifted.
At first, I thought I was dreaming. The walls of the room flickered, blurred, and then disappeared altogether. I was standing in the middle of a forest I didn't recognize. The trees were tall, ancient. Their bark shimmered faintly, as if dusted in silver. The wind whispered in a language I didn't understand, and I felt… watched.
Not by something dangerous.
But by something waiting.
I turned, and in the clearing behind me stood a woman cloaked in midnight-blue robes. Her face was hidden beneath a hood, but her hand reached out—long fingers, pale skin, a glint of silver on her wrist.
When I didn't move, she spoke. "You are not lost. Only unawakened."
Her voice was the same one I heard in the library. My wolf. My other self.
But now she stood apart from me, watching. Guiding.
I wanted to ask her what this place was. What it meant. Why now?
But all I managed was a breathless, "What am I?"
She tilted her head, almost sadly. "You will remember. In time. But for now, listen."
The wind picked up again, swirling leaves and ash around us. The trees pulsed with magic, and the ground beneath my feet trembled. In the distance, a howling cry echoed through the forest—wounded, wild.
"You are the bloodline they forgot," she said. "The truth they buried."
"Why me?" I whispered.
Her voice turned sharp, almost a growl. "Because you lived."
Then everything vanished.
I gasped and sat upright in bed, heart pounding. My skin was cold with sweat, my fingers gripping the blanket so tightly my knuckles ached. The room was still. Mira snored softly beside me, oblivious to the storm inside my chest.
My eyes darted to the book.
Still there. Silent. Waiting.
I didn't know what the vision meant, or who that woman was, but something inside me had cracked open—and I couldn't pretend anymore.
I needed answers.
And unfortunately, the only person who might know where to start… was the very man I didn't want to see.
I pulled on my robe, stuffed the book into the folds, and stepped into the hallway barefoot. The stone floor was cold, but I barely noticed it as I made my way to the wing of the palace where he stayed.
The guards didn't stop me this time. They bowed, stepping aside like they'd been expecting me. I hated how that felt—like everyone knew something I didn't.
His chamber door was slightly ajar. I knocked anyway.
"Come in," his voice called, quiet and unreadable.
I pushed the door open.
He stood by the window, his dark hair tousled like he hadn't slept. The moonlight gilded his shoulders, making him look more myth than man.
But I wasn't here to admire him.
"I need to talk to you," I said stiffly.
His eyes flicked to me, surprise flickering across his face. "Of course," he said. "Please—come in."
I stepped inside but didn't sit.
"I had a vision," I blurted, clutching the book to my chest.
His expression changed instantly. "A vision?"
I nodded. "I saw her. My wolf. I heard her. She spoke to me. She showed me a forest, and a woman in a cloak, and—" I stopped myself, breath catching. "She said I'm part of a forgotten bloodline."
He moved toward me slowly, cautiously. "Rian…"
"No," I said quickly, taking a step back. "Don't. Don't touch me. Just listen."
His jaw clenched, but he nodded.
"I'm not here because of us," I continued. "I came because something is changing in me, and I don't know what it is. This book—it called to me. And now… she's back. My wolf."
He stared at the book in my arms, something unreadable flashing through his gaze.
"You felt her again," he said, voice hushed. "After all this time…"
I nodded.
"She said I'm not nothing," I whispered, more to myself than him.
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, quietly, "You never were."
I looked away, throat tight.
He looked away too, as if the words cost him something.
"I don't know what it means," I admitted, swallowing around the ache in my throat. "But it didn't feel like a dream. It felt like… a message. A warning. Or both."
He ran a hand through his hair, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "I've seen magic like that before," he said finally. "In old bloodlines. Lost ones. Sometimes it begins with visions—of the past, the future, the self. Whatever that book is, it may have been the trigger."
"So you don't know." I tried to keep the disappointment from creeping into my voice.
"No," he said quietly. "Not yet. But if it happens again, tell me."
I blinked. "Why?"
His gaze found mine again. Steady. "Because if something is awakening in you, I need to protect you. Not just for who you are, but for what it might mean."
I didn't answer. I didn't know how to believe in that kind of care from him—not anymore.
He hesitated, then glanced toward the other side of the room where the fire still crackled low in the hearth. "Do you want to stay?" he asked, like it wasn't the most loaded question in the world.
I stared at him, stunned. "Here?"
He nodded. "You don't have to. I just thought… if the vision shook you, you might not want to be alone."
Alone. The word settled like ice in my spine.
I should've said no. Should've turned and walked away like I had every reason to. But my fingers tightened around the book, and my chest still felt hollow from the dream. From the way her voice lingered, wild and aching.
I looked at him. "Just to sleep," I said.
A slow exhale left his chest, like something inside him had been holding its breath too. "Of course."
He didn't touch me. Didn't move closer. Just stepped aside, giving me room to pass, to decide.
I walked past him without a word and set the book gently on a side table, then slipped onto the far edge of the bed. The sheets were cool, and the scent of him—smoke, pine, and something darker—wrapped around me almost instantly.
He crossed to the hearth, throwing another log on the flames before sitting in the chair across from me. Watching. Guarding.
It was silent for a long while. Only the fire crackled.
Eventually, I lay back and closed my eyes, but sleep still didn't come. Not fully. Not yet.
But for the first time in a long time… I wasn't afraid.