Freja’s POV
The cool night air wrapped around us as James and I stepped out of the cinema, the lingering tension of the horror film still in my mind. The soft glow of the streetlights created long shadows on the pavement, and the occasional beep of the cars driving by reminded me that we were once again in the real world. But even in the midst of the city life that enveloped us, my thoughts were elsewhere-to a memory that had been etched in my mind for eternity.
A faint smile danced on my lips as I looked at James, my eyes twinkling with amusement. “I recall distinctly when I discovered that you were a werewolf,” I said, my voice laced with playfulness and nostalgia. The memory played through my mind like an old film, all its details clearly drawn. “Later that night, I was planning on going see a scary movie. I was really psyched for it, but then, would you believe it, got caught in traffic. It was awful-carmob jam, people were horn-blasting and all that, my patience was verging on its last breath. And by the time I arrived at the theater, the movie already started, and they refused to let me in. I was fuming with rage, enraged. I remember thinking how the entire day was wasted.” I chuckled softly and shook my head at the recollection. “But now, looking back, I can’t help but thank the goddess that I missed it.”
James grinned at me, his golden eyes glinting under the gentle light of the streetlights. “And why’s that? Because you were so desperate to break my arm?” he teased, laughter creeping into his tone.
I let out a gentle laugh, my shoulders shaking. “Actually, I did break your arm. Don’t you remember?” I asked, tilting my head at him with mock innocence.
James released a theatrical sigh, his face caught between frustration and amusement. “How could I forget? You nearly yanked it out of the socket,” he said, shaking his head as if the memory pained him physically.
I hummed thoughtfully, my gaze rising upwards as I recalled the event. “I still wonder how I managed to do that,” I said aloud. “And yet, no matter how hard I try, I never do manage to catch you off guard.”
James grinned, confidence radiating so strongly from him that it nearly glowed around him. “You shouldn’t be so cross, Freja. No one can take me by surprise,” he answered with a voice charged with a certain kind of certitude that excluded contradiction.
I arched my eyebrow, amusement dancing in my eyes. “And what then if I happen to pull it off someday?” I hurled back at him, leaning to study his features.
His smile grew larger, and for a moment I glimpsed something naughty but un readable in his gold eyes. “It’s impossible,” he stated bluntly, as though reciting an incontrovertible truth.
“But what if?” I pressed, not willing to let the issue die.
James hesitated for a second, turning around to face me fully. The wind ruffled his black hair, and the streetlamp above cast a glow on the sharp planes of his face. His lips curled into a slow, confident smile. “Then I’ll grant you a wish,” he said, his voice smooth and unbreakable. “Anything you desire.”
I blinked in shock at his new boldness. “Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. “Are you serious about that?”
“Absolutely,” he confirmed, his confidence unbroken. “I’m that certain it’ll never happen. You’ll never catch me off guard.”
I studied him for a long moment, my thoughts already whirling with possibilities. A slow, knowing smile spread over my lips as I stepped forward, closing the small space between us. “Oh, James, sweetie,” I whispered, my voice soft but determined. “Nothing is impossible.” I caught a flicker of amusement cross his eyes, but I was not to be swayed. “And when I do win,” I continued, my voice firm, “prepare to spill every little secret of yours, because whether you want it or not, you’re still a mystery to me.”
James let out a low chuckle, the sound rich with amusement. His smirk never wavered as he met my gaze with the same unwavering confidence he always carried. “I’m a mystery to everyone, Freja,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. “One you’ll never crack.”
A cool breeze blew between us, making the leaves on the trees around us rustle, but the warmth in his golden eyes remained. I didn’t know if I’d ever ever truly get James, but one thing was certain-I was glad to attempt it.
—
Ashley’s POV
As soon as we stepped inside the mansion, I felt the weight of it all bearing down on me like a storm cloud on the verge of release. My head was a whirlwind, a chaotic mess that would not quiet no matter how hard I pushed it aside. My heart was still pounding from what had happened at the hospital, and my hands still shook, no matter how tightly I clenched them into fists.
Unbeknownst to me, I followed Steven to his room, my legs pumping involuntarily as my mind remained stuck in a vicious cycle of disbelief. The walls of the mansion started to close in on me, the air becoming too thick, too heavy.
The second we entered his room, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The words just spilled out of me like a burst dam.
“I don’t believe my dad is alive,” I cried, my voice full of raw emotion. My feet grew restless as I paced the room back and forth, my fingers running through my hair in frustration. “Mom said my whole life that he died before I was born. She said he had some illness and I just assumed. I never doubted it, not ever. But why? Why would she have lied to me about something like this? What could she have had for a reason?”
Steven leant against the bed, elbows on knees, his face impassive as he gazed off into the distance. His voice was calm, bordering on detached, when he spoke at last.
“Looks like your mom had her reasons.”
I stopped pacing and confronted him, my eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Motive?” I repeated, my tone sharp. “What motive could possibly be good enough to keep me from meeting my father? From having a childhood with one? From having a family that wasn’t just her and me?”
But Steven just didn’t respond. His mind was preoccupied, trapped in thoughts he refused to share. His silence only served to fuel my anger. I was losing myself, my world crumbling bit by bit, and he was just sitting there like it was any other day.
“Steven!” I bellowed his name sharply, trying to snap him out of wherever he was.
He flinched at the noise, his gold eyes at last focusing in mine. But there was something distant in them, something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“What?” he growled, his voice toneless, as if my frustration was none of his business.
I had my patience finally snap. “You’re not even listening to me!” I accused, my voice rising along with my temper. “Aren’t you supposed to be standing by me? You’re my husband, Steven!”
His mouth curled into a smile, but there was no humor. “We both agreed to put aside the ‘husband’ label, didn’t we?” he reminded me, his tone sharp and unyielding.
I inhaled, trying to keep the anger brewing inside me at bay. “Fine,” I snarled. “Forget it. But there’s something wrong with you, obviously, Steven. I’ve seen you at the hospital. You were completely spaced out. And now you’re doing it again. What is it? What’s going on with you?”
“It’s nothing,” he grumbled, raking a hand through his hair before pushing me away as though my worries were unimportant.
His indifference was the last straw. My fists were balled at my sides, my whole body shaking. “If you don’t want to help me in my family matter, that’s fine,” I told him, my own voice trembling with anger. “But if you do have anything-anything whatsoever-that could possibly enlighten me on what’s going on, then you owe it to me to share that information with me!”
Steven sighed deeply, his jaw tightening as he finally looked at me. Something unreadable in his eyes, something unsure. And then, at last, he spoke.
“Fine,” he growled. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
I stood frozen, breath stuck in my throat as I waited for him to continue. My heart pounded against the insides of my ribs.
“When I took in your mother’s pain, I knew as much as she did on the day she had that accident,” he revealed, his tone hard but laced with something else-something malevolent. “And it wasn’t an accident, Luna. She was attacked.”
My world swayed for a moment, my vision clouding as the words struck me. I had been ready for anything, but not this. Not this.
“Attacked?” I gasped, barely able to get the word out. “By whom?”
Steven’s face darkened, and for the first time that night, I saw something flicker behind his golden eyes. Something deadly.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice heavy with frustration. “I only got glimpses of her memories-snapshots of what happened. But she panicked, running for her life a split second ahead of the car that crushed her. And one thing I do know-she knew her attackers. She called them ‘The Skin and Blisters.'”
A chilling shiver tickled my spine, and I stood stock still with ice water in my veins.
“The Skin and Blisters?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. My head flashed back to the hospital, to my mother’s trembling, weak voice as she warned me. “She said they would come for me too. like they came for her.”
Steven’s jaw firmed. “Whoever they are, their plan was to kill your mother.”
“But she’s still alive,” I exclaimed, my hysteria rising rapidly. My heart thudded in my ears, my respirations weakening. “What if they catch up to her? What if they go back to the hospital to finish the job?”
“Luna, you need to stay calm-”
“I can’t!” I cried out, my mouth parched with fear. Automatically, I spun away from the door, my only thought that I had to get to her. I had to rescue her.
I made one more step before a firm hand encircled my wrist, keeping me in place.
Steven.
His fingers were tight but gentle, his pressure keeping me grounded even as my mind went wild.
“You’re doing too much, Luna,” he said, his tone soothing. “Breathe.”
“Let me go!” I wept, my face running with tears. “I have to save her!”
“Luna!” His harsh voice pierced the air, commanding and strong, startling me back into reality. My body locked, my breath stopping.
His grip became firmer, his golden eyes locked on mine with a focus that made my heart falter. “Get yourself together and cut the vulnerability,” he instructed me.
The words cut deep, cutting through my fear like a knife. Vulnerable. A word I despised, a weakness I had never been willing to own. But despite the way his words hurt, they did something-I could feel myself reasserting control, the whirlwind in my mind slowing enough for me to breathe.
And then, in an instant, my phone rang.
My hands shook as I reached for it, barely managing to hold it steady.
Steven’s voice eased a step. “What is it?” he asked, sensing my anxiety.
The moment I read the caller ID, my grip on the phone was rattled. It slipped from my fingers, and with a soft clunk, fell on the floor.
A gagging fear rose up my spine as I lifted my gaze to Steven. My mouth opened, but the words were gagging me.
“She’s gone,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “My mom… she’s gone.”
Steven didn’t wait. He stepped across the space between us, wrapping his arms around me as my body slumped against his. I burrowed into him, sobbing wildly on his chest. He didn’t say a word, didn’t try to comfort me with comforting lies. He just held me-stiff, unmoving, immobile-as my entire world reduced to nothing.