Chapter 204

Lila

The morning began like any other over the past two years.

A pale sun crawled through the clouds, spilling faint light across the counter as I ground feverfew into a fine powder. The scent filled the apothecary, warm and sharp against the cold seeping through the shutters.

Kael was sorting jars on the back shelf, humming tunelessly, and the kids were building towers of wooden blocks by the fire.

It should have felt ordinary. Safe. Instead, the air hummed with anticipation.

At first, I thought it was the storm outside. The wind dragging its teeth across the roof, but then the sound sank inward, vibrating through my chest instead of my ears. The pestle slipped in my grip.

Do you feel that? Ruby’s voice slid through my mind, clear and startled.

I froze.

The hum grew stronger. It wasn’t a sound, or even sensation, but something else entirely. It was warmth, a pull, a... recognition. It shot down my spine like lightning searching for the ground.

Then it hit me full-force.

A surge of energy flared in my chest, sudden and wild. The taste of earth and leather, the echo of a heartbeat that wasn’t mine. The world around me blurred. My vision tunneled to light and gold and something so painfully familiar I couldn’t breathe.

Damon.

The pestle dropped from my hand and shattered the glass bowl. Powder burst across the counter like flour, scattering in a fine, golden haze.

“Lila?” Kael was already beside me. His hand steadied my elbow. “Hey, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer. My heart was beating too fast, matching the rhythm of another’s distant thumping, something I hadn’t felt in years. The bond. The one Ruby buried deep.

It shouldn’t be possible.

The warmth inside me flickered again, soft and tentative, and then it was gone again. Like a hand brushing against my own before vanishing back into darkness.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “I just… lost my balance.”

Kael frowned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I forced a smile and bent to sweep the broken glass. “Maybe I have. Go on, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

He hesitated, eyes lingering on me for a moment too long before nodding. “Alright. But sit for a bit, alright? You’ve been pushing too hard lately.”

I mumbled something that sounded like agreement. My hands were still shaking as I cleaned the counter.

When he turned away, I pressed a palm against my shoulder. The skin there still burned faintly, right over the mark that once tied me to him. It had been silent for so long I’d begun to believe it truly was gone.

But Ruby was trembling inside me, her presence alive and sharp. “He’s close,” she whispered, voice low with certainty.

“No,” I said under my breath. “He can’t be.”

“You felt it too. That was our mate.”

I shook my head. “It’s just memory. A dream leaking through.”

“Dreams don’t make the bond stir.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the faint shimmer of silver light still clinging to my fingertips. Every part of me wanted to deny it, to believe this was only my mind betraying me. But the warmth that had surged through me had been too specific. I knew that feeling the way I knew my own heartbeat.

The kids laughed from the other room, the sound slicing through my panic. Auren’s voice carried over the crackle of the hearth. “Mama, look! Kael says we can build a fort!”

“Go ahead, love,” I called back, keeping my tone steady. “Use the old blankets, not the new ones.”

Kael laughed softly, oblivious. “You heard her, little wolf. The old ones only.”

Their voices grounded me, tethered me back to the present. I forced my breathing to slow. The energy had faded now, leaving only a hollow ache. But beneath that ache was a faint, constant thrum.

The bond, straining.

Damon was alive. Worse, he was nearby.

I rubbed my palms against my apron until the glow faded completely, until I could pretend none of it had happened. Ruby’s voice pressed softly at the edge of my thoughts, full of worry. “We can’t hide forever.”

“Watch me,” I whispered.

I turned back to my work, forcing my hands to move, my breathing to even out. Outside, snow swirled fiercely, covering the world deeper in white.

If Damon was close, he wouldn’t fine me in this storm anyway.

Hours later, the village slept under a soft blanket of snow, the air had stilled with the dwindling storm. Kael had gone home hours ago, and the kids were curled against each other, safe and dreaming.

I couldn’t sleep. The moment I closed my eyes, I felt it again; the echo of warmth through the bond, that brief brush of power that didn’t belong to me. It pulsed faintly under my ribs like a bruise that wouldn’t fade.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, candles burning low around me. The herbs I’d gathered earlier – sage, salt, and ironleaf – were spread across the table beside me, their scent sharp and bitter. The markings Ruby and I had placed glowed faintly in the dim light, a soft web of silver symbols across the wood.

The barrier between us and being found had to hold.

“Help me strengthen it,” I whispered.

Ruby’s presence stirred, uncertain. “You already know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t take the risk,” I said, grinding salt and ash together until my hands shook. “If he’s close enough for me to feel him, then he’s close enough to find us.”

“He’s looking for us.”

“I know.” The word came out choked. “That’s what terrifies me.”

The air shimmered faintly as I began tracing the wards onto the floor. Healing and protection were sisters in their magic. It had taken only a month for me to figure out how to ward our new home.

Each symbol pulsed in time with my heartbeat. The magic hummed low and steady, silver threads weaving through the air and settling into the cottage. Sweat beaded on my neck despite the cold.

Ruby’s voice was soft but steady. “You can’t keep pretending he’s the enemy.”

“I’m not.” I pressed my palm against the sigil, feeling it burn faintly against my skin. “But if he finds us, everything we built falls apart. The world believes the captive Luna burned in that fire and the Beta fled in exile. Let them keep believing it.”

“We’ve hidden long enough.”

“I have two children,” I snapped, my voice cracking in the quiet. The candle flames flickered as if my anger had stirred the air itself. “If the world finds out who they are, who I am…if Damon does…we won’t know peace anymore. It’ll be a cage all over again.”

Ruby didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was gentler, almost sad. “He wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of what he’d do to me,” I whispered. “I’m afraid he’ll take my children.”

The bond trembled faintly again, barely there, a ghost of a heartbeat pressing against mine. I gritted my teeth and poured more salt along the base of the door, muttering the binding words until the connection dulled to a faint hum.

The light from the wards flared once, then dimmed. The ache inside me quieted, replaced by exhaustion I hadn’t felt in months.

I leaned back on my heels, breathing hard. The candles were nearly gone, wax dripping down onto the floorboards. My hands were shaking, fingertips glowing faintly silver where the magic had flowed from them.

Ruby’s presence lingered close, warm but wary. “It won’t last forever.”

“It doesn’t have to,” I murmured, glancing toward the room where the kids slept, tangled together under their blanket. “It just has to last until I can find a more permanent solution.”

Outside, the wind rose. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of Damon, of the way his scent and heartbeat used to mean home.

When I opened my eyes again the wards shimmered faintly around the room like trapped moonlight. For now, we were invisible. Hidden. Safe.

I blew out the candles one by one until only the fire remained, its glow soft across the children’s faces. My voice trembled as I whispered to Damon the dark, “Leave us in peace.”

The flames guttered once as if answering and then went out completely.