Chapter 5 Shadows

Novalyn's POV

The drums beat softly in the distance. The sound of them rolled across the clearing like a heartbeat, steady and alive. Laughter and voices filled the air, blending with the scent of pine, earth, and burning sage. The moon was full that night, hanging heavy and silver over the pack grounds, casting its light across every face turned toward me.

I stood in the center, dressed in white. The fabric shimmered faintly each time I moved. My hands trembled, though I kept them clasped tight together in front of me. Around me stood everyone I had ever known — my family, my pack, my Alpha. They were smiling, eyes glowing with pride and joy. I had waited for this day my whole life.

The day I would be marked.

My mate stood beside me. His hand brushed mine gently, a silent promise that everything was all right. His smile was soft, warm enough to calm the storm that had been raging inside me all week. When his thumb grazed my knuckles, the crowd faded. There was only him. His scent — smoky and sweet, like burnt cedar. His eyes — bright gold under the moonlight.

When he leaned forward, his lips brushed my neck first, warm and gentle. Then came the bite. Sharp. Deep. Pain and pleasure tangled until I couldn’t tell them apart. My knees went weak. The bond snapped into place inside me, glowing, spreading through every part of me like fire and light. I gasped, my breath catching. The sound of the pack’s cheers rose around us, voices lifted in celebration.

It was supposed to be perfect. Sacred. Forever.

Then everything changed.

The warmth in the air vanished. The drums slowed until they stopped. The cheers turned into whispers, harsh and sharp, cutting into the silence. I blinked, trying to steady myself, but the world tilted sideways. My mate’s hand slipped from mine. The light dimmed. The air grew cold.

And when I looked up again, the faces surrounding me had twisted.

Their eyes were no longer filled with joy. They looked at me like I was something filthy. Dangerous. A low murmur spread through the crowd, building into something louder, uglier.

“Traitor.”

“Danger to the pack.”

“Volatile.”

“Liability.”

The words hit me like stones. I stumbled backward, confused. My chest tightened as I tried to speak, but my voice came out in broken gasps. “No,” I whispered. “No, please. What are you saying?”

The Alpha stepped forward. His expression was carved in stone, his voice deep and final. “You have betrayed your pack, Novalyn. You are no longer one of us.”

I shook my head. “No! I haven’t done anything. Please, I didn’t—”

My knees hit the ground. The dirt was cold beneath me. I reached out to my mate, desperate for him to say something, to stop them. He stood a few feet away, staring. His eyes — the same golden eyes that had looked at me with warmth moments ago — were now empty.

And then, slowly, he pulled someone closer to his side.

My sister.

Her hand rested on his arm as if it belonged there. Her gaze was full of pity, not love. Pity for me.

My heart cracked. “No,” I said again, shaking my head weakly. “Don’t. Please don’t do this.”

Something cold brushed against my leg. I looked down. The ground was moving. Vines were curling around my ankles, climbing upward, wrapping tight around my wrists. They were alive, breathing, pulsing with strange energy. I screamed, trying to pull away, but the earth itself was swallowing me. The pack watched in silence as the vines dragged me down, deeper and deeper.

“Please!” I shouted, reaching for him, for anyone. “Help me!”

But no one moved.

The world went black.

⸻

I woke with a sharp cry, my heart hammering against my ribs. My back hit the wooden door hard. The gun was still in my hand, my finger trembling near the trigger. Sweat soaked the back of my neck. My breath came fast, uneven. The sound of my own heartbeat filled my ears.

The farmhouse was quiet. Too quiet. Only the old clock downstairs ticked faintly, marking each second like a distant reminder that time hadn’t stopped, even though I wished it had.

I forced myself to move, checking the locks again. Every bolt was still in place. Still safe. My hand shook as I turned the handle just to be sure. Then I pushed away from the door and climbed the stairs. Each step creaked beneath my feet, the wood sighing softly under my weight.

In my room, I dropped the gun on the table and sat on the edge of the bed. My head throbbed — a dull, sharp ache blooming behind my eyes. The same kind of pain that always came after the dreams. They never left quietly. They always made sure I remembered.

This always happens. Every night. Different scenes, same ending. Betrayal. Shame. Loss.

I reached for the drawer beside my bed and pulled out the small metal container. Inside was the herbal mix I made myself — crushed roots, powdered bark, dried petals. It smelled sharp and earthy. I opened it slowly, trying to ignore the pulsing pain behind my eyes. Beside the lamp sat a glass bottle filled with water. I poured in a small spoonful of the powder, shook it until the water turned cloudy, and drank it all in one go.

The taste was bitter, almost metallic, but familiar. It calmed my shaking hands, slowed my breathing. The world steadied again.

When I lay back against the bed, my feet felt cold. That’s when I saw it. White streaks began to glow faintly across my skin, starting from my toes, curling upward in thin, branching lines. They pulsed like veins of light, soft and alive, then faded slowly until they disappeared again. The sight always left a hollow ache in my chest.

I pressed my palms over my eyes and whispered to myself, “They’re not here. It’s just a dream.”

But my voice trembled. Even I didn’t believe it.

⸻

The room felt too small, so I stood up and walked into the bathroom. The mirror caught my reflection. My white hair stuck to my face, and the shadows under my eyes made me look like someone else. Someone haunted. I turned on the shower and stepped under the water.

The first rush of warmth against my skin was a relief. I let it fall over me, washing away the salt and fear clinging to my body. I tried to let my mind empty out, but his face appeared anyway.

That man.

Those eyes.

The way his voice had sounded when he said, “You’re mine.”

My chest tightened, and I pressed my forehead against the wall, letting the water stream down my back. What kind of cruel joke was this? After everything the Moon Goddess had taken from me, after everything I had lost, why would she send another mate? There couldn’t be two. The bond wasn’t supposed to happen twice.

But I had felt it. That pull. That spark in my veins. The same one I’d sworn I would never feel again.

The same one that had ruined my life.

I shook my head hard and turned off the water. No. I wouldn’t think about it. Not now. Not ever. The past was dead. I buried it myself.

⸻

I changed into my soft pajamas, the fabric cool against my skin. The farmhouse was quiet again, the air smelling faintly of lavender and rain. The gun on my bedside table caught the moonlight. I picked it up, checked the chamber, and set it back down where I could reach it easily.

That wolf would come back. I could feel it in my bones. They always did. They came with promises, with fate, with the illusion of forever. But I wasn’t some helpless girl waiting to be claimed anymore. I wasn’t anyone’s to take.

If the Moon Goddess wouldn’t protect me, I’d protect myself.

I glanced at the window. The moon hung low, shining straight into my room, bathing everything in cold silver light. It looked almost smug.

“Real funny,” I muttered, lifting my middle finger toward it. “Go laugh somewhere else.”

Then I turned over, pulling the blanket higher. The light still touched my face, too bright, too knowing, but I kept my eyes shut.

Sleep came slow. And when it did, the last thing I smelled was smoke and pine.

Like he had never really left.