Chapter 210

Olivia

The tension in the air had been palpable for far too long.

Between the mysteries surrounding us, our concern for the twins, and the weight of the unknown, it felt as though a heavy cloud loomed over our heads. So, when Nathan suggested an unexpected trip to his family’s old cabin, I couldn’t resist the urge to escape, if only for a short while.

“Remember how we used to poke the honeycombs?” Nathan asked as we turned onto a gravel path, the dense woods on either side feeling both inviting and intimidating.

I smiled. “Of course. We used to get our fingers all sticky, and then lick the honey off. It was divine… and messy.”

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “I think it’s about time we let Aurora and Elliot experience a little bit of our paradise.”

“I’m surprised you kept the property, if I’m being honest,” I said, taking note of the way that the air seemed to drop in temperature as we made our way into the forest. “After everything, I mean.”

Nathan was silent for a moment. “I know,” he finally said, gently guiding the car around a curve in the long, bumpy driveway. “I almost did sell it, too. I came really close; the people who bought the mansion were going to buy this property as well. But when it came down to signing the papers, I couldn’t do it. I pulled out.”

I nodded slowly, not wanting to interject too much. Nathan’s parents’ mansion hadn’t been a place with many fond memories. But the cabin… too many summers were spent here, playing in the woods during a time of innocence, for him to let go.

“Well, I’m glad you kept it,” I said softly. “I love it here.”

Nathan smiled, reaching across the center console to squeeze my hand as the cabin came into view. “Let’s make some new memories. For Aurora and Elliot.”

The cabin itself was a sight to behold. Built entirely of timber, its wood was now a soft shade of gray, aged with time and weather. Vines and moss adorned its structure, giving it an enchanting, whimsical look. As we approached, the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow on the clearing where the cabin stood.

“Here we are,” Nathan said, pulling the car to a gentle stop.

I took a moment, letting the calm surroundings wash over me. Elliot and Aurora, bundled snugly in their car seats, stared around inquisitively, their wide eyes absorbing the new scenery. Nathan carefully lifted Aurora, her tiny body nestled against his chest, while I carried Elliot.

The cool, crisp air, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth, was refreshing. The cabin’s interior was cozy. Vintage photographs adorned the wooden walls, remnants of Nathan’s ancestors and memories of his childhood.

“See that?” Nathan pointed to a photo of us—me, Nathan, and Alvin—as young children playing by a beehive. “That was me and your mom. The bees here have always been... special.”

Aurora cooed happily in response and blew a spit bubble on her lips. However, I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Special how?” I asked. “I only ever remember getting stung for stealing their honey.”

He grinned mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

After settling the twins in the living room, with soft blankets and plush toys, we took a stroll around the property. As we wandered hand in hand, Nathan and I recounted tales of our adventures in these woods.

“Look!” I said, pointing. “It’s the infamous oak tree.”

“Ah, yes, the formidable oak,” Nathan said with a chuckle. “Poor Alvin. His arm looked like it had been sucked through a wood chipper after he fell.”

I cringed, remembering the sight of blood and the milky white bone sticking out of Alvin’s forearm. And the way he screamed. Oh, the way he screamed. It was awful.

“Let’s… stay away from there,” I said, swallowing.

Nathan nodded. “Yes, let’s.”

We continued our walk. A little while later, invigorated by the fresh air and the sound of the birds, we returned to the cabin to retrieve the twins from their nap. After dinner, we were back outside again.

The sun was descending, casting elongated shadows across our path when we reached the edge of a lush meadow. The hum of bees grew more pronounced as we approached a series of honeycombs.

Seeing the honeycombs again filled me with childlike nostalgia. But at the same time, I felt a frisson of anxiety. “Nathan, is it wise to be so close to the hive, especially with the babies?”

He gave me a sly smile. “Trust me.”

Before I could protest, he gently guided Aurora’s tiny hand toward the honeycomb. I held my breath, fearing a swarm of agitated bees, but instead, they seemed to circle her calmly, their buzzing almost melodic.

Aurora, fascinated, giggled as her fingers dipped into the sticky honey. She pulled back, tasting the golden sweetness, a look of pure delight lighting up her face.

“How did you know?” I asked, still in disbelief.

Nathan shrugged, looking equally mesmerized. “There’s something about these bees. Even when we were kids, they were unusually calm around us. But with Aurora... it’s different.”

“How did you know, though?” I asked, cocking my head. “That they wouldn’t sting her, I mean.”

Nathan shook his head. “I didn’t know for sure. But lately, I’ve been noticing things when I take her out. Small things. Curious rabbits running right up to her. Cats sniffing her, cocking their heads as though listening when she looks at them. I think she’s… special.”

Elliot fidgeted in my arms, perhaps feeling left out. But I was hesitant. “One experiment a day, I think,” I murmured.

Nathan laughed. “Fair enough.”

We continued our walk, the world bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Birds chirped in the distance, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. The peace was almost tangible, and for a moment, our worries seemed distant and insignificant.

“We should come here more often,” I sighed, leaning into Nathan. “It’s like stepping into a different world.”

He kissed the top of my head. “We will, once the issues with Ryan and the Elders are over. I promise.”

As we headed back, the forest’s sounds seemed more pronounced—the chirping of crickets, the soft hoot of an owl, the whispering of the wind through the trees. And then, as if nature itself was putting on a show for us, a bluebird appeared.

Delicate and vibrant, it fluttered around us before settling gently on Aurora’s leg. She blinked in surprise, her tiny hands reaching up to touch the creature, but it remained undeterred.

I stared, my heart racing. Bluebirds were symbolic in our world, often representing the emergence of new powers. Could this be a sign of Aurora’s first ability as a werewolf?

Nathan seemed to have the same thought. “Olivia, do you think...?”

I nodded slowly, still watching the butterfly. “It could be. The bees, now this. Maybe she has an affinity with nature, a way to communicate or resonate with it.”

He looked deep into my eyes. “Our little girl might just have her first werewolf power.”

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching the butterfly as it finally took flight, leaving a lingering sense of wonder in its wake. The weight of the past weeks seemed to lift slightly, replaced by hope and curiosity for what the future held for our family.

And as the evening stars began to twinkle overhead, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. We would face whatever came our way, together.