Chapter 457

Nina

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of spices and the sound of sizzling as my mother and I cooked dinner together. Tyler and Enzo had retired to the other room to play a video game on the TV, and every so often the sounds of their excited voices floated through. Normally, Enzo would have cooked with me, but it was nice to have some alone time with my mom after everything that had happened.

And I think she needed it, too.

At one point, as we chopped vegetables and stirred pots of aromatic tomato sauce, Tyler and Enzo let out a loud cheer in the other room.

“I told you!” Tyler exclaimed, drowning out Enzo’s laughter. “You owe me a dollar!”

“Alright, alright,” Enzo replied. “I take back what I said. You’re actually pretty good at this game.”

My mother and I exchanged glances, rolling our eyes playfully. “You know, Nina,” she said as she chopped a carrot in half, “when I was back in college, my friends and I used to spend almost every evening together after classes.”

As my mother spoke, her voice was filled with nostalgia. I shot her a curious glance as I stirred the pasta as it boiled in the pot.

“You did?” I asked. “You mean the Peacekeepers?

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yes,” she said. “We weren’t always just watching over Mountainview and trying to bridge the gap between humans and werewolves, you know. We were friends, too. We’d go out dancing, hike in the nearby woods, throw parties…”

Her eyes seemed to look past the kitchen, lost in memories. I listened, captivated by this glimpse into her youth, a time when the lines between duty and friendship were blurred.

My mom rarely ever talked about her past; growing up, she had always said that there was no use in reminiscing, which was why I had had to hear about the Peacekeepers through Tiffany. But lately, something had changed in her—and I was bent on getting every little story out of her that I could.

“Tell me more,” I said, turning to face her. “Did you ever have any crazy parties?”

She scoffed. “Of course we did,” she said with a laugh. “I remember there was this one party, back when Tiffany and I shared an apartment…”

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone then. “Richard jumped out of the second-story window, scared the hell out of the neighbors. They thought he’d gotten hurt, but of course he landed on his feet, what with his… abilities and all. You should’ve seen the way he ran from the cops!”

My eyes widened in surprise, not at the story involving Richard—which was hilarious in its own right—but rather at the mention of Tiffany. “Wait, back up,” I said. “You were roommates with Tiffany? Since when?”

My mother’s smile faded then, replaced by a look of deep regret. “Yes, we did,” she said softly.

“I didn’t know you were that close.”

She nodded. “Tiffany and I were the closest of friends, actually,” she replied. “We loved each other like sisters.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I still regret every day that I let that friendship fall apart. And now, it’s too late.”

A wave of sadness washed over me, and without thinking, I reached out to squeeze her hand. In that moment, I felt a real connection to my mother, a bridge spanning across time and misunderstandings, linking our lives in ways I hadn’t realized before. Even though we lacked a true bloodline to one another, our lives were life mirror images.

And there was one thing in particular we had in common: a love for a sweet woman who didn’t deserve what she got in the end.

…

Over the next few days, with my mother and Tyler staying, the house was filled with laughter and the constant buzz of conversation.

But amidst the joy, I felt a need for solitude, a longing for a quiet moment all to myself. The mention of Tiffany kept swirling around in my mind, and I longed to talk to her.

One crisp morning, I decided to take a walk, seeking the solace of the outdoors. Enzo was off with the rest of the pack doing some patrols, and my mother and Tyler were still fast asleep. I slipped out of the house before they awoke, leaving a note that I would be back soon as a last thought.

I took the car to town, where I stopped in the local cafe for some tea—the doctor had banned coffee for the remainder of the pregnancy, which was a bit depressing.

A little while later, I found myself wandering towards the campus. The air was warm, but not too warm, the perfect early summer morning. My feet carried me all of their own accord, though, and it wasn’t long before I realized exactly where I was headed.

I was headed to the place where Tiffany’s memorial was placed.

We had never found her body. Whatever the Crescents had done with it, I didn’t want to imagine it. So, after weeks of searching the area to no avail, we had decided to place a memorial in the woods near where she had died. The dean had held a gathering there for the beloved school doctor, and now there was a little bench next to the spot, a place where people could come to reflect.

I took in a shaky breath as I approached. Admittedly, I didn’t come here often; it wasn’t easy to bring myself to visit this place. But my wolf stirred as I walked up to the bench, and I knew that she had pulled me here without even realizing it.

Maybe I needed to talk to Tiffany. Maybe she was lonely.

I sat there in silence for a while, just enjoying the sounds of nature as I sipped my tea. But the longer I sat there, the more the air seemed to shift; it felt as though I wasn’t alone anymore. Not as if I was being watched, but rather… as if I had a little company.

If I closed my eyes, I could picture her sitting right beside me, listening intently. And it was as I sat there, with my eyes closed, that the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Tiffany, I miss you so much,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wish you were here, to see all that’s happening.”

I waited for an answer, but of course there was none. There would never be an answer. I couldn’t figure out if that was comforting or if it just made things worse.

When I finally opened my eyes and wiped my misty tears away, I looked up and noticed a little orange bird perched on a nearby branch. It was just an ordinary bird, yet something about it felt different.

It didn’t fly away as I stared at it, its eyes watching me with an intensity that seemed…

Unnatural.

A suspicion crept into my mind, that perhaps this was why I didn’t feel alone; this was my father’s spy. It had to be—I could sense it.

Feeling anger fuel my movements, I set my tea down with a slam and jumped to my feet. I stormed over to the low branch where it sat, reaching out for it. It fluttered and squawked angrily, but I was too quick.

“Got you, you little shit,” I hissed through bared teeth.

But then, as my hand closed around the bird, something happened; there was a sudden flurry of movement, a whirl of feathers and then… it shifted.

Before my eyes, the bird transformed, its form morphing and expanding until a young woman stood in front of me.