Chapter 5 Chapter 5

MIRA

The door was still locked. I could hear the latch settle into place, that soft metallic sigh that meant I wasn’t going anywhere. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. The air between us had changed; it wasn’t just their scent anymore. It was the heat of three heartbeats crowding mine, steady and unbothered while my own hammered like a trapped thing.

Zane took one careful step toward me. “You don’t have to be scared,” he said, the same words he’d used before, gentle and low, the kind of voice that pretended it could hold you together if you’d just let it.

But all I heard was run.

I edged backward until the headboard pressed into my spine. The mattress dipped under my weight, and the wooden frame creaked like it might give me away. “Don’t,” I said, my voice barely more than a breath. “Just stay there.”

Luca laughed softly, the sound curling through the room. “She looks like she’s gonna bolt again. You’d think we were planning to eat her alive.”

Zane’s arm shot out to silence him, but the damage was already done. That teasing tone, that lazy smile—it was exactly the same as the one in the forest. For a heartbeat the candlelight blurred into moonlight, and the polished floor turned to wet earth beneath my feet. I could smell the rain, the iron tang of blood. Their laughter echoed in my skull until I didn’t know where I was anymore.

“Stop it.” My voice cracked. I pressed my hands to my temples as if I could squeeze the noise out. “Stop talking like that.”

Luca’s grin faltered. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong—?” The question splintered something inside me. I laughed, sharp and ugly. “You’re asking me that?”

Zane frowned, his calm starting to fray. “Mira, no one’s trying to hurt you.”

The sentence slammed into me like a fist. My body remembered it before my mind did: the rain, the mud, the sting in my side, someone whispering those exact words while the world went dark. I gasped and stumbled sideways, knocking the bedside lamp to the floor. The crash made them all jump.

“Don’t come near me!” The shout ripped out before I could stop it.

Zane’s eyes widened. “Okay, okay, just breathe, all right? You’re safe.”

Safe. The word made my stomach twist. Safe was the lie they’d used to keep me still.

I shook my head so hard my hair slapped my face. “You don’t get to say that to me.”

Luca stepped forward, hands raised like I was a cornered animal. “We just want to talk. You’re our mate, remember? We should—”

“Don’t call me that!” My back hit the wall. My nails dug into the plaster behind me. “I’m not your anything!”

Something flashed behind Zane’s eyes—confusion, maybe anger—but before he could speak, Jax’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Enough.”

He hadn’t moved from the door, but the sound of that single word stopped everything. Zane turned, startled. Luca’s mouth snapped shut. The air itself seemed to still.

Jax’s jaw tightened. “Can’t you see she’s terrified? Leave her the hell alone.”

The silence after that was deafening. Even the wind outside seemed to hold its breath. Zane opened his mouth, then closed it again. Luca looked from me to him, shoulders stiff.

“We’re trying to help,” Zane said finally, quieter now.

“Then stop.” Jax’s voice was low, but it carried a warning that made the other two freeze. His gaze flicked toward me, quick enough that I might have imagined it. “You’re not helping. Get out.”

For a second no one moved. Then Luca muttered something under his breath and brushed past him, the scent of cologne and frustration following him out. Zane hesitated a heartbeat longer, eyes staying on me with something almost gentle, almost guilty. Then he left too.

The door clicked shut behind them, and Jax and I were alone.

He didn’t move closer; he just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. The quiet pressed in until I could hear the tick of the clock on the mantel. My breath came in uneven bursts.

“Why are you still here?” I asked. My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to.

He looked up. His eyes weren’t cold, exactly, but they were unreadable. “They’ll keep pushing if I leave right now.”

I swallowed. “So you’re guarding me?”

He gave a short shrug. “Something like that.”

“I don’t need a guard.”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes dropping again. “I can see that.”

The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, more a ghost of one—but there was no mockery in it. Just tiredness. For a moment I wondered if he was as exhausted as I was. Then he reached for the doorknob.

“I’ll tell them to give you space,” he said. “Try to sleep.”

I wanted to thank him, but the words wouldn’t come. My throat felt raw. He opened the door, paused like he wanted to say something else, then left without another word.

———

The moment he was gone, my knees gave out. I slid down the wall and pulled my arms around myself. The air still smelled like them, heavy and familiar, and it made my stomach twist. I pressed my forehead against my knees and tried to breathe through the tremors.

They didn’t remember. That was the cruelest part. To them, I was a stranger. Some miracle the Moon had chosen for them. But to me—they were the end of everything.

I could still feel the phantom sting of rain on my skin, the echo of laughter that wasn’t laughter at all. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the memories back down where they belonged. They weren’t real. Not anymore. This was a second chance, wasn’t it? That’s what it was supposed to be. A different life. A chance to live without fear.

So why did it feel exactly the same?

I stared at the door. Their voices drifted faintly from the hall. Zane’s low and controlled, Luca’s sharper, irritated. Jax’s deeper tone cut through once, a short command that ended the argument. Footsteps faded. Silence again.

I should have felt relief. Instead, the quiet pressed against my ears until I couldn’t stand it. I crawled onto the bed and pulled the blanket around my shoulders. The sheets were too soft, the air too warm, and still I couldn’t stop shivering.

Every sound made me flinch. The tick of the clock, the whisper of wind against the shutters, my own heartbeat. My body didn’t trust any of it. Every time I blinked, I saw flashes that didn’t belong to this life: the red moon, the forest, the way Jax had looked at me right before the gunshot.

I wanted to forget. I wanted to believe they were different now, that this was just a dream twisted by grief. But when Zane’s voice from the hallway said my name, I realized I didn’t want him to open the door.

I wanted him to stay far, far away.

———

Morning came pale and reluctant. I hadn’t slept. The lock was still turned when I finally stood. Someone had left a tray outside—fruit, bread, a small note written in Zane’s tidy hand: Eat something.

I stared at it for a long time before closing the door again. The sight of his handwriting made my chest ache for reasons I couldn’t name.

I washed my face in the basin, the water cold enough to sting. My reflection in the mirror looked like a stranger—eyes too wide, lips colorless, hair tangled around my shoulders. The faint bruise on my wrist from Luca’s grip stood out like a brand. He hadn’t meant to hurt me. None of them ever thought they were hurting me. That was the problem.

A knock came again, softer this time. “Mira?” Zane’s voice, hesitant. “Can we talk?”

I gripped the edge of the table until my knuckles whitened. “No.”

“Please.”

“Go away.”

A pause, then a sigh. “All right. We’ll give you space.” Footsteps retreated.

I waited until I was sure he was gone before whispering to the empty room, “That’s what you said last time.”

The words fell flat against the walls. No one heard them. Maybe that was for the best.

I sank back onto the bed, the blanket pooling around me like a shield. The fear didn’t fade; it just settled deeper, like it was part of my bones now.

If they weren’t going to let me go, I’d find my own way out. I had done it once before.

And if the past really was repeating itself, maybe this time I’d be the one to finish it.