Isaldora now stood in the center of a clearing under a vast, star-pricked sky, her breath forming pale clouds in the cold air. Across the open field, a massive white wolf loomed, its fur gleaming like frost. She could almost feel the ground tremble beneath its weight. Even at this distance, she could imagine its sheer size if it drew near.
The wolf lifted its head and howled—a deep, raw sound that ached in her chest as though it carried pain too heavy for words.
She took a step toward it. The wolf's head snapped toward her, eyes locking on hers, and she froze. Those eyes… they were unlike anything she'd ever seen before, a shade that didn't belong to this world. Unique. Hypnotic. Oddly familiar.
She didn't even realize she was moving until the wolf charged toward her, swift as a storm wind. Her breath hitched, strength draining from her limbs instantly. She stumbled back, hitting the ground hard just as the wolf leapt, baring his fangs, her eyes closed—
—and next moment her eyes flew open to the dim ceiling of her room, looming in the faint glow of moonlight. Her chest rose and fell too quickly.
She had been seeing that white wolf for two years now, and still, she couldn't decipher its meaning. She didn't know why she kept seeing it, why those eyes felt like they could strip her bare. They were familiar—achingly so. She couldn't place them, couldn't remember ever looking into eyes like that, and yet… she knew them. Somehow.
She exhaled slowly, letting the pounding in her chest settle before turning her head toward the clock. It was still too early.
Pushing herself up, she tied her hair into a messy bun and swung her legs over the side of the bed, and got up, feet brushing against the cool floor, and wandered towards the window.
Isaldora sat on the cushioned ledge by the window, knees drawn up, her gaze fixed on the full moon.
And then, as it always did in these still hours, the ache crept in. She missed them. Every day. Their voices, their laughter, the way the halls of Aetherwyn used to feel alive.
She could almost feel them—not in any tangible way, but in the soft, impossible warmth that came only in dreams.
In those dreams, they laughed. They held her. The world felt whole again, if only for as long as she stayed asleep. And every time she woke, the emptiness hit sharper, like falling through ice.
Grief stirred in her chest, but she didn't cry. She never did anymore. Her eyes felt long emptied of tears, as if they had all been spent on that one night.
A heavy sigh left her, and she stood moving to the bathroom. She needed a shower to settle her thoughts.
The bathroom's heat welcomed her as she turned on the shower, steam rising quickly. She stepped out of her clothes and into the glass enclosure, letting the water beat against her skin.
When she stepped out, she reached for a towel and caught her reflection in the fogged mirror. At first, she barely noticed—but then she froze.
She rubbed her hand on the mirror only to stare at eyes she always hid under the glamour. And also the same eyes from her dreams, the ones the wolf had.
Moonlight silver-violet. The most unique shade indeed, and now it clicked why they felt familiar, because she had the same eyes.
But it didn't make sense. No, it was impossible. Her thoughts were jumbling. She looked back at the mirror. The resemblance was undeniable, yet how could a wolf's eyes mirror hers so perfectly?
She tore her gaze away, jaw tightening until it ached, forcing her lungs to draw in steady, controlled breaths. The steam rose between her hands, warm and soft against her skin, but it couldn't chase away the cold coil of unease winding through her chest. She didn't have the time for puzzling over riddles. Not when her list of enemies was still too long, and still had names left to cross off.
Each one would fall in turn, and she would watch them break as her coven had been broken. Focus was her weapon—and she would not set it down, not for anything.
Pushing the thoughts aside, she stepped out and glanced at the clock, and sighed. Yup, still too early for anyone sane to be awake.
She sighed, knowing there was no point trying to go back to bed. Sleep wasn't coming. So without bothering to change out of her bathrobe, she wandered into the kitchen.
She started making coffee—something she liked to do for herself. The simple ritual always steadied her. The hiss and low hum of the machine filled the silence, and the warm, rich, dark aroma began to curl through the air, wrapping around her like an invisible blanket.
Her shoulders eased without her noticing. She closed her eyes.
——
The sun rays were pouring through the tall windows of Isaldora's office as she stepped in. Her assistant trailed behind with a tablet clutched to her chest.
Isaldora settled into her chair, her gaze snapping to the clock on the wall.
Renna was late.
Strange. The girl was always here first—organized, polished, irritatingly punctual. Whatever else Renna might be, she was never late.
Isaldora tapped her nails against the desk, sharp clicks breaking the silence, before glancing at her assistant.
"Where's Renna?"
The woman blinked, startled. "I'm not sure, ma'am. She hasn't arrived yet."
And right on cue, the door creaked open.
Renna stepped in.
Isaldora's eyes narrowed instantly. Not because she was late—but because of how she looked. The girl was dressed like she'd just trekked through a snowstorm. Isaldora glanced out her window, and yes, the weather was anything but cold.
And the way she walked… stiff, awkward, like every step hurt.
It wasn't just today, either. For weeks now, she had been noticing little shifts—Renna fidgeting more, zoning out almost like daydreaming. And now this?
Isaldora's gaze sharpened, noticing Renna avoid eye contact.
"You're late," Isaldora said coolly, her voice sharp enough to cut.
Renna flushed instantly and let out the most awkward little laugh. "I… I f-fell asleep. Deep… very deep asleep. I was just really, umm… exhausted." She stumbled over the words like a kid caught red-handed.
Isaldora tilted her head, eyes narrowing further. "Exhausted? From what? Last I checked, I didn't assign you anything strenuous enough that should have left you half-dead this morning."
In truth, that was true—she hadn't. The only task Renna had last night was to escort the new girls to the club and ensure they understood their role. Hardly enough to wear someone down. So why was Renna standing here flushed, sheepish, and claiming exhaustion?
Renna fumbled, chewing the inside of her cheek, her gaze fixed on the floor like it had all the answers. Then she blurted, too quickly, "I… it wasn't the work. I mean, not exactly. I—I was doing some workouts." She forced a shaky laugh.
"Workouts?" Isaldora's brow arched, one corner of her lip twitching up. "Really? Funny… last time we spoke about workouts, you swore you were too lazy to bother. And now you're late because of them?" Her voice was smooth, sharp-edged with sarcasm.
Renna went redder than a ripe tomato.
"I… I just thought maybe it's good to stay in shape, y'know? So I gave it a try." She shifted from one foot to the other, wincing. Her body screamed in every possible way.
Isaldora leaned forward, irritation seeping into her tone. "What exactly were you doing, because the way you're squirming around, it looks like you ran a marathon. Twice."
Renna's face practically burst into flames. Because that was exactly what her night had felt like. Her mind betrayed her—flashes of lips against her skin, rough hands pinning her down, that consuming fire between pleasure and pain. Her breath caught, a shiver running through her before she could stop it.
Because truth was… it wasn't just last night. Nearly every night had been like that now, ever since she'd lost her virginity to a stranger at the club.
Isaldora's eyes narrowed to slits, looking at Renna smiling out of nowhere. "And why the hell are you smiling like a creep?" Her voice was flat, dripping with irritation. "Plus, your face looks like it's about to explode."
Renna stiffened, trying to smother the heat in her cheeks. "I-it's nothing," she rushed, forcing the weakest smile known to humankind.
Out of the corner of her eye, Isaldora caught her assistant failing miserably to hide a smirk.
Her head snapped toward her. "Something funny?"
The assistant paled on the spot, shaking her head violently. "N-no, ma'am."
"Good." Isaldora let her silence hang heavy before turning back to Renna.
"If your so-called workouts are gonna make you late…" Her tone was calm, uninterested, but the sarcasm underneath was razor-sharp. "…then you'll be doing them with me from now on. That way you don't get 'exhausted.'" She pressed on the word, watching as Renna's face darkened to the color of blood.
Isaldora studied her, genuinely confused now. Nothing she'd said was worth embarrassment, yet Renna looked like a guilty child about to combust. Her eyes darted everywhere but Isaldora, cheeks blazing, body tense.
"Would that be a problem?" Isaldora asked softly, her calm tone carrying an unspoken warning.
Renna swallowed so hard it was audible, then shook her head. "N-no. It's fine. I'll… I'll join you."
"Good." Isaldora leaned back, adjusting a bracelet at her wrist as if the whole exchange meant nothing. "You do remember we're expected at the party tonight, right?"
Renna froze mid-breath. "Tonight?" Panic flared across her face before she ducked her gaze, trying to hide it. She could barely stand, let alone strut around a party.
Isaldora's eyes narrowed. "Would that be a problem?"
Renna twisted her fingers together, fumbling. "Ummm… I—I don't think I can. I'm not feeling well." The words came out sheepish, nervous, weak.
"Not feeling well?" Isaldora's tone dropped colder, sharper.
Renna scrambled. "It's just… the workouts. I'm sore, y'know? Because of the exercise." She tacked on a soft, nervous laugh, but her voice cracked under Isaldora's scrutiny.
Isaldora's lips thinned. The girl's behavior was downright bizarre, borderline creepy. Still, she wasn't about to waste energy digging.
She turned to her assistant instead. "You'll join me for the party, then. Since someone here is acting uselessly."
Her words cut sharp, but Renna—though stung—looked secretly relieved. At least she wouldn't have to drag herself out tonight.