hat do you think?" Summer looked at the brown eyes sitting in Finn's face. He was excited, she could tell. She should be, too. But she just couldn't find it in her heart this early. Not at 7 a.m., standing barefoot, bright-eyed, staring at the jeep her brother had gotten her.
"You're not happy," Finn said.
"No, no, I am. I love it."
"But?"
"But, Finn... It's 7 in the morning."
It took him a second to register that.
"Oh. Oh, shit. I'm normally up this early, I didn't think. Sorry, Summer."
"It's cool. I do love the Jeep. It's nice. Is it new?"
"No. I bought it off, Avery."
Her brow lifted. "Avery?"
"Ezra's younger sister."
That name did something to her chest. Just hearing it brought flutters. She was like a schoolgirl with a crush, only this time she hadn't even spoken two words to the guy.
She smiled and stepped closer to Finn. "I love it. Thank you."
The small tug of his mouth and the tilt of his head reminded her of their mother when she was happy.
"Here are the keys. Inside the glove compartment is a map of the entire area, everything's marked. If you need anything, call me, Jesse, or even Suki."
"Thank you, Finn. Really. I know you didn't have to do this."
"Pushhhh. Why wouldn't I? You're my sister."
Step, she thought, but said nothing.
"Come on. Breakfast should be almost ready. After that, Jesse's going to show you around."
"Jesse? Why not Suki? Or Jake? Or you? I don't even know the kid."
"Look, he can help you. He'll help you get acclimated." She looked at him from head to toe, sighed, "I can always go by myself."
"Yeah, you can," Finn said. "But people don't know you. And most people around here? They don't like strangers."
"Okay, okay. What time?"
He checked his watch and clicked his tongue. "Let's say around ten. That way you'll be done before two and can spend the rest of the day doing whatever, shopping, checking out the college, whatever."
Was she really about to spend her day doing things she didn't want to do? Just to make Finn happy?
Maybe. "Cool. Can't wait." She smiled widely.
****
After breakfast, with Jesse in the driver's seat, they set off. The ride was quiet at first. But started to get livelier while they drove. Summer stared out the window, watching the town wake up. She liked the buildings. She liked the people, even if some of them stared at her too long. Still, they looked happy, well-adjusted. They looked certain of who they were.
"So here," Jesse said, chewing around a gum he had offered, but she wasn't in the mood. "We have everything. And I mean everything. That's why people hardly leave."
"Why?" she asked, squinting at a small row of colorful shops. "You guys are pretty much cut off from the rest of the world. I had to take five planes, a ferry, and another tiny-ass plane just to get here."
"Yeah. But it works. We've got a system."
They passed a couple kissing on the sidewalk, completely unbothered by the cold.
"This whole island," Jesse said, "is Kuin Island."
"I know that."
"Okay. But do you know who owns it?"
"I'm assuming the government."
He laughed. "Most people do. But it's not. Remember the guy who was standing next to your brother the night you came in?"
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Vaguely."
"Well, his name is Ezra, his great-great-great-grandfather—family, whatever, came here after a war that wiped almost half their civilization away. Built all this so his people wouldn't have to suffer again. And eventually, more folks came. Settled. Helped."
They reached a wide path dusted with snow, the road stretching long and white into hills that belonged in a painting. Jesse slowed the car, nodding toward the rows of houses ahead.
"Okay. This is the first community. We call it the Valley. The second one's up on the mountain, that's where we stay-below. That's where Kuins also live."
She leaned closer to the window. "It's huge."
"There are more houses south, but the rest is just forest. Trees. Old trails. Stuff you don't want to mess with. I'm being serious when I say don't go down there. People disappear."
He looked at her, eyes wide as if telling a campfire story, then burst out laughing.
"I may be laughing, but I'm not joking." He tugged up his shirt just enough to show a faded scar stretched across his side. "Wolf got me about two years ago. Left me this as a trophy."
Her brows pulled together. "If there are wild animals, why not hunt them? From the looks of it, they've got the people, the money…"
"Yeah, they could. But most of the time, it's better to leave them be. This place works because we don't try to control everything. And besides, we hunt what we eat."
They drove past a frozen creek, then turned onto a quieter road lined with tall evergreens. Everything about this place was different. As if the world outside never made it this far.
She looked around at the homes tucked neatly into snow-covered lots. People lived here, made lives here. They'd built from nothing, carved a community out of woods and cold and silence. Could she do that? Could she build something with nothing?
She rubbed her gloved hands together and breathed into the space between them. "You guys ever get summer out here?"
"Yeah. In about a month, the snow starts melting."
She hesitated, then asked, "Have you ever thought about leaving, Jesse?"
"To where?" he asked.
"The outside. The world."
He shrugged. "Sure. Who hasn't? But even if I wanted to… I love being here. It's home. My family's here."
He was young. Still saw things with hope and happiness. She smiled a little at that.
"Can I show you something?" he asked.
They drove until they reached a secluded part of the forest that reached into the mountains of the valley.
"Where are we going?" she asked as they stepped away from the car. The snow crunched under her boots.
"Come on. I'll show you. This part of the forest is generally safe."
"Generally," she muttered, blowing warm air into her hands. "Why aren't you cold?"
"I run on heat. But who says I'm not?" he said, laughing as he nudged a low branch out of the way.
"Careful with that," He said, pushing past it.
"Why are all the communities so far from each other? It's a big island. You'd think people would stick together." She said, trying to keep up with his pace.
"Most likely their privacy. Some parts of the land weren't livable, so a few families moved south. Others stayed where the old communities were. The valley has way more people than where we live."
"But that's even farther. And the south's closer to danger, right? You'd think they'd want strength in numbers."
"They know the risks and how to handle them. No one's had any serious injuries in years." His brown eyes flicked toward her with a grin. He moved like he didn't care what anyone thought.
"Can I ask another question?"
"Finn never mentioned you were this curious."
She flushed. "Oh. Sorry. I'm just... trying to understand."
"No, it's fine. Ask."
They climbed over a boulder slick with frost, ducked beneath tangled branches, and stepped around fallen trees. A squirrel darted past them, then a cat—black and fast—vanished into the brush.
"I'm not trying to be rude," she said carefully, "but... why do you live with my brother?"
"Ah. Here we are."
He stepped aside, letting her move forward.
What she saw stopped her breath. Water rushed from high above, a thick sheet of silver crashing down into a pool so blue it looked unreal. Rocks shimmered beneath the surface, slick with moss. The trees bent toward the waterfall like they were listening. Pale wildflowers grew thick around the edge.
"This is Crushwave," he said. "Only waterfall on the island with no real source. Some say it comes from the ocean. No one's found where it starts."
"And what do you think?" she asked.
"I think it's its world. Animals come here for water. I come here to think." He stepped closer to the edge. "My parents disowned me a few years ago."
She blinked. "Why?"
"I was a mess. Drugs. Tattoos. Got arrested twice. Caused a lot of trouble. They kept warning me. Then one day I nearly got my baby sister killed."
"The wolf attack?"
He nodded. "Yeah. My family lives down in the valley now. I still talk to my sister sometimes. But my parents? Nothing."
She didn't speak. Just listened.
"It's not a secret. But for some reason, you make me want to talk. And I barely even know you." He paused, then smiled to himself. "The Kuins took me in after that. Gave me a place. Now I live with your brother. It's good, honestly."
"I'm sorry."
"It's cool. Really." He turned from the water. "Come on. We should head back before someone decides to send a search party."
They walked back together, their boots crunching through the snow, the air growing colder, the sky turning a softer gray.
Behind them, something shifted in the trees.
They didn't hear it. Didn't see the way the branches stopped swaying.
Didn't notice how the birds had gone quiet.
Didn't realize they weren't the only ones out there.
****
There was a time before packs, before names, before the bond. A time of only forest and moon.
A goddess, young and wild-hearted, fell in love with a wolf. He was no ordinary beast. His fur shimmered like silver under the moon, and his eyes were a deep, watchful Egyptian blue, the color of rivers and forgotten skies. He moved with the grace of wind and hunted not for hunger but for the thrill of the chase. The forest bent to him. Predators paused in his presence. The world made way.
The goddess watched him from the stars and wept, for she loved what could never love her back. He was wild. He was a wolf. He had no use for gods.
She begged her father for a gift: a way to make the wolf man, to bring him closer to her. Her father warned her that power comes with a price. Still, he gave it. When the wolf drank from the goddess's palm, his body twisted and changed. He became the first lycan. No longer just a wolf. No longer just a man.
He could walk as a man and hunt as a beast. His blood ran hotter than any wolf. He aged slowly. He could understand the language of all animals, even those who feared his scent. Stronger than the packs, smarter than the prey, he ruled with instinct sharpened by thought.
Lonely, the goddess bore him a child, part divinity, part beast. The child bore the name Velkar, meaning–first fang. She hoped that through this child, the world might find balance between man and wolf. But peace is a fragile thing.
The lycan Child, still ruled by longing, sought companionship. Others came, drawn to his strength. Wolves found mates among humans. Humans found bonds with wolves. The magic was rare, but it lived in all of them. Some never found their other half. Others lived their whole lives beside them, never knowing. But lycans were not like the rest.
His blood was too strong. His bite was too strong for mortals. No wolf of a weaker bloodline could survive mating with a lycan. Some wolves, desperate for more, begged him to share his blood. Some he gave his name; others he turned with a bite. But his blood was too strong. His bite killed some. It drove others mad. And those who tried to bond with him—who tried to love him—shattered under the weight of what he was.
The goddess saw what her love had created and returned once more. To spare the bloodshed, she gave the lycans one exception: they could only bond with those born wolves. She gave them the bond, a thread woven by fate, binding two souls so that the mating would not destroy but transform. Only those whose bodies could carry the bond, survive the bite, and return it.
Even then, the bond was rare. Sacred. It could not be forced. It could not be stolen. And though many sought it, only a handful in each generation would ever find their other half.
Ezra closed the book with a quiet thud. Dust rose from the binding, curling in the soft light bleeding through the tall windows. He stared at the cover for a moment, then dropped his gaze to his hands. They were shaking.
He hadn't eaten. He'd barely slept. And still, none of it explained the hollow ache in his chest. It didn't make sense. None of it did. He'd read every story he could find, traced every bloodline, and still nothing explained her. Summer Waverton. A human. His mate.
Why would the goddess bind him to someone who would never survive even carrying the mark? She had no lineage. No wolf in her. No explanation. And yet, he could feel her. Even now, across the forest, through stone and trees and the thick press of pack bonds, he could feel the thread tug.
Ezra rubbed his face with the heel of his hand, dragged in a breath, then stood. The sky outside had gone grey. Another night wasted. Another page turned with no answers. The bond wasn't a gift for all. Only those born to wolves.
So what the hell did that make her? And what did it make him, that he still wanted her anyway?