Soren's POV
The forest swallowed the manor's glow behind me, leaving nothing but moonlight, pine, and the restless burn under my skin.
I hadn't meant to shift.
But the moment she crossed the border—whoever she was—my wolf surged upward like it had been waiting its whole damn life.
Unwanted.Uncontrolled.Instant.
It took everything in me to steady my breath.
A branch snapped to my right.
Not a threat.
Kai.
He slipped between the trees like a blade of night cutting through the dark. When he stopped beside me, he shifted with a controlled crack of bone and shadow, standing tall, broad, and cold as the river ice.
My beta.My brother.The one wolf more dangerous in temper than me.
"Alpha," Kai said, voice low. "Your shift hit the whole ridge."
Meaning the pack felt the surge—felt me lose control.
I clenched my jaw.
Kai's eyes narrowed a fraction. Not emotional. Just assessing.
"That wasn't voluntary," he said.
"No."
He stepped closer, but not too close—Kai never invaded space unless he meant something by it.
"What did you sense?"
I didn't speak at first.The image burned behind my eyes—the moment the girls stepped through the manor doors behind Thorne. The way one presence hit my chest like a blow.
"She crossed the land," I said quietly.
Kai's expression didn't change, but something in him sharpened.
"The newcomer."
He didn't ask how I knew.He knew I did.
"I don't know what she is," I admitted.
"But you reacted. Hard."
A muscle in my jaw twitched. "Yes."
Kai was silent for a long moment.
"The wolf doesn't move like that unless something triggers it."
Not something.Someone.
But I wasn't ready to say that.Not out loud.Not even to him.
Kai glanced toward the manor, golden eyes narrowing.
"Do you want scouts posted?"
"No."
"Perimeter tightened?"
"No."
Kai looked at me in that quiet, too-perceptive way of his.
"So we do nothing?"
"We watch," I said."And we wait."
"For danger?" he pressed.
"For whatever she brings with her."
Kai didn't like that answer. I felt it in the stiffening of his shoulders, the deepened frown.
But he didn't challenge me.
He only nodded once—a soldier accepting an order he didn't understand yet.
"The pack will be ready," he said.
A breeze swept between us, carrying pine and cold earth… and something deeper. Not scent—because he was never close enough for that.
But even from this distance, he felt the shift in the land.We both did.
She had changed something the moment she arrived.
Kai turned, dark hair falling over his eyes as he melted back into the forest to prepare the others.
And I stood alone beneath the moon—a wolf fighting a connectionI never asked forbut could no longer ignore.
Nora & Lila
The moment the door to Nora's room clicked shut behind them, both girls finally let out the breath they'd been holding. Nora leaned back against the wood. "Okay… okay. That howl was too close," Lila finished, pacing a small circle. "Nope. I'm good. Totally fine. Completely unbothered. Not scared at all." She was very scared. Nora gave her a small smile. "Let's… just look around. Maybe it'll distract us." Lila stopped pacing. "Or we find something worse. But sure. Lead the way." Nora flicked on a lamp. The room glowed warm amber—soft blankets, carved furniture, old-world charm that somehow felt brand new. Everything looked hand-picked… almost curated for her. She walked deeper inside, fingertips brushing the edge of the bed. "This feels… weirdly familiar." Lila snorted. "Yeah? My room better come with a defibrillator if it's anything like this." Nora hesitated at a tall door. "Probably the closet." "Open it," Lila whispered dramatically. "If a monster jumps out, I'll call 911." "On who? The house?" "YES, NORA." Nora rolled her eyes, exhaled, and pulled the door open— —and froze. Lila peered over her shoulder. "Oh. No way." It wasn't a closet. Not a normal one. It stretched deep—far deeper than should be possible—lined with shelves, hooks, drawers, and softly glowing lanterns hanging from iron brackets. A walk-in. A massive walk-in. But that wasn't the strange part. At the far end… was another door. Lila's jaw dropped. "That… that's my room, isn't it?" Nora nodded slowly. "Only one way to find out." They stepped inside the shared closet. Their footsteps echoed softly over polished wood floors. The air smelled faintly of cedar and old stone—as if the space had been waiting for them. Lila reached out and touched a lantern. The flame brightened—warm, almost welcoming. "Okay," she whispered. "This house is either enchanted… or I've developed superpowers." "Definitely the first one," Nora said. "RUDE." Nora pushed the door at the opposite end. It swung open smoothly. Lila's room waited on the other side—softer colors, a huge window overlooking the forest, and delicate touches that felt strangely like her. She stepped inside slowly. "…this is beautiful." Nora smiled. "It fits you." Lila turned in a slow circle, eyes shining despite the fear still hovering around her edges. "Hey," Nora said gently. "We're okay. It's just a house." "Just a house," Lila echoed—then pointed dramatically at the ceiling. "A house that EXPLAINS NOTHING and has SECRET DOORS and breathes." Nora lifted a shoulder. "Still better than our old foster home." Lila froze, then nodded slowly. "…yeah. You're right." They moved deeper inside Lila's room, letting their shoulders drop as the adrenaline finally thinned. But then— both girls stopped at the same time. Because the candle on Lila's dresser flickered once. Then twice. Then blew out. And another flame, across the room, flared bright. Lila whispered, "Nope. Nope nope NOPE—Nora, tell the house to stop communicating." "It's… just drafts?" Nora tried. Lila gave her the Look. "Organized drafts, remember?" Nora sighed. "Fair." They stood close together, listening to the shift of the air. No more howls. No more footsteps. Just the deep, living quiet of the manor settling around them. Lila tugged Nora's sleeve. "Hey… I'm sleeping in your room tonight." Nora smiled softly. "I figured." They crossed back into the shared closet, passing through the lantern-lit space and stepping into Nora's room once more—closer, calmer, but still buzzing with the kind of electricity neither of them had words for yet. They made a small nest on Nora's bed—blankets pulled close, pillows stacked behind them, Lila's hands still slightly shaky even though she pretended otherwise. The manor was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against their ears, waiting. Nora lay back against the headboard. Lila curled up beside her, arms crossed tight. "If anything whispers," she muttered, "I'm moving into Thorne's creepy archive forever." "Please don't," Nora whispered. "He'd lecture you on glowing jars." "True. I'd rather take my chances with the ghost-drafts." The lamp beside them flickered once. Both girls froze. "…Nora?" Lila whispered. "I saw it." The flame steadied again. But the room felt different. Heavier. Like someone had just inhaled. Lila swallowed. "Do you think this place is actually… alive?" Nora didn't answer at first. Because something shifted to her right. Her suitcase—closed a moment ago—now sat with the zipper slightly undone. Just slightly. Like a fingertip had tugged it open. "Lila." Nora pointed, voice thin. Lila followed her gaze and nearly rolled off the bed. "Nope. Absolutely not. Did you touch that?" "No," Nora whispered. "I didn't." They watched. A slow breath of cold air drifted across the room. The curtains swayed. Not from the window— from inside. Nora's pulse hammered. "Lila…" The lamp flickered again— but this time, the flame didn't dim. It brightened. Softly at first. Then stronger. Bathing the room in a glow that wasn't harsh or threatening… just warm. Lila blinked. "Are we… are we being tucked in by a house?" Nora let out a shaky laugh. "It feels like it." A soft knock sounded behind them. Both girls whipped around— But it wasn't the door. It came from the closet. The shared closet. Nora stood up slowly. Carefully. Her hand hovered over the doorknob. "Nora," Lila hissed. "Do not open that—" But the door opened on its own. Just an inch. Just enough. The lanterns inside the walk-in glowed brighter, one by one— like stepping-stones lighting a path. And on the floor, at the entrance to the closet, lay something neither girl had put there: A folded blanket. Thick. Soft. Old—as old as the manor itself. Lila whispered, "Did the house just… give us a blanket?" Nora swallowed. "I think it's trying to comfort us." Lila stared at it for a long moment. "…that's worse somehow." Nora shook her head gently, trying not to show how deeply unsettled she truly was. She picked up the blanket anyway. The moment her fingers brushed the fabric— the lamps dimmed to a soft glow, the curtains stilled, the suitcase zipper closed on its own with a faint click. And the air warmed. Like a sigh of relief. Lila pulled the blanket tightly around both of them the moment Nora returned to the bed. "…okay," Lila murmured, sinking into the warmth. "I hate it here less now." Nora managed a small smile, even as her heart thudded hard in her chest. "We're going to be okay," she whispered. But the truth was— Neither girl slept easily. Because long after the room stilled… long after the lights settled… long after the house went quiet… the faintest echo of something old and unseen shifted behind the walls. Listening. Stirring. Awakening. Because they were finally home.