Page 19

Sam says something, but I don’t hear it and don’t care. It’s Friday and I’ve had enough. Their judgment clings like a noose—tightening every time I breathe. I grab my keys and get in the truck. In moments I’m leaving behind Dawson and the suffocating tension that clings to the air in town.

I need space. I need peace. Not the chaos of people, but the raw hum of nature—something real, something wild. So I drive east, toward the place that’s always been mine.

I hear it when I’m close. A soft roar that grows as I descend the forty-five slope. The truck grumbles louder as the trees close in like old friends welcoming me back. The road bends, and there it is—Venus River. Wide. Alive. Untamed.

A silver ribbon cutting through the night, wild and free. The current rushes past jagged rocks, glinting silver beneath the moonlight. The scent of damp earth and evergreen hits me, grounding me in the moment. Mist clings to the low branches like a whispered secret.

I park and kill the engine, then walk to the edge. My boots sink into the soft dirt, and for the first time all week, I breathe easier.

“Always the charmer,” I whisper, gazing out across the water.

Then the wind shifts and a rustle across the way draws my attention. My body tenses, instincts kicking in—not fear, but curiosity. A shape moves between the trees, graceful, deliberate. Then the figure steps into view.

Helena.

She parts the foliage like it obeys her. Her eyes flash crimson in the moonlight. Leaves slide off her cloak as if the forest itself parts to let her through. Her presence is as undeniable as the river itself. With a tap of her staff, she vanishes, then reappears at my side.

“It is charming, isn’t it?” she says, her voice thick with appreciation. “That’s the good thing about snow. When it melts, it gives life back.”

I nod, holding back my reservations at her sudden appearance.

“It’s good to see you again,” I say.

She crouches in a fluid movement that is almost feline.

“Lots of people have been asking about you,” I add. “Why did you vanish?”

“I’m not one for public praise,” she replies bluntly. “I know they love me. I don’t need to see it put on display. I’m not royalty, Raymond. I’m a witch who did what needed to be done.”

“I think more than a few people would call that humble,” I chuckle.

“What about you? I expected to find you in wolf form. Your brothers are always running wild,” she says, tilting her head and studying me.

I exhale, staring at the river’s edge.

“My wolf’s done enough damage lately.”

“Ah, North Haven,” she says and I nod. “I spoke with Monica. Not your finest hour.”

“You’re being generous,” I mutter. A shimmer catches my eye—a smooth stone near the bank. Funny how despite my being in the middle of regret, nature has time for beauty.

“I screwed up big time.”

“You men confuse me.” Her voice shifts, tone sharper now. “Monica told me some about you and Stacy. You rejected her. Days ago. Then you crash a party and act like you’ve got a claim? What changed?”

“Instinct,” I say immediately, but it feels hollow the second it leaves my lips.

She scoffs. “You say that like it absolves you.”

“It’s the truth,” I say, defensively.

“No, it’s a shield,” she says. “I’ve known your kind for centuries. The beast doesn’t act unless the man wants it too.”

I look at her, startled. “What are you saying?”

“You know exactly what I’m saying,” she snaps. “The wolf didn’t hijack you. Youlethim take the wheel because you craved the same thing.”

My chest tightens.