Page 5

The bell above The Mystic Page chimes softly as I push open the door, unleashing a flood of memories.

The bookstore smells exactly as I remember—old paper, Earl Grey tea, and the subtle hint of cinnamon that always clings to Ruby.

Late morning sunlight streams through the tall windows, catching dust motes dancing between towering shelves.

Even the ancient floorboards creak in familiar patterns under my feet.

"We're not quite open yet!" Ruby's voice calls from somewhere in the stacks. "Give me just a—" She emerges from behind a shelf of leather-bound grimoires and freezes, dark eyes widening. "Luna?"

I manage a weak smile. "Surprise?"

All five-foot-three of Ruby Mulligan launches herself at me with a squeal that would scandalize her usual scholarly customers. We collide in a tangle of limbs and laughter, and for a moment, I'm eighteen again, seeking refuge from pack politics in my best friend's domain.

"You absolute witch!" She pulls back to study my face, her own alight with joy.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I had to hear it from Mrs. Peterson at the grocery store, of all people, and she only knew because her nephew's on border patrol and, and I was half-convinced you wouldn’t even come, that you’d try to run—" She stops, realization darkening her expression.

"The lottery. They're making you participate. "

I nod, throat tight. Ruby's arm slides around my waist, guiding me toward the back of the store where her private reading nook waits.

Nothing has changed here either—the same overstuffed armchairs, the eternally steaming teapot, the wall of rare books Ruby won't sell at any price. It was our sanctuary since high school, when this place belonged to Ruby’s late mother, when we bonded over being the pack's eternal outsiders—me the hybrid who couldn't shift, her the human-born who could never quite fit in despite her strategic brilliance and her family’s long-established presence among the magical.

"Talk to me," she says, pressing a cup of tea into my hands. The familiar blend of chamomile and valerian soothes my frayed nerves. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm..." The words stick in my throat. "I don't know. Everything here feels both exactly the same and completely different. Does that make sense?"

Ruby settles into her chair, tucking her feet under her. Time has been kind to her—her black hair might be shorter now, styled in a sophisticated bob, but her face still holds the same quiet intelligence I remember. "A lot has changed since you left. Especially after Old Alpha Blackwood's death."

My hands tighten around the teacup. "I heard about that. Heart attack, right?"

"Mm. Six months ago. Nic's been... interesting as Alpha." She studies me over her own cup. "He's trying to modernize things. Challenging some of the old prejudices. Not always successfully, but he's trying. When the Council proposed this, I suspect he believed he didn’t have much of a choice."

Something in my chest twists at the mention of his name.

As if summoned by our discussion, movement catches my eye through the bookstore's back window.

Nic stands at one of the pack house's high windows, his figure unmistakable even at this distance.

Even after five years, I'd know those broad shoulders, that commanding stance anywhere.

As if sensing my gaze, he turns slightly.

Our eyes meet across the distance, and my magic surges in response, rattling the teacups.

Then he's gone, vanishing into the shadows of his office, leaving me with a racing heart and unwanted memories...

The night before, everything fell apart.

Nic's cabin smells of pine and woodsmoke, with undertones of the coffee he's always drinking and the leather of his favorite armchair.

Rain patters against the windows, creating a cozy cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

His hands are everywhere—sliding under my shirt, tracing my curves with reverent hunger.

"Luna," he groans against my neck. "My Luna."

"Someone will notice I'm gone," I whisper, even as I arch into his touch. We've been careful these past three months, meeting in secret spots in the forest, stealing moments between his Alpha training sessions. But this is different. Riskier. Being in his cabin feels like a declaration.

"Let them notice." His voice is rough with need. His wolf is close to the surface, eyes glowing amber as he pulls back to study my face. Rain has darkened his black hair, and firelight plays across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. "I don't want to hide anymore."

Hope blooms dangerous in my chest. "Nic..."

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, thumbs tracing circles on my hips. "We can wait if—"

"Yes," I breathe, and then his mouth is on mine again, desperate and claiming.

We stumble toward his bed, leaving a trail of clothes in our wake.

His skin burns against mine, muscle and heat and need.

Every touch feels electric, my magic responding to his wolf's energy in ways I've never experienced before.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, hands mapping my curves like he's memorizing them. "Perfect. Mine." His wolf rumbles in approval as I run my fingers down his chest, tracing the muscles I've dreamed about touching.

When he finally slides into me, my magic explodes outward in a burst of pure joy, shattering a nearby lamp. The crash barely registers. Nothing exists except this moment, this connection.

"Mine," he growls again, and I believe him with every fiber of my being. Believe this means something real, something lasting. His wolf howls as we move together, and for once, I don't feel broken or wrong or less-than. I feel whole.

"Nic," I gasp as pleasure builds between us. "I need—"

"I know, darling. I've got you." His rhythm speeds up, one hand sliding between us to draw me closer to the edge. My magic sparks and swirls around us, creating patterns of light in the darkness.

Hours later, tangled in his sheets, I trace the tattoo over his heart—the intricate pack symbol he'll carry as future Alpha. In the firelight, the black lines seem to move, telling stories of legacy and duty. Of birthright.

"I love you," I whisper, thinking he's asleep. The words feel like both a prayer and a curse.

His arms tighten around me. "Luna..." There's something in his voice, something that should warn me. A hesitation. A fear. But I'm too happy, too complete in this moment to hear it. Instead, I press closer, breathing in his scent, pretending this night can last forever.

"We'll find a way," he murmurs into my hair. "I promise."

The next night, he breaks my heart in front of the entire pack.

"Luna?" Ruby's voice pulls me back to the present. "Where did you go just now?"

I blink away the memory, my skin still tingling with phantom touches. "Nowhere good."

"Mm-hmm." She eyes me knowingly. "Would this 'nowhere' happen to involve a certain Alpha and his cabin in the woods?"

"Ruby!"

"What? The whole pack might like to pretend that never happened, but I remember how you looked that summer. Like you were glowing from the inside out." She reaches across to squeeze my hand. "You deserved better than how it ended."

I swallow hard. "It doesn't matter now. Ancient history. I’m long since over it."

"Sure. That's why your magic just made every book on the romance shelf fall over." She nods toward the mess of fallen paperbacks. "Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, and I know she’ll respect that. "Tell me more about what's changed. People have mentioned problems at the borders. And no matter its outcome, surely the lottery won’t stabilize matters.”

Ruby's expression turns serious. She sets down her cup and moves to check that the store's front door is locked. When she returns, her face is carefully neutral.

"There have been... incidents. Wolves disappearing from neighboring territories. Whole packs finding their borders compromised. The Council's been trying to keep it quiet, but..." She hesitates. "It reminds me of the stories. About what happened to your parents."

My throat closes up. "Ruby..."

"I know, I know. But Luna, the patterns are similar.

The way the attacks seem targeted, strategic.

And now, suddenly, they're reviving the lottery after fifty years?

" She leans forward, voice dropping. "Something's coming.

The pack feels it, even if most don't understand what they're sensing. There's this... tension in the air."

She's right. I've felt it since I arrived—an electric undercurrent that makes my magic restless. "Why now? Why bring me back after all this time?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out.

" Ruby rises, pulling a leather-bound journal from her private collection.

"I've been researching the lottery's history.

Did you know it was originally created as a response to some kind of threat?

The records are vague, but they talk about 'dark forces' that feed on pack discord. "

I take the journal, recognizing the elaborate script. "These are Elder Victoria's notes?"

Ruby grins. "Being the pack's primary book supplier has its advantages. People forget I exist until they need something rare. And they definitely forget I can read the old languages." Her smile fades. "Luna... be careful. Whatever's happening, you're somehow important to it. I can feel it."

A howl echoes from the forest—the signal for an upcoming pack meeting. My stomach churns. I'll have to face them all soon, endure their stares and whispers. "I should go prepare."

Ruby hugs me tight. "You're stronger than them. Don't let them make you forget that again. And once it’s over, you’re home free—and I know you’re happier out there than here."

I squeeze her back, grateful beyond words for this one true friendship in a den of wolves. "I've still missed you, Ruby. Nothing could change that."

"Missed you too, witch-girl. Now go show them what you've become."

Instead of heading straight back to my assigned quarters, I find myself walking toward the forest trail.

The woods have always been Silvercreek's heart, ancient pines standing sentinel over generations of pack life.

The path is well-worn, with dappled sunlight playing over fallen leaves.

My magic hums contentedly here, away from judging eyes.

I pause at the edge of Shadow Creek, where Nic and I used to meet in secret.

The water still tumbles over moss-covered rocks, eternal and unchanged.

How many nights did we spend here, planning a future that could never exist?

How many promises did we whisper, thinking love could overcome pack law and tradition?

The path winds through stands of ancient pine and maple, their branches creating ever-shifting patterns of light and shadow.

Here and there, younger trees grow in clusters—planted by new pack members during their claiming ceremonies.

I pass the twisted oak where Nic first kissed me, its bark still bearing claw marks from where his wolf got excited and forgot to stay contained.

Every step feels haunted by memory. The hollow log where we used to leave notes for each other. The flat rock by the creek's edge where we planned impossible futures. The small clearing where he first told me his wolf recognized something special in me, even if I couldn't shift.

A movement in the underbrush startles a laugh out of me—just a rabbit, but for a moment, my heart leaped like it used to when we were sneaking around.

The forest feels alive with secrets, with possibility.

Or maybe that's just my magic responding to being back in pack territory, back where it first awakened.

The pack building looms through the trees, its windows watching like judging eyes. Soon, I'll have to walk back into that viper's nest, face the whispers and stares, pretend none of it touches me. Soon, I'll have to see Nic up close, be in the same room with him for the first time in five years.

I won't break, I promise myself, letting my magic flow through me like armor. I won't let them see me cry again.

But as I turn back toward town, my heart still aches with the desire to run—to return to my shop, my quiet life, my hard-won peace. Instead of doing any of that, I straighten my spine and walk toward the gathering storm.