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Mutter Wulf. Vater Wulf.

Baby Wulf.

Sadie

I’m still locked away in the fortress room.

Whittling wolves.

“Got her out but… seems… trapped inside her mind… scared… Anything we can…?” There’s a warped voice speaking on the other side of the fortress room’s locked metal door.

Not real.

Mutter Wulf.

“Appears… suffering… psychosis…” another warped voice says.

A wave of worry crashes in—different, fresher than all the others.

Real? Maybe. The emotions aren’t mine, though.

I keep carving.

Vater Wulf.

“Already days… How long will she…?”

A bright light floods the room.

That happens sometimes.

I pay it no attention.

Just continue carving.

Baby Wulf.

“Days… sometimes weeks… years… Our clinic… not equipped…”

Despair joins the worry.

Not mine. I’m whittling wolves.

But then a booted foot suddenly crashes down on my wolf family.

CRACK!

A higher-pitched warped voice asks, “Anything yet?… Brought… boys to meet her…”

Oh.

Better start again.

Mutter Wulf.

“Only images… giving us… carving wolves, over and over again…”

Vater Wulf.

“Hold… nephew while I… her hair… Least I can do…. Tadhg’s gutted.”

Baby Wulf.

The foot comes down again.

CRACK! I’ll need to start over.

“Sadie. Sadie. Are you processing my voice?” A piece of black silk glides across my skin.

“If-then, please reboot and come back to us. Clear this buffer.”

There’s a full moon speaking to me.

But all the windows are boarded shut.

I can’t see it. But I want to.

“Her eyes shifted… I think she’s trying to blink—Sadie? Sadie?”

Oh well.

Back to whittling.

Mutter Wulf.

Vater Wulf.

“Sadie… here, take this… Remember… Come out of this… Come back to us…”

The original voice is louder now.

It carries so much authority.

But I need to carve the…

Baby Wulf — hold on.

I open my hand, and there’s not a baby wolf in it, but a large, rotund animal.

A bear. Intricately carved, with details too fine for my little whittling knife to pull off.

There’s a streak gouged from its eye to its ear.

What is this?

I blink.

“Oh God—did you see that? It worked! She blinked.”

The intense worry ebbs.

Just a bit.

“Hand me the light… the one the doctor left.”

A bright light floods the room.

This time it’s blinding.

I raise my hands to shield my eyes.

“Turn it off,” I croak, my voice brittle from disuse.

The light disappears.

And, suddenly, I’m in a washroom.

My room. At the palace.

Seated on the velvet lounge that never quite made sense.

Declan and the Shadow King are crouched in front of me.

They both have beards now.

Weeks of growth. Unkempt and wild.

They’re still the most beautiful males I’ve ever seen.

And most importantly…

Not the Mountain King.

“Hi,” I whisper with a little smile.

Their relief floods through me as they lunge forward and pull me into their arms.