The pull starts the morning after the fae attack, as we’re leaving Pack Quartz. It’s like a whisper in my blood, tugging me closer to something that feels like home.
We’ve been on the road for hours since leaving Pack Quartz behind, my motorcycle a comforting vibration beneath me as Kieran lopes alongside the road in his wolf form. With every mile we cover, the sensation of the pull gets stronger. It’s like a primal call in my veins, both thrilling and terrifying me.
Home. The word echoes in my mind with each pulse of my heart drawing me forward. I’ve never had much of a real home to call my own—certainly not the orphanage where I spent my early years. Gran’s house in the center of Pack Jade’s territory came close, but it always felt temporary there, aware that Carrie’s generosity was all that allowed me in. Even the cabin I share with Dana feels more likehersthanours,the outskirts outside the window a constant reminder of my painful rejection.
This pull, this longing, is altogether new. It feels like belonging, like something that is mine and mine alone.
By late afternoon, the sensation is so strong that I have to pull the bike over. My hands are trembling, sweaty in my fingerless riding gloves, the handlebars jerky in my grip. Myheart is racing so loud that as Kieran shifts back to human form and lopes over to me, messily jerking a shirt over his head, I’m sure he can hear every beat of my heart.
“What is it? Did you sense the fae?” He studies me with his ice blue eyes. “Are you alright? Aurora?”
I shake my head, words on the tip of my tongue. How to describe a feeling like home when I’ve never had it before, and I can’t be sure it isn’t just a cruel trick of fae magic?
“I can feel… something. This pull inside me, like some part of me needs to get there as soon as possible. Almost like I’m headed… home.”
Understanding dawns on his face, quickly followed by a fresh wave of concern. I don’t know what’s worse—drunken Kieran mumbling half-formed apologies and telling me I’m beautiful, or this man standing in front of me right now, worried in the face of my pain and confusion. I’d almost rather he be cruel again, to shake me out of the stupor of my damned feelings.
“We’re getting close to Pack Onyx territory. Maybe we should make camp for the night so you can rest.” I hate how empathetic his face is right now. “We’ve been on the road all day, after all, and it’ll be better if we get there tomorrow when the sun is up.”
The sun is already sinking toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. I reluctantly nod, and we find a small clearing that looks defensible and has a little copse of trees around it. As Kieran gathers wood for a fire, I unpack our supplies, the rhythm of our wordless preparation feeling dangerously familiar. Despite everything that’s happened, the bond still thrums between us, connecting our fates for good or ill.
Kieran has the fire going within moments, its heat and light a soothing balm as the darkness steals the sun’s warmth away. Sitting on my sleeping bag as close to the flames as I can get, I listen to it crackle and pop, staring deep into the light. Kieransettles across from me, his broad shoulders tense, his eyes reflecting the firelight as he looks around, always on alert for enemies.
I feel the tug again, and turn my shoulders slightly so I can look out toward the road. It’s a longing deep inside me, growing stronger even than the broken mate bond. Even if I don’t know where home is, something in my blood does.
“What does it feel like?” Kieran asks in a low, patient voice that makes my cheeks heat.
“It feels like home,” I say again, shaking my head. “I don’t know how to explain it. I guess I’ve never really felt homesick before, but now I do, only I’m homesick for a place I don’t even remember.”
He’s silent for a long moment, then surprises me by asking, “What was it like, growing up in Pack Jade?”
The question catches me off guard. We’ve never really talked about this—about my childhood. He was there for most of it, of course, but that’s not the same as experiencing it the way I did.
I consider saying something empty and meaningless like I usually do when people ask questions like this: I’m grateful for Alpha Cade’s generosity, it was so noble of him to take me in, I don’t really miss my family or my pack because I don’t remember them. Things like that reassure people that there’s nothing under the surface of my tragic backstory, so they don’t ask any follow-up questions, or point out that I’m full of shit.
Something about the darkness that hides us from view, or the pull of belonging in my blood, makes me want to open up.
“I never belonged, and everyone knew it just by looking at me,” I say quietly, staring into the heat of the flames until I have to blink tears away. “Even before I knew I couldn’t shift, I was different than the other kids. They would work together using the pack bond, or their family bonds, and they could just… sense each other in a way I never could, because they belongedtogether. And they belonged to the land. I didn’t have that, didn’t have family.”
Kieran’s gaze is so intense that I feel it pull my eyes away from the fire and toward his solemn face. “But you had Gran,” he prompts gently. “That must have been something.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” I smile a little. “She was my lighthouse in the storm of my childhood. She never made me feel like I was broken or wrong. Maybe because she came from another pack, just like me.”
“Pack Granite. Did she tell you stories about them? Stories beside what she taught you about the fae?”
“Oh yeah—Gran is full of stories.” I grin, and Kieran smiles back softly, making my heart do a backflip. “She could turn any little moment into a grand tale of adventure, and that’s not counting theactualtales of adventure she had, ones that were about hunting the fae and saving her fellow pack members from certain doom. I swear, she must’ve saved the world a dozen times.” My grin falters as I tell him, “But she couldn’t give me what I really wanted or needed: a pack. A place to belong. A family to call my own. Some kind of bond to hold me.”
The pain of my childhood memories is sharp in my chest, but not as sharp as the broken bond. It was supposed to be my lifeline after a childhood of not belonging, instead of the near-constant ache and pain it is. Inhaling slowly, I put a hand over my heart, right where it hurts, splaying my fingers. Kieran’s gaze follows the movement, and I see a flash of guilt in his eyes.
“Aurora…” He licks his lips. “I just want you to know…”
I wait for him to finish his sentence. And wait and wait, but he seems to struggle to find the words. Finally, he turns away, and I do the same.
The pain of his silence mingles with the pull in my blood, making me restless. Getting up, I pace to the edge of the clearing, staring out into the forest, away from Kieran’s guilty eyes. In thegrowing darkness, I can just make out crumbling walls in the distance.
My heart skips a beat. I recognize those ruins from my dreams—the ones that have been haunting me more and more frequently as we’ve gotten closer to Pack Onyx lands. Without thinking, I step toward them.
“Aurora, wait, we should—” Kieran’s voice floats after me from far away, but the closer I get to the ruins the less it seems to matter.
