THE BLACK ROSE

--- CHAPTER 1: THE BLACK ROSE Word Count Target: The black rose was the last thing I had left of him. I pressed the thorns into my palm until I felt the sting, because pain was better than remembering. Better than thinking about the boy who vanished after one night and left me with nothing but a broken heart and a secret he never knew about. It was 6:47 in the evening when I parked in front of the old house. The paint was peeling. The windows were dark. The porch light that used to stay on for me was dead. Four years. Four years since Ryder Wade kissed me like I was the only thing in the world and then disappeared before sunrise. I stepped out of the car with the rose clutched in my hand. The air smelled like pine and rain and ghosts. "This is it," I whispered to myself. "A full stop." The house looked smaller now. Or maybe I was bigger. Tired in a way eighteen-year-old me never was. I placed the rose on the doorstep. Red petals against gray wood. A funeral for the girl I used to be. A funeral for the love that died. I should have felt relief. I didn’t. Behind me, the woods moved. Not the wind. Not an animal. Something big. Something fast. Something watching. My spine went cold. I turned, heart hammering, but there was nothing. Just trees. Just shadows. Still, I got in the car and drove away fast. That night I couldn’t sleep. At 2:14 AM I stood by the kitchen window of my new little white house, the one I bought with three jobs and no help from anyone. Jackson was asleep down the hall. My four-year-old son with curly hair and Ryder’s eyes. Something moved in the trees again. Then it came. A wolf’s howl. Low. Angry. Familiar. I dropped the mug in my hand. It shattered. Because I knew that sound. I’d heard it before. The night Ryder left. I didn’t know yet that what lurked in the woods wasn’t just an animal. I didn’t know yet that the past had followed me here. --- The next morning I packed fast. New town. New start. For me and for Jackson. "Are we going on an adventure, Mommy?" Jackson asked, bouncing on his toes with his little backpack. "Yeah, baby. A new adventure." Three towns over. That’s all I needed. Far enough that Ryder Wade could never find us. Far enough that I could forget. Except forgetting wasn’t that easy when you had his face staring back at you from your son’s eyes every single day. We were halfway through unpacking when I went to the grocery store. Jackson in the cart. Cereal. Milk. Bread. Normal things. And then I turned the corner in aisle 7 and froze. Ryder. Same blond hair. Same jaw. Same tall frame in a white shirt. My heart stopped. My lungs stopped. Four years of grief hit me all at once. And then the man frowned at me. "Sorry," he said, voice deeper than Ryder’s. "You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m Callen. Callen Harris." Callen. Not Ryder. But God, the same face. "Jackson, don’t—" I started, but it was too late. Jackson had already slipped out of the cart. He walked right up to Callen and looked up at him with those big blue eyes. "Hi," he said. "You look like my daddy." Callen’s whole expression changed. Surprise. Something soft. Something he tried to hide. "I don’t have kids, buddy," Callen said, crouching down. "But you’ve got a cool backpack. Dinosaurs?" "Rex," Jackson said proudly. "He’s my favorite." Callen smiled. That crooked smile. The one Ryder used to give me when he thought I wasn’t looking. "Will you come play with me again?" Jackson asked suddenly. "Jax," I said sharply, grabbing his hand. "We do not talk to strangers." "It’s okay," Callen said quickly, standing up. His eyes flicked to me, then away. "I don’t mind." I minded. I minded a lot. Especially with that face. Strangers. That’s what we were. But the way Callen looked at Jackson wasn’t the way adults usually looked at children. It was recognition. Like he’d seen him before. Like he knew him. "You two new in town?" Callen asked. "Yesterday," I said. "Then you’re gonna need friends," he said. "There’s a park two blocks down. Good for kids. Less... grocery store chaos." He walked away before I could answer. Jackson tugged my hand. "Can we go, Mommy? Please?" I should have said no. I should have driven away and never looked back. But the way Callen had looked at my son... It wasn’t dangerous. It was something else. Something that scared me more. --- That night I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About Callen’s face. About the way Jackson had run to him. Meanwhile, across town, Callen walked into a house that looked like a palace. Marble floors. Chandeliers. A fire burning even though it was September. "A human woman moved into town," Callen said. "Her son isn’t normal. He’s one of us." The man by the fireplace didn’t look up. Ryder Wade. Alpha. Cold. "Shifter pup?" Ryder’s voice was ice. "Yeah. About 4." Callen hesitated. "He looks like... us." That’s when Ryder looked up. Blue eyes. Hard. "Who’s the father?" "Don’t know," Callen said. "The kid said his father was missing." Ryder’s knuckles went white around the glass in his hand. "I’ll kill the bastard who abandoned a shifter pup," he said through clenched teeth. He had no idea he was talking about himself. --- Back at my house I sat on the floor outside Jackson’s room and listened to him breathe. Four years. Four years of doing this alone. I placed my hand over my chest. It still hurt. Not because I loved Ryder anymore. But because I remembered the girl who did. And now there was Callen. With Ryder’s face. And Jackson had already decided he liked him. I didn’t know what terrified me more: That Callen was a stranger. Or that he didn’t feel like one. --- END OF CHAPTER 1 ---