LOGAN: Alliance of Shadows, Book 2

Where Isolation Ends

As I focused on my drawing, I chewed my lower lip, my thoughts swirling. I didn’t know who he was, but I felt an inexplicable connection to him—a bond that defied logic yet tugged at something deep within me. The sketch had consumed me for weeks, long before Kaden came to take us back to the pack lands. I’d been seeing visions of him for as long as I could remember. In each one, he told me the same thing: I was more powerful than I realized, and I needed to live. His words lingered in my mind, a haunting blend of encouragement and warning.

The last time I dreamt of him was the same afternoon Paul had pounced on me to wake me up. The memory was still sharp, his face vivid in my thoughts. He looked strikingly like me, but older—more mature, with a presence that was impossible to ignore. When I asked Madre about him, her brows furrowed in confusion before she admitted she didn’t know who he was, either. She suggested he might be a long-forgotten relative, though even she didn’t seem convinced by her own words.

It had been two weeks since I last explored the pack lands with my new friends. Toby had gone home with his family to the Starlight Witch Coven, and Gavin, along with the older kids, had returned to school in town. That left me with the youngest members of the pack—the kids under eight—as my only company. Days felt quieter now, though the energetic presence of the little ones kept things from growing too still.

We were homeschooled, a fact that had once filled me with pride but now left me feeling isolated.

Paul came by every day, and we spent time with his younger brother, Jacob, and his little sisters, Wynter and Heaven. Along with them, there was a pair of twins named Devon and Samuel, as well as the blonde-haired girl, Ember, whom I’d met in the packhouse.

I liked Ember.

She could speak fluent French, which I found endlessly amusing. Every time Jacob was around, Ember would switch to French, rattling off comments about him that made him squirm. It drove him crazy because he couldn’t understand a word of it, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his frustration.

There were other kids around, but they kept their distance. Their parents didn’t like Madre and me—we weren’t like them. Madre was a Mexican Red Wolf, and I was going to be the same. That difference set us apart, and I could feel it in the sharp looks and hushed whispers that followed us wherever we went, piercing through even the moments when I tried to ignore them.

One day, I gathered the courage to talk to Beta Colton about it. He stepped in without hesitation, and the ugly whispers stopped soon after, though the harsh, judgmental stares remained. Some parents went so far as to warn their children to stay away from me, but the kids I had already befriended didn’t seem to care about any of that. Their loyalty stood firm, and it gave me a sense of stability I hadn’t realized I needed.

We had only been living on the pack lands for a few weeks, including the days when I was still unconscious, but in that short time, I had managed to form meaningful friendships. That sense of connection was something entirely new to me, and I cherished it. After years of loneliness, I finally knew what camaraderie felt like, and I was certain of one thing: I wouldn’t trade my new friends for anything.

Kaden’s random visits had dwindled once he knew Mami and I were settled in, and I had other children to play with.

I sighed as I tucked my sketchbook away and decided to take a quick nap. The comfort of sleep stayed with me until a group of people arrived, their excited voices banging on my bedroom door. They were the reason the house had been filled with so much laughter recently.

Papa had gone into town to search for a job, leaving us unsure of when he might return. His absence created a lingering uncertainty, but Madre worked hard to make life feel normal for me. She always let me have my friends over as often as I wanted, and I was welcomed into their homes, too. Being surrounded by so much warmth and companionship was a relief—a stark contrast to the loneliness I had known.

Except for Maria. She was still on bed rest and couldn’t join us. Every time I thought of her absence, a pang of sadness struck me. A sternness that seemed to calm the younger kids was missing, and without it, there was a certain restlessness in our group. The creak of my bedroom door pulled me from these thoughts, and I didn’t bother glancing up, even as high-pitched squeals of excitement filled the air and spilled into the room.

I loved having company. It had been such a long time since my life had felt so alive, and I was deeply grateful for the laughter and chaos my friends brought. Yet, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I’d grown accustomed to being alone. The constant activity and noise were still jarring at times, and the adjustment was one I couldn’t make all at once. That tug-of-war inside me left me feeling both exhilarated and unsettled.

With a resigned smile tugging at my lips, I slipped off the bed, already bracing myself for the inevitable chaos awaiting me on the other side of the door. Despite the occasional annoyance, I knew I wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.

“Colour books?” Heaven asked hopefully from the bed, where Wynter, Devon, and Samuel lay curled up, fast asleep.

I nodded, offering her a small smile before turning my attention to the puzzle I was arranging on the floor. Its large, easy-to-handle pieces were perfect for little hands. Jake’s eyes lit up with excitement as he slid off the bed, landing on the floor with a soft thud. He sprawled out on his belly, his focus entirely on fitting the pieces together.

Meanwhile, Ember toddled over, her mischievous grin lighting up her face. Though only two years old, there was a sharpness to her that caught everyone off guard. Her sparkling green eyes seemed to gleam with curiosity and determination as I pulled out crayons and a small stack of coloring books. I knew she’d dive into them with the kind of intense focus that surprised even the older kids.

Thanks to Gavin, my room had started to feel less bare. He’d given me some posters he couldn’t fit on his own walls, which now brightened mine. Jackson and Quartz had chipped in as well, rummaging through their belongings to find board games, books, and even stuffed animals to pass along. They’d joked that their “generosity” was purely a reward for me keeping their younger siblings entertained and, more importantly, out of their way.

Madre had hesitated at first, her fear making her reluctant to accept the gifts. It wasn’t until she spoke with Aunt Liz that she finally agreed. Aunt Liz reassured her that it was okay to accept kindness from others, and even suggested she frame the toys as pack acceptance gifts from the children I’d befriended. Her practical advice, along with her insistence, helped soothe Madre’s worries.

Aunt Liz’s determination to ensure I felt welcomed and cared for spoke volumes about the pack’s willingness to embrace us. The small touches—a poster here, a stuffed toy there—transformed my room and made it feel more like home.

“Paulie, look.” I laughed as Paul stiffened at the mention of the nickname his sisters had given him. He tried to conceal his discomfort, forcing a tight smile as he turned to Heaven, who sat cross-legged on the carpet with eager anticipation.

She beamed at him, her toothy grin full of pride. “Is it pwetty?” she asked, her excitement overflowing.

I couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. Gently, I took the drawing from her outstretched hand. As was typical for a two-year-old, she eagerly asked me to write down everyone’s name on the paper, her small voice bright with determination.

“When’s your birthday?” Paul suddenly asked, breaking the rhythm of the moment with his casual but pointed question.

I raised my brows, caught off guard by the abrupt shift. “Why?” I asked, still holding Heaven’s drawing.

“Mom wanted to know so she could throw you a party,” he replied matter-of-factly, nudging his Monopoly piece across the board as though it was no big deal. “I let it slip that you’ve never had one before.”

“I don’t know, Paul. My dad would flip his lid,” I admitted in a hushed tone, the words spilling out before I could stop them. A chill ran through me as the thought of his reaction settled deep into my mind.

Paul sucked his lower lip into his mouth and groaned, his shoulders sinking as regret washed over him. “I didn’t think of that,” he muttered, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

I sighed softly, trying to think of a solution that would make both Madre and Aunt Liz happy while keeping my dad from exploding. There had to be something that worked, right?

“We can have a sleepover party,” Jake piped up, his small hand tugging on my shirt. His wide eyes shimmered with excitement. “We can, can’t we, Paul?”

I paused for a moment, mulling it over. Then I glanced toward Paul and asked, “Think we can pull it off?”

Paul nodded eagerly, his face lighting up with renewed energy. “Yeah, I bet that would make both our moms super happy.”

A grin spread across my face, the first genuine smile I’d felt in a while. “My birthday is September twenty-seventh,” I said, letting the information slip as a small flicker of hope took root.