14. Mira - Everything is Changing
1176 Words
I woke up with Silas in my mind. The messages were fun until the last message. The night was… eventful. That single word pressed into my chest like a bruise.
Eventful didn’t mean paperwork or patrol logistics. It didn’t mean meetings that ran long. In Silas’s world, eventful meant blood, broken bodies, secrets clawing their way to the surface—ancient things refusing to stay buried.
I lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, and the warmth I’d carried to bed the night before slowly cooled into something heavier.
The meeting rushed back into me all at once.
Lucien.
LNG.
The journal.
The experiments.
And Silas—standing there, composed and controlled, telling a story that had clearly torn through him once and never fully healed.
I pressed my phone to my chest. I felt so sorry for him. Not the pity kind of sorry. Not the kind that weakens. The kind that aches because you finally understand how lonely someone has been for far too long.
Silas had spent centuries carrying guilt that wasn’t his. Loving a brother he never got to know. Mourning a man who had wanted nothing more than to claim both his sons openly—and had paid for it with his life.
And Lucien…
My stomach twisted.
Lucien had been hurt before he ever learned how to choose differently. Broken by people who told him love was conditional. That power could fix abandonment. That becoming something else would finally make him worthy. Unfortunately, I knew that pain. Not in the same way—but enough to recognize it.
Two boys, I thought bitterly. Both sons of the same king. Both victims of secrets.
One had been protected. The other had been sacrificed.
And now Silas was left standing in the wreckage, forced to hunt for the echo of someone who had once been family and he wanted to know and love this person. It's just heartbreaking.
Chandra stirred inside me, quiet for once “He carries grief like a crown” she said softly. “Heavy and Lonely.”
“I know,” I whispered.
I typed out a dozen replies to Silas—Are you okay? Did anyone get hurt? Please be careful—and delete them all. All I want to do is to hug him tightly and tell him that he is not alone anymore. I will stand with him in every situation, no matter what.
Instead, I sent only one thing. I’m thinking of you.
The packhouse felt different in the morning. It was quieter and taut. Wolves moved with purpose instead of ease. The forest beyond the windows seemed to be holding its breath. I was halfway through my coffee when DanPa appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, already dressed, already carrying the weight of leadership like armor.
“Mira,” he said gently. “Walk with me.”
My chest tightened.
We stepped into his office—the same space where he’d taught me to read maps, where he’d helped me with school projects, where he’d once sat on the floor beside me when nightmares refused to let go and I ran to him in middle of his work.
He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, studying me. “You heard everything last night,” he said.
I nodded.
“And you understand what it means?”
“Yes,” I said honestly. “More than I wish I did.”
He sighed. “We may have to implement a temporary curfew.”
My heart dropped. “For the pack?” I asked.
“For all wolves,” he confirmed. “Until we understand the pattern. Until we know whether these attacks are targeted… or bait.”
I swallowed. “But, for how long?”
“I don’t know.”
The word echoed in my head. Curfews meant fear. Fear meant whispers. Whispers meant unrest.
“And the humans?” I asked quietly.
“We’ll say it’s a wildlife risk. Storm damage. The usual lies.”
I hated that we had to lie. I hated it even more that I understood why.
“What if someone doesn’t listen?” I asked. “What if a young wolf decides rules don’t apply to them?”
DanPa’s jaw tightened. “Then we do what we’ve always done. We protect them—even from themselves.”
I paced once, then stopped. I stepped forward and hugged him, burying my face in his shoulder like I had when I was little.
“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” I whispered.
“Neither do I,” he said, resting his chin briefly on my head. “Which is why I need you to be steady, observant, and home before dark. I just cannot risk you, Mira.”
I pulled back, nodding. “I know, but I also can't lose you DanPa. I Love You.”
As I entered my studio, my phone vibrated. It was a message.
I’m okay, Silas wrote. Already Tired. Angry and Focused.
Then another.
Your message helped more than you know, My Mogra. Your existence just helps.
Warmth bloomed in my chest—fragile, but real. I typed back.
You don’t have to carry this alone anymore. I am here, Silas, and I will be here as long as you have me.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
I know, he finally replied. That’s what scares me. I just can not handle you getting hurt.
I stared at the screen for a long moment, heart heavy and full all at once, because I understood exactly what he meant. Letting someone in didn’t just mean sharing warmth. It meant sharing the coming storm.
I got another message from Silas 5min out. Be ready, my Mogra.
Kiara noticed before I even opened my mouth.
She leaned against the counter of Moonspell Ink, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with barely restrained mischief. “So,” she said sweetly, “are you always this distracted, or is today special?”
I glanced up from wiping down my station. “I’m not distracted.”
“You just tried to sterilize the same needle twice,” she replied promptly. “And you smiled at your phone like it personally paid your rent.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You’re imagining things.”
Kiara grinned. “Uh-huh. Is this the mysterious him?”
I sighed, defeated. “Maybe.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. You’re blushing. That’s it, I quit. I refuse to be apprenticed under someone who’s clearly living a romance novel.”
I laughed at myself. “Finish the stencil prep and stop narrating my life.”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Just saying—whatever you’re doing? Keep doing it. You look… happy.”
That simple word settled warm in my chest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told her. “I’m stepping out early.”
Kiara waved me off dramatically. “Go. Be mysterious. Be in love. I’ll hold the fort.”
- Writer
