Rejected by Blood

Chapter 4: The Ones Who Stay

“It’s not always the battles we fight that define us. Sometimes it’s the hands that reach for ours after the war.” —Isla Black

The wind whispered through the trees that surrounded the cabin, brushing against the porch like a familiar ghost. I stood there a long while, sipping warm cinnamon tea, letting the quietness settle the storm that churned inside me.

Behind me, Keri moved through the living room, folding blankets and fluffing the cushions for the third time that evening. It was how she coped—by caring, fixing, smoothing out the world wherever she could. And I let her. I needed her quiet magic.

“Still can’t sleep?” she asked gently.

“Did I even try?” I gave her a tired smile, and she returned one, softer, like she understood more than I said aloud.

Flashback: The Merry-Go-Round Rescue

Age 6 – A Sunny Playground Afternoon

I remember the sting before the scrape—Sierra’s shove was cruel and deliberate, sending me spinning off the merry-go-round. My knees hit the wood chips, and tears welled up fast.

Laughter echoed around me.

Then: “Hey! Leave her alone, Sierra!”

Keri appeared like a storm in a sunhat, marching up with fire in her tiny fists.

“That’s not cool,” she snapped.

Sierra scoffed but backed off. Keri didn’t wait. She crouched beside me, pulling a sparkly unicorn Band-Aid from her pocket and pressing it gently to my knee.

“This will make it better.”

It did. Somehow.

“Best friends forever?” she asked, her voice quiet but sure.

“Best friends forever,” I whispered, blinking away tears.

The memory lingered as we sat on the porch again, older now but still bound by something unbreakable.

Keri leaned against the railing beside me, her dark curls tumbling freely, the moonlight catching the quiet strength in her eyes.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “it’s weird. It feels like we never left this... space. Even after everything.”

“I know,” I whispered. “It’s the only place that ever felt like home.”

Footsteps crunched on the gravel below.

Liam.

Liam’s POV

The Moment He Sees Keri Again

I didn’t expect anything tonight—just to check on Axel, maybe grab a drink with him, maybe offer Isla some help with repairs.

But when I saw her…

The world stopped spinning for half a second. Keri stood on the porch, her eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight, tea cradled in her hands like it was sacred.

And something inside me shifted.

No, snapped into place.

My wolf stirred in a way he hadn’t since the night I lost my mate.

She’s ours, he whispered.

I blinked. Tried to breathe. It couldn’t be. Not again. Not her.

But it was.

She turned—and our eyes met.

Fate hadn’t just brought me back from the brink. It had led me straight to her.

We didn’t talk about it at first. We just sat—me, Keri, and Isla—around the fire. The scent of pine and ash filled the air as flames danced like old spirits.

“I haven’t talked about my past much,” I admitted, stirring the fire with a stick.

“You don’t have to,” Keri said, her voice like balm. “Not unless you want to.”

But I did. For the first time, I wanted to.

I told them about the rogue ambush. About the pain. The guilt. The years I wandered, numb and aimless. The way I thought I’d never feel whole again.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Keri said, her hand brushing mine.

She didn’t pull away. Neither did I.

And something in me, something jagged and long buried, began to heal.

Later that night

Keri and I rummaged through the pantry while Isla paced in the background.

“Who keeps expired saltines?” Keri muttered, holding up a box.

“Uncle Jeremy,” Isla said with a sad smile. “He said they built character.”

Keri laughed and glanced toward the living room where Liam had retreated, brooding in silence.

“He’s... different,” she said, almost to herself.

“Different good?” I teased.

Keri hesitated. “Different everything. I felt it, Isla. Like something clicked.”

Isla looked at her, then at me. “You know... maybe this place doesn’t just hold ghosts.”

Maybe it held beginnings too.

Keri wrapped her arm around my shoulder as we stepped outside. The stars were brighter here, like they were rooting for us.

“You’re stronger than you think,” she whispered. “And we’re here for you. Me and Liam—we stay.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to.

Because this—this was what hope felt like.

Some people leave. Some betray. But some stay—through the fire, through the silence, through the storm. And it’s those people, the ones who don’t run, who become your home.

—Isla’s Journal Entry, Day 5 at the Cabin

POV Shift — Sierra

Somewhere Deep in Blue Moon Territory

The forest swallowed the moonlight, just the way she liked it.

Sierra stood at the edge of the Blackthorn Clearing, arms folded, eyes narrowed. A group of lower-ranking wolves circled her, loyal only through fear and desperation. Just the way she liked them.

“She’s getting too comfortable,” Sierra sneered. “Laughing. Bonding. Rebuilding.”

“She hasn’t shifted in weeks,” one muttered. “Maybe she’s weaker now.”

“No,” Sierra snapped. “She’s hiding something. Just like Uncle Jeremy did.”

At the sound of his name, the others quieted. Sierra’s gaze burned through them.

“She thinks she can come back and act like she belongs,” she hissed. “But she doesn’t.”

A pause.

“We remind her. We remind all of them what happens when you cross a Black.”

As the moon slipped behind the clouds, Sierra’s eyes glinted red in the dark.

The war hadn’t even begun.