Chapter 20
2460 Words
Chapter Twenty – A Place Called Home
Carter’s P.O.V.
The forest seemed endless.
Towering pines swallowed the first light of dawn, their branches weaving together until only ribbons of sunlight reached the earth below.
Charlie never slowed.
Even with blood soaking through the sleeve of her dress, she kept moving.
“We’re almost there,” she whispered.
“You’ve said that three times.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“And this time I mean it.”
I shifted my mother higher in my arms.
Selene hadn’t woken since Charlie had given her the calming draught.
She slept with her head resting against my shoulder, breathing softly.
Every now and then she’d whisper something I couldn’t understand.
Sometimes she’d smile.
Other times she’d flinch.
Each time she did, my heart broke a little more.
The trees finally opened.
Nestled inside a wide valley sat a small village unlike anything I’d ever seen.
Stone cottages with moss-covered roofs.
Gardens overflowing with herbs and wildflowers.
Children chasing each other barefoot through the grass.
Women hanging bundles of lavender from wooden porches.
Smoke curled lazily from chimneys.
It smelled…
Warm.
Fresh bread.
Rosemary.
Rain.
Home.
Charlie’s shoulders finally relaxed.
“We made it.”
Before we reached the first cottage, the front door burst open.
A woman with dark curls streaked with silver hurried down the steps.
She took one look at Charlie’s shoulder and gasped.
“Charlie Ashbourne!”
She planted both hands on her hips.
“I leave you alone for three days—”
Her eyes landed on me.
Then my mother.
Then back to Charlie.
“…and you bring home company.”
Charlie smiled weakly.
“Good morning, Miriam.”
Miriam didn’t answer.
She wrapped Charlie in a careful hug before inspecting the wound.
“I swear you’re determined to make me gray.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
“I think that ship sailed years ago.”
Miriam snorted.
“It absolutely did.”
Another voice called from inside.
“Who’s yelling this early?”
A broad-shouldered man ducked through the doorway.
He stopped the moment he saw us.
His gaze lingered on Charlie’s injury.
Then on my mother’s pale face.
Finally…
On me.
He didn’t ask questions.
He simply pointed toward the house.
“Inside.”
Charlie smiled.
“My oldest brother.”
“Rowan.”
Rowan folded his arms.
“You can introduce everyone later.”
He looked directly at me.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve been worse.”
“So have I.”
He stepped aside.
“Inside.”
There wasn’t a trace of fear in his voice.
No hesitation.
No curiosity about what I was.
Just concern.
I followed.
The cottage was warm enough to melt months of cold from my bones.
The scent of fresh bread nearly made my knees buckle.
A younger man looked up from the kitchen table where he was carving wood.
He blinked once.
Then twice.
“Charlie…”
He looked at me.
“…is that the hybrid everybody keeps whispering about?”
Charlie sighed.
“Elias.”
“What?”
He grinned.
“I’ve been curious.”
He walked over, extending his hand.
“I’m Elias.”
I looked at it.
Then shook it.
“Carter.”
Elias nodded.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“I expected more horns.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He shrugged.
“People tell some wild stories.”
Against my better judgment…
I laughed.
It hurt.
But I laughed.
Elias pointed triumphantly.
“There he is.”
Charlie smiled.
“I was wondering if he’d forgotten how.”
Before I could answer, another young woman appeared carrying an armful of books nearly taller than she was.
She froze in the doorway.
“Oh.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“Oh.”
Charlie immediately pointed at her.
“Ivy.”
The young woman sighed dramatically.
“I wasn’t going to dissect him.”
“I hadn’t said anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was thinking about asking questions.”
Charlie folded her arms.
“You can ask exactly three.”
“Five.”
“Three.”
“Four?”
Charlie smiled.
“Three.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
This family argued the way normal people argued.
Not with anger.
With affection.
It felt…
Strange.
In the best possible way.
Miriam set a steaming bowl in front of me.
“Eat.”
“I’m not—”
She gave me a look.
“I wasn’t asking.”
The smell alone made my stomach growl.
She smiled knowingly.
“That’s what I thought.”
By the time I finished the second bowl, Rowan had finished cleaning Charlie’s shoulder.
“It’s deep.”
Charlie shrugged.
“I’ve had worse.”
“You’ll still keep your arm.”
“Generous of you.”
Rowan rolled his eyes.
“It’ll scar.”
Charlie smiled.
“I’ve already got plenty.”
He looked at me next.
“Your turn.”
“I’m fine.”
“No.”
He gently pressed two fingers against my ribs.
Pain exploded through my side.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“You’re exhausted.”
“I know.”
“Malnourished.”
“I know.”
“And running almost entirely on stubbornness.”
Charlie smiled into her tea.
“I told him that.”
Rowan looked at me.
“You’re twenty.”
I blinked.
“How’d you know?”
“The way you ignore good advice.”
Even I had to laugh.
For the first time in six months…
It felt good.
Selene went to ground as morning was quickly approached Charlie stayed with her planning to use her magic to put pieces of her memory back together
The smell of fresh cinnamon rolls woke me before the sun did.
For one confused second, I forgot where I was.
There were no stone walls.
No chains.
No silver restraints bolted into the floor.
No footsteps echoing outside a prison door.
Just the crackling of a fireplace.
Birds singing outside an open window.
And someone arguing downstairs.
“I said four eggs.”
“I made six.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to count.”
“I know exactly how to count.”
“You burned two.”
“They were crispy.”
“They were charcoal.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
The sound of siblings arguing over breakfast felt…
Normal.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed normal.
By the time I made it downstairs, Miriam had already placed an enormous plate in front of me.
Pancakes.
Eggs.
Thick slices of bacon.
Fresh fruit.
Warm cinnamon rolls.
I stared at it.
“Miriam…”
She looked up from the stove.
“What?”
“I can’t eat all this.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You absolutely can.”
Elias grinned from across the table.
“We’ve been taking bets.”
“On what?”
“Whether you pass out before finishing breakfast.”
Rowan looked up from his coffee.
“My money’s on the pancakes.”
I laughed.
“I hate all of you.”
“You don’t even know us yet,” Elias said proudly.
“Give us another day.”
The laughter came easier this morning.
Not forced.
Real.
As breakfast stretched into another hour, the conversation wandered from farming to fishing, from the coven’s yearly festivals to childhood stories that left Charlie burying her face in her hands.
“You climbed onto the roof with a broom,” Miriam reminded her.
“I was eight.”
“You told everyone you were going to fly.”
Charlie groaned.
“I almost did.”
“You fell into Father’s pumpkin patch.”
“I landed.”
“You bounced.”
Even Rowan smiled into his coffee.
When breakfast finally ended, Elias clapped me on the shoulder.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“We’re taking you on the grand tour.”
“I didn’t know there was one.”
“There isn’t.”
He winked.
“We’re making one.”
The village wasn’t large.
Maybe forty cottages tucked between towering pines and wildflower meadows.
Everyone waved as we passed.
Children chased one another through the streets carrying carved wooden swords.
An elderly woman sat outside knitting while humming softly to herself.
A blacksmith hammered horseshoes beside a stream.
No one looked at me with fear.
Some looked curious.
Most simply smiled.
It was… strange.
In DeL Sol I was the hybrid.
In Navarro’s mountain I was the experiment.
Here…
I was simply Charlie’s guest.
Rowan noticed me looking around.
“They’re trying very hard not to stare.”
“They’re failing.”
“They’re doing much better than Elias would’ve.”
Elias gasped dramatically.
“I would’ve stared with respect.”
“You would’ve asked a hundred questions.”
“I still might.”
We stopped beside a wooden bridge overlooking a clear stream.
Fish darted beneath the water.
For a while…
No one spoke.
Rowan finally broke the silence.
“You know why Charlie leaves so often?”
I nodded.
“She works.”
Elias snorted.
“That’s one word for it.”
I looked between them.
“You don’t approve.”
“It’s not that.”
Rowan leaned against the railing.
“Our coven has everything we need.”
He gestured toward the village.
“Food.”
“Safety.”
“Family.”
“No one here goes hungry.”
“No one here is alone.”
Elias skipped a pebble across the water.
“But Charlie…”
He smiled sadly.
“…has always believed someone else needed her.”
Rowan nodded.
“Ever since we were children.”
“If she found an injured bird…”
“She’d stay with it until it flew.”
“If someone got lost…”
“She’d be the first one searching.”
“If strangers needed help…”
“She’d leave before sunrise.”
I smiled to myself.
“That sounds like Charlie.”
“It is.”
Rowan sighed.
“The problem is…”
“She doesn’t know when to stop carrying other people’s burdens.”
Elias folded his arms.
“She keeps taking jobs for people she’d never invite into this village.”
“Werewolves.”
“Vampires.”
“Mercenaries.”
“Kings.”
“Anyone with enough coin.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
Both brothers were quiet.
Finally Rowan answered.
“We’ve asked her that for years.”
“And?”
He smiled faintly.
“She always says she’s chasing something.”
“What?”
“We don’t know.”
Elias looked out over the stream.
“Maybe she doesn’t either.”
Silence settled between us.
I thought about Charlie.
About the laboratory.
About the way she’d risked everything to save complete strangers.
“No.”
I said quietly.
They both looked at me.
“I think I know.”
“What?”
I smiled.
“She isn’t chasing something.”
I looked back toward the cottage where my mother was finally sleeping safely.
“She’s trying to become the person she wishes someone had been for everyone else.”
Neither brother spoke.
After a long moment…
Rowan smiled.
“You know…”
He pushed away from the railing.
“…I think you’re the first person outside this family who’s ever understood our sister.”
Elias laughed.
“Great.”
He threw an arm around my shoulders.
“Now she’s your problem too.”
For the first time in what felt like forever…
I wasn’t thinking about prophecies.
Or Councils.
Or Navarro.
I was just a twenty-year-old man walking through a peaceful village…
Laughing with friends I hadn’t known existed yesterday.
It felt almost dangerous…
How quickly a place could begin to feel like home.
⸻
Night began to settle quietly over the valley.
The coven was alive beneath the stars.
Lanterns glowed from every porch.
Someone played a violin somewhere in the distance.
Children laughed.
No one here knew me as an experiment.
No one called me a monster.
They simply called me…
Carter.
A soft voice interrupted my thoughts.
“…little wolf?”
I turned.
Selene stood in the doorway.
She looked stronger.
Not healed.
But present.
Present in a way she hadn’t been beneath the mountain.
She stared at me for a long time.
Then I slowly crossed the yard I sat with her inside of the cabin.
She spoke first “I dreamt of you.”
I smiled gently.
“I know.”
She reached up and touched my face.
“I kept seeing a little boy.”
She laughed softly through tears.
“I don’t know where he went.”
“I think he got taller.”
She smiled.
“He did.”
A silence settled between us.
Not awkward.
Comfortable.
She took my hand.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
Her face crumpled.
“Twenty birthdays.”
Her voice broke.
“I missed twenty birthdays.”
I knelt beside her chair.
“You missed them.”
I squeezed her hand.
“But you’ll be here for the next one.”
She pulled me into her arms.
This time…
Neither of us cried alone.
Footsteps approached.
Charlie.
Her smile was gone.
Rowan stood behind her.
So did Elias.
Something was wrong.
“My scouts have sent word.”
The warmth around the fire vanished.
Charlie looked directly at me.
“Navarro has left DeL Sol.”
I was already standing.
“Then we’re leaving.”
“No.”
“I have to get to Anna.”
Charlie stepped between me and the gate.
“No.”
“Carter—listen to me Anna is not in any immediate danger”!
“I’ve listened long enough my mate needs me.”
“So does your mother.”I looked toward Selene.
She was watching us with frightened eyes.
Charlie took another step closer.”You’ve spent six months being drained, studied, and tortured.”She pointed toward the bandages wrapped around my ribs.”You’re still healing.”
Then toward Selene.”She has decades of trauma to survive.”
Finally…
She looked me straight in the eye.
“Running home…”
Her voice softened.
“…isn’t the same thing as making it home.”
Silence.
Rowan rested one steady hand on my shoulder.
“A wounded wolf doesn’t return to protect his pack.”
He squeezed gently.
“heals first.”
I looked up at the stars.
Somewhere beyond those mountains…
Anna was carrying our child.
Every instinct told me to run to her.
Every instinct told me not to wait another second.
But for the first time in my life…
I wasn’t alone anymore.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
That would make all the difference.
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