Chapter 278
I woke up the next day with the knowing that my birthday had arrived.
How could I forget?
My birthday coincided with the day the goddess’s handiwork was remembered and appreciated, and also the day that had heralded my bullying episodes in the pack.
It was supposed to be a day of light, of gratitude, of celebration. Instead, it was a scar. My scar. It was the day, on my sixteenth birthday, that I had been marked an outcast in the pack—a less than an outcast, worse than an omega.
The thought landed in my chest with the weight of a stone, and I inhaled sharply, feeling the despondent mood swarming me like a dark tide. I dragged myself from the bed and padded over to the window.
The sky outside was still ink-dark, a faint bruise of gray suggesting dawn’s approach. My eyes found the clock across the room. Just four a.m. The world would soon awaken, but for now, everything was suspended in this liminal quiet.
My gaze softened when it fell on Diana. She was still asleep, looking peaceful, her hair spilling around her face in wild curls, her lips puckered into a little pout.
What was she dreaming about? Something sweet, no doubt. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ~net
With a sigh, I turned away and wandered toward the reading space. My body felt restless, my soul heavier than usual. Today was a reminder of all my bad years, all my scars, all the moments that had been etched into me like burns I couldn’t scrub away.
But don’t I have something to be thankful for? my mind whispered as I sank into the chair.
Yes.
I didn’t die after the beating I had endured months ago. I had been found and tended to by a loving family. I had magic now, power that I had never dreamed I could wield. I could protect myself and those I loved. I was no longer a nobody.
I had Diana—a sister who was mine, who loved me—not like Lilian, who had taken every opportunity to make my life miserable growing up. I was recognized by the Lycan King himself, respected in ways many in the pack couldn’t even dream of.
Yes. I should be grateful.
I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It felt like unclenching a fist that had been tight for years.
My hand reached out blindly and plucked a book from the shelf. But when I opened it, I frowned. No name. No title. Nothing even on the first page. I flipped further. Blank. Blank. Blank.
Of course. It wasn’t a book at all—it was a notebook. A vessel for thoughts.
A dry laugh escaped me. Was this the goddess’s first joke at my eighteenth year?
I slid the book back into its space with a hiss. What was the point of jotting down thoughts when the book wasn’t mine to keep? What would happen to my words after I was gone?
The urge to read abandoned me. With another sigh, I pushed myself back to bed and sat on the edge, staring into the dark. Maybe I would go back to sleep.
But then, there was a knock.
I froze. My brows furrowed. My hand hovered over Diana, ready to shake her awake if the sound came again. But it didn’t. Silence reigned once more, heavy and still, as though I’d imagined it.
Had I?
Folding my lips, I glanced at Diana again. She was deep in sleep, oblivious. Slowly, I rose, padded to the wardrobe, and tugged out a coat. I lingered at the door, waiting. A second knock never came.
Cursing the unknown, I pulled on the coat, set my jaw, and opened the door. My heart pounded as I looked both ways down the hallway. Empty.
But then there was a scent.
My nostrils flared. Familiar. Musky. Warm. Adam.
I exhaled sharply, my mind whirling. What was he doing here at this hour? Why was he awake? Did he want something from me? Did he come to confront me about last night?
No—that didn’t fit. The last time we had spoken, I had asked him to stay away from me. He wouldn’t be at my door now just to air grievances. Something else was the matter.
I glanced back at Diana one last time, then shut the door softly behind me. She deserved her beauty sleep. I, on the other hand, would follow this scent wherever it led.
The trail drew me down long, echoing hallways, until I found myself at a crossroads. The scent seemed to tug in two directions at once, confusing me. My lips pressed into a line as I realized where I stood—the royal family’s wing.
If the King resided in the heights of the palace, then this floor belonged to his sons.
My eyes wandered over the paintings on the walls, elegant strokes depicting battles, hunts, moments of glory. I lingered only a second before stiffening.
There was a presence behind me.
The scent sharpened, assaulting my senses.
Adam.
I turned slowly, every nerve on edge, and found him standing there in the dim light, tall, broad, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. His eyes locked onto mine.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was low, husky, carrying something unreadable.
I arched a brow, folding my arms. “Poking around, I guess. I heard a knock on my door and got curious. Was it you p>
For a heartbeat, I expected him to deny it, but instead he shrugged. “Yes. Couldn’t sleep. Decided to walk until I was tired enough to collapse. Then I heard your movements and followed. I suppose you were following my scent p>
I didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, I tilted my head. “Why couldn’t you sleep? The vampires scaring you that much p>
A chuckle slipped from him—deep, husky, and infuriatingly masculine. It vibrated through the hallway, did something traitorous to my mood, lifting it in spite of myself.
I narrowed my eyes. Then realized, belatedly, that he was bare-chested. Only a pair of pajama bottoms hung low on his hips. Heat rushed to my face, and I cursed silently.
“As you know,” he said casually, as if my thoughts weren’t running wild, “we are warm-blooded. Generate body heat easily p>
“Of course,” I muttered, pressing a palm to my forehead before I could remember my mantra—stoicism, distance, control. I turned sharply toward the wall. “Well, find something to wear p>
His lips quirked. “Why? Do you want to keep me company p>
I pivoted back to him, scowling. “If you make it worthwhile. I can’t sleep either p>
His smile deepened, the kind that made you think he’d won something. He gestured for me to follow.
Against better judgment, I did.
He led me to one of the rooms, and when he pushed the door open, my breath caught.
The room screamed Adam. Rich, indulgent, yet meticulously arranged.
The walls were draped in dark blue tapestries edged with black, the colors merging into a harmony that was both commanding and strangely soothing.
A massive bed dominated the space, its sheets black silk, pillows stacked in neat abundance. A wall-length shelf held books, blades, and strange artifacts, some glowing faintly with enchantment.
A desk sat by the window, immaculate, a single quill and inkwell placed precisely at its center. Everything about the space told me one thing: Adam Brekan lived in power, in control, and in excess.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” His hands swept out in mock grandeur, his lips tugged into that half-smile that both irritated and fascinated me. “What do you think p>
I smirked. “That you’re spoiled p>
His laugh cracked through the room. “I don’t think we’ll ever be friends who exchange kind words p>
“Adam Brekan,” I said dryly, “we’re not even friends at all. This night is a one-time event. In four days, I’ll be gone p>
He laughed again, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah. Please, have a seat p>
He gestured toward the bed. I gave him a disgusted look, which only made him laugh harder, before I sank into the armchair instead.
“I’m glad I’m making your night interesting,” he teased.
I ignored him, though my eyes betrayed me when he pulled a shirt from the wardrobe and slipped it over his head. Muscles rippled as he moved, his body taut and sculpted, a testament to his lineage. My traitorous eyes lingered too long on the dip of his waist.
I looked away sharply. Temptation, begone.
“Am I decent now?” His voice was light, amused.
I nodded curtly.
“Good. Then let’s go for a walk p>
My eyes narrowed. “Won’t it be morning before we get back? I don’t want anyone seeing me with you p>
“You would rather stay in my room p>
“Of course not.” My voice was sharp. “I’m saying it’s reckless to be strolling around at this hour p>
“Lower your voice, Dora,” he said calmly, but his tone carried an edge of command. “My brothers’ hearing is sharp. Hopefully, they’re still asleep p>
He studied me then, his gaze sweeping over me like he was searching for something hidden beneath my skin.
I flipped him the middle finger.
He sighed, amused, and looked out the window. “Do you want to read a story, then p>
I cocked a brow. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Just tell me things. Like—why can’t you sleep? Or better, what are your father’s actual plans to tackle the vampire menace, apart from the barrier I’m supposed to construct p>
He bit his lip, sighed, then dropped onto the sofa, beside me.
Too close. Far too close. He had an entire bed, and he chose this? My pulse skipped.
“Surely you know I can’t tell you pack secrets p>
“I didn’t know it was one p>
He frowned, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve. Then he shook his head. “All the same, I can’t tell you about plans. Not that there are many. But as for why I can’t sleep His voice trailed off into silence, weighted and heavy.
Finally, he said, “It’s about the girl I told you about. The one who stole my heart. The one who disappeared. Do you remember p>
Remember? My throat tightened. How could I not? I was the girl.
“So?” I said coolly. “What about her? Is today her death anniversary p>
His reaction was instant. His face twisted, fury flickering across his features. His chest rose sharply as though he’d been struck. “Don’t say it like that. She means a lot to me p>
I blinked, then nodded slowly, fighting to keep my mask in place. “I see. So what is today for you p>
He exhaled, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Her birthday p>