Skye’s POV
Over the following days, I threw myself into pack activities with renewed dedication, determined to prove Ethan wrong about Oasisborn’s value–perhaps more to myself than to him.
I trained harder with Nadia, volunteered extra houts at the orphanage, and even asked Marcus to teach me basic security protocols.
1 saw little of Adrian during this time. Since establishing appropriate boundaries that night outside the orphanage, our interactions had been limited to formal pack meetings or brief encounters in public spaces. He maintained a polite distance that I told myself was exactly what I wanted–what we both needed to avoid complications.
After all, his interest had been purely professional, guided by his responsibilities as Alpha.
Still, each night as I lay in my hotel bed, alone with my thoughts, I couldn’t help remembering the intensity in his amber eyes when he’d asked if I was deliberately avoiding him. The way his ocean scent had wrapped around me like a physical caress. The heat of his bare skin that night in his bathroom, water droplets tracing paths I longed to follow with my fingertips.
These thoughts served no purpose beyond tormenting me, yet I couldn’t seem to banish them. Some nights, I sought refuge in grueling shift practice, racing through the desert in wolf form until exhaustion overcame desire.
Other evenings, I visited Lydia’s laboratory, absorbing her knowledge of herbs and poisons to occupy my mind. Her calm presence and matter–of–fact instruction provided the perfect distraction from my emotional turmoil.
On one such night, I noticed an unusual object sitting on a shelf behind her workstation–a polished stone disk etched with strange symbols, suspended
from a delicate silver chain.
“What’s that?” I asked, gesturing toward it as she carefully measured dried wolfsbane into a mortar.
Lydia glanced over her shoulder, her eyes crinkling above her mask in what I now recognized as a smile. “A scrying pendant,” she replied, setting down her tools and retrieving the disk. “From my mother’s side–the witch bloodline.”
She held it up, letting it catch the lamplight. The symbols seemed to shift and dance as the disk rotated slowly.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, leaning closer to examine it.
‘It’s useful,” she corrected, matter–of–factly. “For those with the gift, it can reveal glimpses of what might be.” Her knowing eyes studied me over her mask. “I could use it for you, if you wish. To see what lies ahead in your heart’s journey.”
“What exactly would it show?” I asked, curious but cautious.
She nodded. “Perhaps you want to know about a Second Chance mate? Whether your path will cross with someone meant for you?”
“No,” I said softly, shaking my head. “I don’t think I want to know. My mate rejected me, and the man I…” I trailed off, unable to complete the thought aloud. “I don’t believe the Moon Goddess has written a happy love story for me.”
Lydia made no comment, simply returning the pendant to its shelf. There was no judgment in her silence, just acceptance of my decision.
As I watched her carefully place the pendant back, a sudden thought struck me. If the future truly could be predicted, had Lydia ever foreseen her own tragic fate? Had she known what would happen with the former Luna’s husband? Had anything inappropriate actually occurred between them, as the rumors suggested? Did she lie awake at night, filled with regret or resentment over what had happened?
Of course, these were questions I would never dare to ask. It wasn’t my place to pry into such painful history. Perhaps I was simply a pessimist, but I couldn’t help feeling that fate was something beyond our control.
“Let’s continue with the antidotes,” I suggested, eager to change the subject and escape my own intrusive thoughts. “You mentioned a treatment for Nordic wolfsbane that-‘
I never finished my sentence. A sudden pressure in my mind interrupted my thoughts—the unmistakable sensation of a mind–link forming.
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Chapter 38
Council members, Adrian’s voice echoed in my head, clear and commanding. Emergency meeting in the central chamber immediately.
Lydia and I exchanged glances, the serious tone of his mental summons evident to us both.
“Something’s happened,‘ she said simply, already moving to secure her workstation.
I nodded, a thread of apprehension weaving through me as we hurried toward the council chambers, the pendant and my romantic troubles temporarily forgotten in the face of what could only be pack business–and likely trouble..
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