*POV: Nyla*
Damon's words echoed in my mind, twisting and turning with every breath I took. Hate what I find? What could be worse than feeling like a stranger in my own skin?
That night, sleep eluded me. Instead, memories flooded back—snippets of my childhood, moments I'd buried deep.
I remembered the lullabies my mother sang, her voice soft and warm, yet always tinged with warning. How she would clasp my hand tightly and whisper, "Nyla, there are secrets in our blood you must never ignore."
Secrets.
I had shrugged them off, thinking they were just stories.
But now… everything felt different.
At dawn, I pulled out an old wooden box hidden beneath my bed. Inside were faded photographs, a silver locket, and a folded letter in delicate handwriting.
Hands trembling, I unfolded the letter:
*"My dear Nyla, you carry the legacy of our ancestors — a gift and a curse. One day, the truth will call you home. Trust only those who protect you with their lives."*
My heart raced. The letter was from my mother, but there was no signature.
I knew then the puzzle pieces were falling into place.
Before I could digest it all, the cottage door creaked open.
Damon stepped inside, eyes heavy but resolute.
"I found something," I said, holding the letter out.
He studied it silently. Then, for the first time, his mask cracked, revealing raw concern.
"The legacy you carry… it's ancient. More powerful than you realize."
He paced, voice low. "Our pack's enemies will stop at nothing to find you, Nyla. They fear what your bloodline represents."
I swallowed hard.
"Tell me everything," I demanded.
Damon nodded.
---
The sun climbed higher, but shadows loomed larger.
Our fight was only beginning.
---