Page 144 of The Moonborn's Curse

A solid thud, followed by a bark of pain and a scattering of glass from outside.

"And you're banned." Griff bellowed before letting the door swing shut behind him.

He dusted his massive paws off, turned back to the bar, and growled, "Get back to your drinks."

And with that, he disappeared back into his office, the heavy door thudding shut behind him.

Seren blinked, her pulse rabbiting in her throat.

Ravaryn turned, tossing her a glance. "You really need to learn to hit back."

But when Seren didn't respond, didn't quip, didn't thank her—Ryn's posture shifted. Just slightly.

Softer. Awkward.

She cleared her throat. "You, okay?"

Seren just nodded.

It wasn't much.

But it was the closest thing to kindness Ryn had ever shown.

Even if she still called her useless three times during the rest of the shift.

Chapter 53

Hagan

It had been six months.

One hundred and eighty-one days since Seren vanished beyond the borders of Vargrheim. Since the bond had frayed into silence. Since the world lost colour.

And still, Hagan waited.

The days blurred into training and strategy. Garrik, ever-grim, ran drills till their bodies collapsed on the dirty training ground. Veyr matched him blow for blow, but he was no match. Dain... Dain showed up, quiet and dangerous, the look in his eye always one second from snapping.

Together, they ran the tribe's defences tighter than ever. Patrols sharpened. Borders sealed. Though there were no further incidents, there was this uneasy feeling within the tribe that something was coming. Every potential threat was mapped and marked. But the fire that had once burned in Hagan was now only embers—hot, but dim.

He went back to the cottage every night. Their cottage.

He imagined the bed still smelled like her—though the essence of her had long since faded. Still, he refused to sleep anywhere else. He refused to clear her side of the wardrobe. Sometimes, he left food on the table out of habit. Sometimes, he found himself whispering things aloud as if she were just in the next room.

He sent messages to her mobile, voice notes in the dead of night. Just in case. Just in case she turned it on again.

The trackers had spread out into the human world now. Quiet whispers through cities. Shifters embedded among the crowds, passing on rumours. Still, nothing.

The trackers returned again.

Empty-handed.

They always did.

No sign.

No whispers of a girl who walked with the magic of the forest at her fingertips.

No hint of silver eyes that shimmered like starlight.

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