Jane felt a cold presence curl around her shoulder before she even looked up. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was a ghost. They were everywhere—at street corners, in reflections, through the crack of a door—always lingering just out of the corner of her eye. She had been the only one who could see them her whole life.
At the orphanage, the adults called it a game when she pointed them out, then grew tired of it. Eventually they decided something was wrong with her. That was probably why no one ever adopted her. It was hard to hold down a job, too, when a headless specter screamed for help while you tried to walk its dog.
She felt sorry for them, the ghosts. They were lonely, just like her. What she never expected was to be jealous of one. She never expected to fall in love with a man still married to a ghost.
November 1989
No taxi driver in the station wanted to take her to Hawthorne Hall. The first one said the place was cursed. The second said the woods were haunted. The third didn’t look legal, so she didn’t ask.
Jane checked her pack and started walking. Her last living relative worked at Hawthorne Hall, and she’d saved up everything she had for a long time to track him down. No haunted forest was going to stop her from finding family. It was a three-hour walk, but her pack was light, and the weather hadn’t turned yet.
The wind was cold, but there was no snow. The trail got muddier the deeper she went. Every step squelched, the ground clinging to her boots as if the earth itself wanted to hold her back. The sun sank lower, casting long dim streaks of orange through the canopy, but even that glow felt distant and cold, as if daylight couldn’t penetrate these woods.
Branches twisted around her like skeletal arms, and the mist made it impossible to avoid them. By the time darkness settled, she knew she’d have to camp. She found a clearing, built a small fire, and ate a half sandwich, saving the rest for later. Tomorrow she’d reach Hawthorne Hall.
Waiting at the front would be Uncle Bill, his arms open wide, happy to see her. She’d never met him, but in her mind his eyes were kind. He never answered her letters, but he was her only family. This time would be different.
This time she would be allowed to stay. A rustling sound came from the bushes. Jane froze, her sandwich halfway to her lips. Two gleaming eyes appeared in the shadows.
The creature stepped into the firelight, and Jane let out a deep sigh of relief. It was a wolf pup, small and alert. She ignored it at first, but it kept watching her. Then, without warning, it grabbed her pack and dragged it away between its fangs.
“Hey! ” Jane scrambled to her feet and chased it, stumbling through the mud. “There’s nothing left to eat in there! ”
It was too dark to orient herself, but the sound of her bag dragging along the ground guided her.
She had bonded with stray dogs at the animal shelter once—her longest job, six months. She’d given the pup half her sandwich, then spilled out her life story while looking away, hoping it would trust her. It seemed to work. The pup led her through the mist, past a tall iron gate that emerged from the fog, and toward a flickering light.
A massive mansion rose just beyond the gate, dark and crumbling. The pup stopped at a small cabin near the forest edge and dropped her pack at the door. Rain began falling in heavy droplets. The door creaked open, and a thick, broad man filled the doorway.
“The heck are you? ” he asked, stepping toward her. He saw the wolf, and his jaw clenched. “Did he bite you?
”
“No, he—”
“Save it,” the man growled, cutting her off. He turned back to her, and something shifted in his stance. “You better come inside. ”
“I’m looking for someone,” Jane hesitated.
“A distant relative. I was told he lives—”
“I’m Bill,” the man snapped. “Come on in. ”
He looked at the wolf.
“You as well. ”
Inside, the warmth of a burning fire washed over her. Bill made hot cocoa. “How did you know who I was?
” she asked, letting her shoulders relax. “You look like your mother,” Bill said, keeping his eyes on the milk. “I’d only met her once or twice, but I remember her. ”
She wanted to ask about her mother, but instead she blurted out, “You never answered my letters.
”
He set three cups of cocoa on the tray, and his voice turned contemplative. “I should have answered,” he said. “I’m sorry. ”
Then, with a firm edge: “But you can’t stay here, Jane.
”
“I wasn’t—I wouldn’t expect you to host me for free,” she hurried. “I could work. I could help you. ”
Bill’s gaze slid to the wolf.
“My Alpha will not allow it. ”
Jane blinked. “Your what? ”
Bill ignored her question.
“Drink up,” he said, urging her cocoa into her hands. As Jane drank, she grew drowsy. Bill told the wolf to go to his room, and the animal obeyed. Jane tried to ask again how he knew the wolf, but her eyelids were too heavy.
She sank into a soft quilt on the chair, hearing a thumping at the door before she fell into a deep sleep. —
Reese walked swiftly across the grounds, rain pouring down. If he didn’t hurry, he’d lose all traces of Marcus’s scent. Beside him, a wolf pup—Sophie—growled with unhappiness at the downpour.
“I told you to stay inside,” Reese snapped. They arrived at Bill’s cabin. Reese knocked once, loud enough to make a statement. Bill opened the door, his eyes widening.
“Alpha. ”
“Is he here? ”
“Yes, but—” Bill waved a hand at Sophie. “Kid, hold up, you’re dripping all over my floor.
”
Sophie ignored him and rushed inside. Reese followed her into the dim living room. Marcus was wrapped in a quilt too large for him, his bare feet sticking out. He avoided Reese’s eyes, instead ruffling Sophie’s fur with a forced grin.
“Where were you? ” Reese asked, his voice quiet but firm. Marcus shrugged, pulling the quilt tighter. He was barely eight years old, and already acting like a rebellious teenager.
Before Reese could push further, Marcus turned to Bill, his voice edged with accusation. “What did you give her? ”
Bill grunted, guilt in his tone. “Well, I couldn’t let her see you shift back, could I, boy?
”
Reese frowned. “Her? ”
He walked toward a large armchair facing the fire. There, buried beneath a quilt, was a young woman, fast asleep.
Her light brown hair clung to her face in damp strands. “What is this? ” Reese growled, pointing at the human. “She’s a relative of mine,” Bill said quickly.
“She wrote to me a few times. She has nowhere to go. ”
“Get rid of her. ” Reese’s irritation laced his words.
He wouldn’t have a human near his children. Marcus could have encountered her in his wolf form. A shifter’s bite almost always killed humans. Bill’s face paled.
“The snow, Alpha—”
“I want her gone by morning,” Reese barked, lifting Sophie and Marcus into his arms and carrying them away. —
The light was high in the sky when Jane woke. Her mouth was dry, and she didn’t know where she was. Bill sat at the dining table, drumming his fingers.
“Coffee? ” He poured her a cup before she could reply. “I made you eggs, too. ”
She was given the biggest breakfast she’d ever had: eggs, bacon, and a literal pile of bread.
“You’ll need your strength if you want to get to the bus stop on time,” Bill said. “It’s going to snow today. You’ll need to leave right after you eat. ”
Jane understood.
She was outstaying her welcome. She put a smile on her face and nodded. “I’m sorry,” Bill said, his eyes cast down. “I wish I—”
“It’s fine,” Jane interrupted with a shrug.
“You don’t have to explain. ”
Bill shuffled uncomfortably. “These lands belong to my, um, my master. It’s not up to me.
”
Jane peeked through the window. The mist had cleared, and for the first time she could see the mansion fully. It was tall and imposing, its dark gray stones weathered. One wing, on the western side, looked particularly neglected.
Parts of the stone were scorched and crumbling, as if the structure was barely holding itself together. “Is this where your master lives? ” she asked, her gaze lingering on the damaged section. “Yes.
”
“Was there a fire? ”
Bill shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “Yes. A terrible accident.
”
“What happened? ”
“No one here likes to talk about that cursed day. ”
Jane pulled her gaze back to the mansion. It looked like it was trying to hold itself in place, clinging to something long lost.
—
Not even an hour later, she said her goodbyes, her pack full of extra food. Bill had told her to follow the iron gates and find the bus stop east, but only three buses ran per day, and they wouldn’t run once the snow started falling. She walked along the gates, following her uncle’s instructions, when she noticed something: a little boy, sitting on the ground, staring into the horizon. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, with golden blonde hair falling in loose curls around his face.
Something about him seemed familiar, though Jane was certain she’d never seen him. Then she realized, despite the freezing wind, the kid wasn’t wearing any clothes. “Oh my God. ” She removed her coat and rushed forward.
“Kid, are you okay? ”
The boy tensed as she got closer, sending her a quick glance before averting his eyes. He looked like he wanted to flee, but he seemed frozen in place. Jane gently placed her coat around his shoulders, rubbing his arms to warm him.
She noticed a large burn mark on his right arm. Healed, but unmistakably severe. “You’ll freeze out here. ” She looked around for help.
“Where are your parents? ”
The boy shrugged. Then, reluctantly, he raised his arm and pointed. Jane followed his gesture and saw the mansion—specifically, the burnt West Wing, its blackened stone still visible against the darkening sky.
She arrived at the heavy door and tried knocking. No reply. Worried about the boy’s bare feet, she pushed it open. A vast entrance hall greeted her, elegant in a cold, detached way.
High ceilings loomed above, intricate woodwork and stone columns supporting the space. But there was no warmth. No life. The air was stifling in its silence, unnatural and biting.
“Is anyone here? ” she called out. A booming voice answered, making her jump. “What are you doing here?
”
Jane spun. A man was descending the stairs—no, a force. Tall, his powerful frame filling the space as if he owned every inch of it. His face was sharp, handsome in an almost cruel way, and his piercing eyes blazed with barely restrained anger.
Close behind him, a woman in black, her face inclined oddly to the right. “I asked you a question,” the man repeated. Jane opened her mouth to answer, but her throat closed. The woman’s white, bony fingers rested on the man’s shoulder, as if trying to gain his attention.
Her lips were stretched into a wide, unnatural grin, fixed and stagnant, like it didn’t belong on her face at all. The cold pressed deeper. Jane realized with sudden, sickening clarity that the woman wasn’t really there. She was dead.
No one else could tell she was even present. —
Reese watched as the human girl stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the space just over his shoulder. She’d been with Marcus, standing beside him, and for a moment a possessive surge had risen in his chest. Then the whisper curled around his ear.
Don’t let her near our children. She’ll take them. Don’t let her take them away. His jaw clenched.
Over his dead body. “What are you doing here? ” he barked. The young woman startled, her dark eyes snapping toward him.
She was small, delicate-looking. His wolf stirred, but the pounding in his head was relentless. When she stayed silent, her cheeks flushing, he repeated his question, his voice more controlled but still hard. “I—I found him outside,” she stuttered, pointing at Marcus.
“He was naked. I thought—”
Reese’s gaze flicked to Marcus, relieved that the boy was unharmed. The whisper returned, harsher now. She’ll take him away.
Don’t let her take our son. “Thank you for bringing him back,” Reese said curtly. “But you need to leave. ”
The girl hesitated.
“I don’t think it’s safe for him to be wandering outside, especially undressed as he was. ”
Her words grated on his nerves, striking deeper than they should. “Is he your son, I think not,” he snarled. “I said leave.
”
The girl flinched, her fists clenching at her sides. But she didn’t look at him. Her wide, teary eyes remained fixed on something over his shoulder. “Sir,” she tried, her voice shaky.
“Leave! ”
The girl fled, disappearing into the cold mist outside. Reese watched her go, the cold clinging to him, lingering long after she was out of sight. —
Jane’s feet pounded against the muddy earth.
Fear coiled in her stomach, twisting like a living thing. The ghost’s stiff, sickening grin, its bony fingers clinging to that man’s shoulder—she had never seen a ghost so clearly, never for so long. And the way it had whispered to him… Marcus.
That little boy had been outside naked in the cold. Was that the ghost’s doing? Could it harm him? She couldn’t just leave him.
She needed to get help. The bus. If she made it to the bus stop, she could go to town, call the police, social services, someone. As the edge of the forest cleared, she saw the bus ahead—but it was already pulling away, too far to reach.
Jane stumbled to a stop, panting. The snow stung her eyes. It was only then she realized she’d left her coat with Marcus. She shuddered as the cold seeped into her skin, but she pushed forward.
She had to find help. Someone would have to believe her. No one ever believed her ghost stories. But she couldn’t live with herself if she let that happen.
—
The cold stopped feeling sharp. It dulled, fading into a distant hum at the edge of her awareness. Her skin, which should have been stinging from the icy wind, began to feel warm. Jane blinked, slowing her steps.
The warmth spread, crawling up her arms and legs, radiating from her chest. It felt wrong but pleasant, like slipping into a bath that’s too hot after being out in the cold too long. Her vision blurred. The snow beneath her boots felt inviting.
Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the cold ground, feeling cradled by it. Her arms and legs moved sluggishly, carving faint lines in the snow. A soft euphoria washed over her, and she giggled faintly, the sound lost in the wind.
Through the blur of snow, she saw eyes. Piercing, beautiful, familiar eyes, hovering just beyond the storm, watching her. Then she felt strong arms pull her up, wrapping her in warmth. She sank into the feeling, safe and secure, just before everything went black.
—
Reese forced his way through the snow, locked on the faint scent trail. He should never have let the human walk off into the storm. Humans were delicate. Fragile.
Bill had come to him in a panic, pleading for him to go after her, claiming she’d never make it to the bus in time. Marcus had been there too, his scent sharp with fear—just like it had been that day. Images of the fire burst behind Reese’s mind. He’d sworn he’d never let Marcus be scared again.
He had sworn he’d never let anyone get hurt in his stead again. A sound cut through the wind. A giggle. Euphoric, delirious.
His gut twisted, and he sprinted forward. She was sprawled on the ground, half buried in snow, her skin pale, her lips blue. She was only wearing a t-shirt; her sweater was discarded several feet behind her. “Jane.
”
He dropped to his knees, scooping her up into his arms. Her skin was like ice. He wrapped her in his coat, but it barely helped. Her heartbeat was faint, and it was fading.
The mansion was too far. She wouldn’t survive the trip back. There was only one option left: the old hunting cabin, the one he and Cliff used to play in. Long abandoned, but closer.
It was her best chance. —
Jane drifted in and out of consciousness. Everything felt slow, her mind floating somewhere between a dream and the sound of a crackling fire. The warmth around her felt lovely, so much so it was impossible to move or even think.
When her eyes fluttered open, she saw a wolf. Golden eyes, staring back at her, gleaming softly in the firelight. Its nose was cold and damp against hers. She tensed for a split second.
Then the wolf was gone, replaced by a striking man with strong, masculine features, his face bathed in the warm glow of the fire. “It’s okay,” he told her. “You’re safe. ”
His arms were wrapped securely around her, his warmth seeping into her skin.
Jane’s body relaxed, sinking deeper into his embrace. “Don’t be alarmed,” he added, his voice low and soothing. Why would she be alarmed? She felt cherished, cradled in this man’s arms.
His large hand brushed softly against her cheek, fingers trailing through her hair. She grew even drowsier. “You’re beautiful,” she mumbled, her words slurred and barely audible. “This is the best dream I’ve ever had.
”
She never wanted to wake up. —
When Jane stirred again, she felt more grounded. She was in a large, rustic room with high wooden ceilings and thick beams crossing overhead, buried beneath a pile of heavy quilts. She took in the scent of burning wood.
Where am I? The last thing she remembered was the snow, the cold, and then the warmth. The man. A sound caught her attention—light giggles, almost like whispers.
She looked around, and at the end of the bed, just barely visible over the edge, she saw two tiny blonde heads peeking out from under the covers. “Shut up, Sophie,” a small voice mumbled. “You’ll wake her. ”
The giggles stopped abruptly.
“Do you think she’ll be mad? ” a smaller, feminine voice asked. “Probably not,” the boy replied. “But the Alpha will.
”
“Maybe when she wakes up, she can bake us cookies,” the girl said, sounding hopeful. Jane smiled, amused. “I do have a great recipe,” she chimed in, sitting up. Silence.
Then two small faces with round, surprised eyes emerged. She recognized the boy as Marcus. The girl was younger, with long blonde curls. “You’re awake,” Marcus said almost accusingly.
“Cookies! ” his sister exclaimed. Jane greeted them with a smile. Marcus stepped in front of Sophie protectively, his small face twisting into a scowl.
“You’re not to tell anybody we were here,” he commanded. Jane found it adorable, how he squared his shoulders and set his jaw like an adult. “Cross my heart,” she swore solemnly. Marcus blinked, surprised.
Then his eyes went wide, and he stilled. He held a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be quiet. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered. Marcus dragged Sophie from the end of the bed and dove behind it.
Just in time, the door opened. Uncle Bill’s expression melted into relief the moment he saw her. “Jane,” he breathed. “Thank God you’re awake.
”
Marcus popped his head up. “Oh, it’s just Bill,” he muttered, making Sophie grunt in annoyance. “I could have told you that,” she said, crossing her arms. “I can smell him from miles away.
”
Bill winced and cleared his throat. “All right, out you two. Your father wants to see you. ”
After the children left, Bill came and sat beside her bed.
“How are you feeling? ”
“I feel fine, I think. ” Jane looked around. “Where am I?
”
Bill sighed. “You’re at my master’s house. Up at the mansion. ” He paused, remorse flickering in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Jane. I shouldn’t have told you to leave when I knew the storm was coming. ”
“It’s not your fault. ”
“You almost died,” Bill said, his voice tight.
“You would have, if my master hadn’t found you in the snow. ”
Jane frowned. That same man who’d cast her out with anger in his eyes had gone after her. She remembered the warmth, a presence by her side.
It all felt foggy, like a distant dream. “Was your master angry? ” she asked, biting her lip. Bill shook his head.
“If anything, he felt sorry for putting you in danger. He’s not unkind, you know. Just a bit gruff. ”
Jane thought of the sound of his deep rumbling voice against her ear, promising to keep her safe.
She felt herself flush. “Just a dream,” she told herself. “Nothing more to it. ”
She gasped, cheeks flushed.
“If you could just give me my clothes, I’ll be on my way. ”
“You can’t leave, Jane,” Bill said. “We’re snowed in. ”
“Snowed in?
”
“The storm got worse. The roads are blocked. It could be days before it clears enough to leave. A couple weeks, at most.
” He nodded. “But don’t worry. It’s all been arranged with the boss. He’s agreed to it.
”
Weeks. Jane sank back into the pillows, her mind racing. —
Reese could still smell the girl on him. He had taken three showers, used only cold water to conserve their supply, and yet her sweet, floral scent clung stubbornly to his skin.
It was distinct and pleasant for a human. Most of them barely smelled like anything—just sweat and cosmetic products. But Jane… after she’d begun to grow warm, slowly coming back to life, he’d enjoyed her scent.
It made him feel soothed and at peace, strange when he could barely remember what peace felt like anymore. He paced the dining room as Miss Teal set the table. They would be stuck here a while, he thought, aggravated. Would the children behave around the human?
They were already confined indoors because of the snow. With Jane here, they wouldn’t even be able to shift. Reese settled into his seat at the far end of the table. His gaze drifted to a painting above the chimney—Eliza, her deep blue eyes kind and indulgent.
What would you have done? he asked her under his breath. Eliza had always been more patient than him, more joyful. As kids, when Reese was sulking in a corner, she’d take his hand and drag him back into the sun.
But there was no one left to drag him anywhere nowadays. No more sun, no more warmth. A cold gust wrapped around him. The windows were closed, but the weather outside was atrocious.
His fingers twitched against the table. “We could go for a swim,” he murmured to himself in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. It was a feminine voice, one he missed, coming from far away. “Just like old times.
”
I miss you, the voice said. Why do you insist on keeping us apart? Reese shifted in his seat, pain growing behind his eyes. Not again, he thought.
He’d like it to stop. I can make it better, the voice said, stronger now. Please come with me, my love. We could take the children.
“Not the children,” he snapped, making Miss Teal startle. She looked at him strangely. “Sir? ”
Reese grunted a reply, his eyes drifting back to the window.
“Not the children,” he repeated faintly. When he closed his eyes, he saw burning flames and heard Eliza’s screams. —
Dressed in a light black dress and thin leggings she’d found in a drawer, Jane descended the stairs, her heart racing. She was about to face the man who’d saved her, and her pulse quickened.
She scolded herself. He was already kind enough to let her stay. The least she could do was avoid embarrassing him with her stupid crush. It wasn’t even a crush.
It was nothing. As she neared the dining room, she heard the children talking, then a woman’s voice. “Ariel makes a wish to become human, we know, Sophie. We’ve seen the film.
”
Jane froze. The children’s mother. She hadn’t considered meeting the lady of the house. A sinking weight settled in her stomach.
Of course there would be a Mrs. Hawthorne. But when she stepped into the dining room and saw the woman sitting in the corner, Jane realized she was much older. She couldn’t be their mother.
Her gaze drifted to the man at the end of the table. He was here. He was even broader than she remembered, with sharp cheekbones and dark blonde hair curling just above his ear. He looked tired, tension visible in his shoulders.
“Mr. Hawthorne,” Bill greeted, inclining his head. “Jane is feeling better. ”
Mr.
Hawthorne didn’t even seem to hear. His attention was fixed on something outside. Then Jane saw it. Next to him, an arm half wrapped around his frame, was the ghost.
Long black hair covered most of its face, its neck bent at an odd angle. It wasn’t grinning anymore. When its eyes moved, angling toward Jane, it sneered. The ghost was touching Mr.
Hawthorne’s face, its lips moving in muted words Jane couldn’t hear. But she could see their effect. Mr. Hawthorne blinked, and his eyes met hers.
His face hardened. “What the hell are you wearing? ” he growled. Jane blinked in surprise.
His eyes roamed over her form, and she paled, realizing she should have asked before borrowing clothes. “I apologize sir, but my—”
He snapped out of his chair, body rigid, fists clenched. But that wasn’t what made Jane fall silent. It was the way the ghost was smirking—a mean smirk that rang false, paired with its vacant eyes.
It’s right there, she wanted to scream. But the words wouldn’t come. No one ever believed her about the ghosts. Mr.
Hawthorne wouldn’t either. “Take it off,” he barked, towering over her, so pale he could pass for a ghost himself. His eyes were blue and dark and full of pain. Behind them, everyone went quiet.
Sophie was whining, and Marcus looked like he wanted to speak but couldn’t. The ghost’s grin was still and wide, a gaping, horrid void. Jane met its gaze. “All right, I’ll take it off.
I get it. ”
She said this calmly, moving slowly to gauge the ghost’s reaction. It didn’t react. But when her dress fell to the ground, leaving her in only a bra and leggings, Mr.
Hawthorne did. He gaped, looking lost. Then he grabbed her wrists, as if worried she’d remove anything more. “I—” He blinked as if waking from a bad dream.
The ghost’s presence grew fainter. Its vacant stare fell on where Mr. Hawthorne’s fingers lingered. Instinctively, Jane grabbed the man’s hand and squeezed tight.
The ghost evaporated instantly. Mr. Hawthorne’s shoulders sagged. Color returned to his cheeks.
“Who are you? ”
“I’m Jane,” she replied, smiling tentatively. Relief flooded her veins, making her feel a little giddy. The ghost was gone.
“Jane,” he said, recollection dawning. He smiled back softly, and Jane’s breath caught. She’d seen this smile before, she thought. She’d seen it in her dreams.
—
Reese felt like he was surfacing from murky water, his senses gradually sharpening. His gaze landed on the small human, her wide dark eyes filled with curiosity and something else, shyness, uncertainty. His hands moved before he could fully process it, pulling off his sweater. “Here,” he said, thrusting it toward her.
A loud crash reverberated through the house, shaking the floor. Without thinking, Reese stormed out toward the source. He reached the condemned West Wing and skidded to a halt. Part of the roof—a tall tower that hadn’t been touched since the fire—had collapsed under the weight of the snow.
Wood, stone, and snow cascaded through the hole, scattering across the floor. Cold air rushed in, swirling with the faint scent of charred timber. The remnants of the old fire were still buried beneath the surface. Bill and Miss Teal arrived just behind him.
“If the roof collapses here,” Miss Teal muttered, “it could bring the rest of the house down with it. ”
“We need to fix this now,” Reese said, his voice rough. “It can’t wait. ”
“The house isn’t safe as long as that Wing stands,” Miss Teal said.
“When the blizzard clears, we should move the children. Could leaving—”
“We’re not leaving,” Reese cut her off. His gaze wandered over the destroyed section. He could still hear the roar of the flames, Marcus’s screams, Eliza’s pleas.
The heat, the acrid smoke—it all clung to his skin, along with the guilt. He couldn’t leave this place. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t leave Eliza behind again.
“We’ll fix it,” Reese repeated. “We have to keep this place standing. ”
“Alpha, the foundations are crumbling,” Bill said cautiously. “The house is holding on by threads.
Sometimes it’s better to let go. ”
Reese’s expression hardened. “We’re not letting it fall apart, not while I’m still standing. Get what we need.
We’ll start repairs immediately. ”
“I’ll help! ” Sophie’s voice piped up. Reese turned sharply, spotting the children.
The small human was with them, wearing his sweater. The material fell well past her knees but didn’t hide the way her hips flared. His wolf stirred, pleased. He forced himself to focus on Marcus, who looked a little pale, resentment in his eyes.
“Sophie,” Reese said, his voice gruff. “You and Marcus will stay where it’s safe. ”
“But Dad! ” Sophie protested, stomping her foot.
“We’re bored. We want to help. ”
Miss Teal spoke up again. “Alpha, I need to inspect the house quickly.
If more of the roof collapses, we’ll be in bigger trouble. ”
She was right. They couldn’t leave the children unattended. “If Miss Teal is busy inspecting the roof—” a soft voice began.
“Mr. Hawthorne,” Jane said, stammering slightly. “I could, I mean, I wouldn’t mind… I’m happy to watch them.
The kids. I’m good with kids. I’ve babysat before. ”
Reese’s wolf picked up on a subtle change in her scent.
It became sweet and thick, swirling around him distractingly. She watched him with wide eyes, her pulse fluttering tellingly. He averted his gaze. She was human.
A tiny, delicate human he could easily harm if he weren’t careful. “Can we bake cookies? ” Sophie chimed in. Even Marcus seemed interested now, the anger in his eyes evaporating as he turned toward Jane.
Reese weighed his options. Time was ticking. Jane’s offer solved their immediate problem. The children seemed to like her well enough, and she was stuck here anyway.
“Fine,” he snapped, more command than approval. “Jane will watch the children. ”
He gestured for Marcus to come closer, pulling him aside while waving Sophie and Jane out of the room. “Don’t shift in front of her,” Reese said quietly.
“No one shifts in front of her. ”
Marcus looked thoroughly unimpressed. “No. ”
“No swearing in this house,” Reese snapped back at his son’s offended expression.
He sighed, putting a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Look, Jane is human. Fragile. You know what would happen if one of us were to bite her.
”
Marcus’s expression turned solemn. “I know, Alpha. I’ll keep her safe. ”
Reese nodded, but the unease didn’t leave him as he watched Marcus follow Jane.
Her scent lingered in the air, and despite himself, his wolf stirred again. The sight of her in his sweater—small, curvy, with flushed cheeks and dark eyes—stayed with him longer than it should. —
The children, while looking very much alike, had widely different personalities. Sophie was bright and chirpy, unable to hold still, brimming with astounding energy.
She bounced from place to place, asking multiple questions and commenting on every little thought at an increasing pace. Marcus was taciturn, uninterested in anything, with a certain melancholy in his eyes. He didn’t like attention focused on him and tended to hide his burn-scarred arm behind his back. Jane tried to engage him, but while he seemed happy enough to stay nearby, he didn’t interact much.
He only spoke to shush Sophie or calm her down. She obeyed him remarkably well, though never for very long. Jane looked around, worried the ghost might be causing Marcus’s sullen mood, but it was nowhere to be seen. Could she have gotten rid of it for good?
That wasn’t usually how it worked. “Perhaps we should light a fire and get them to come inside,” she said, more to herself than to the children. Marcus tensed visibly. He must have remembered being burnt, Jane realized, saddened.
It must have been in this house, in the fire that destroyed the West Wing. “Why? ” Sophie asked, her eyes round and curious. “Why would we light a fire?
”
Jane paused. “Well, they might be cold outside on the roof. ”
Sophie stared in confusion. “Why would they be cold?
” She gave Marcus a curious look. He shrugged, seemingly just as confused. “Well, because—” Jane pursed her lips. “Never mind.
”
Sophie grabbed a cookie, shoving it into her mouth. “If I get cold, I turn,” she told Jane, as if the sentence made perfect sense. “Turn? Turn into what?
”
“Sophie! ” Marcus’s head snapped up. “Shut up. ”
Jane placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, seeing her tense at his harsh tone.
“It’s all right. ”
“I’ll tell Father you were mean,” Sophie taunted, sticking her tongue out. “Don’t call him that! ” Marcus snapped, crossing his arms.
“Kids,” Jane raised her hands in appeasement. “Yelling ruins the cookies. You wouldn’t want a cookie to be ruined, would you? ”
Both children widened their eyes, effectively chastised.
“What do you call Mr. Hawthorne? ” Jane asked Marcus by way of reference. “Alpha,” Marcus replied with a shrug, accepting the cookie Jane handed him.
That word again. Bill had mentioned it too. “That’s because he’s our Alpha and our father,” Sophie explained, catching Jane’s puzzled frown. Marcus growled, snapping up from his chair and running out of the room.
“Don’t worry about him,” Sophie said, though she looked a little saddened. “Dad says he’s sad because he misses Mom. ” She looked up at Jane. “I don’t remember her at all, so it’s okay that she’s gone.
”
An uncomfortable weight settled in Jane’s stomach. “I’m sorry, Sophie,” she said quietly. She left the little girl to watch the cookies and followed Marcus. He hadn’t gone far; he was crouched in a corner of the dining room.
“You know,” she tried, sitting beside him, “my mom is gone too. ”
Marcus shrugged, though he didn’t tell her off, which she took as a good sign. “Sometimes I worry I’m going to forget about her,” Jane told him softly. “It makes me feel sad.
”
Marcus blinked, raising his face toward her. “Really? ” he asked, his voice small. “Sure.
So I write about her in my journal, or I talk about her. That way the memories stay with me. ”
Marcus’s fists clenched. “I don’t know how to write,” he confessed.
“And the Alpha doesn’t like to talk about her. He says he doesn’t mind, but I know he does. ”
Jane marked her surprise. “If you’d like, I could help you learn to write.
And in the meantime, you can talk to me about your mom whenever you want. What was she like? ”
She placed a careful hand on his shoulder. Marcus didn’t reply.
Instead, he pointed at something behind her. A painting. A woman with long black hair and clear blue eyes. Jane’s heart stopped.
She knew where she’d seen that woman before. That woman—Marcus’s mother—was the ghost she’d seen hanging around Mr. Hawthorne. The ghost was his dead wife.
—
Reese collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion weighing him down. Three days of ceaseless work on the roof, battling the storm, and he was spent. Bill had been worried the small human would notice how quickly they’d worked. “She can’t know about us,” Bill had said.
As if Reese didn’t know that. He stared up at the ceiling, pain building behind his eyes. He should rest, but his thoughts scattered, always returning to the same source of unease: when would the tiny human be able to leave? He worried about the children becoming too attached.
Sophie had already taken a liking to her. Sophie was starved for affection, for joy, for light. Her bright, boisterous energy reminded him so much of Eliza. Like her mother, the child was strong, determined, and full of life.
It haunted him. And then there was Marcus, who was nothing like his sister, having taken from his father’s side of the family. The boy was distant, sullen, carrying a quiet melancholy that worried Reese more than he’d ever admit aloud. Marcus missed his mother.
He’d been four when she died. He never talked about it, certainly not to Reese. But perhaps to somebody else. Somebody warmer.
Passing through the drawing room yesterday, Reese had spotted the boy bent over a book, Jane by his side, patiently guiding him through words. It was the first time in a long while that Reese had seen Marcus engage in something other than honing his shifter skills. Maybe she could help Marcus open up before she left. Reese didn’t want the boy to grow up burdened with the weight of becoming Alpha, like he had.
He loved his children fiercely but felt out of his depth with them. They were a mirror of the woman he couldn’t save and a constant reminder that it was Reese who should have died that day. A familiar cold settled over his skin. Eliza’s loss was always there, a dull throb in the back of his mind.
But when it sharpened, as it did now, the room felt darker. Reese shifted in bed, but sleep continued to elude him. His thoughts grew heavier, more scattered. —
Jane watched as Sophie bounced around the kitchen, her energy infectious, as they prepared a tray piled high with breakfast leftovers.
Marcus, ever quiet, stood by her side, half-heartedly arranging food, his eyes distant. It didn’t sit well with Jane. None of this did. Yes, the children had everything they needed here.
The house was grand, the meals were plenty. But their mother was gone, and their father was always busy, always finding something to do to avoid his own children. “I think it’s sweet you’re making him breakfast,” Jane said softly. “It shows you’d like to spend more time with him.
”
“Do you think he’ll like our drawings? ”
Jane’s eyes fell on two artworks the kids had prepared, laid out on the table. Sophie’s was vibrant, full of color, rainbows and sunshine swirls in every corner. But Marcus’s caught her attention.
He’d drawn a deeply detailed portrait of Mr. Hawthorne—though he’d added a long scar on the left side of the man’s face. “Is your father a pirate? ” Jane asked, wanting to encourage his creative endeavors.
Marcus looked unimpressed. “That’s not my dad. That’s Uncle Cliff. ”
—
They carried the tray upstairs.
Marcus knocked on Mr. Hawthorne’s bedroom door. No answer. “Maybe he’s still asleep,” Sophie whispered loudly.
Marcus was already retreating, shrugging. “We should just leave it. ”
Memories flooded back to Jane—long, empty days at the orphanage, waiting for someone to care, someone to notice she existed. She wouldn’t let these children feel that way.
She adjusted the tray, took a breath, and before she could second-guess herself, barged into Mr. Hawthorne’s room. “Mr. Hawthorne?
” she called. He was sprawled across his bed, dressed in muddied, snow-soaked clothes. His eyes were wide, staring vacantly at the ceiling, his jaw clenched, his entire body rigid. By his side, grazing his left cheek, was his wife.
The ghost. Jane’s heart pounded. A sickening horror crept through her veins as the ghost’s bony fingers trailed over Mr. Hawthorne’s pale face.
“Dad? ” Sophie’s small voice called from behind her. Panic surged through Jane. Her gaze fell on the tray, and she grabbed the small salt shaker.
Without thinking, she stepped toward the bed, spun around, and threw the salt over her left shoulder toward the ghost. The effect was immediate. The ghost vanished. The air grew lighter, and Jane exhaled in relief.
—
Jane paced, biting her lip as she watched Reese with the children. He was laughing at something Sophie said. For the first time since she’d arrived, he seemed lighter, the usual grim weight absent—if only for now. She wished she could do more.
Watching him smile genuinely only made her need to help him more urgent. He looked so kind when he smiled, so young, not weighed down by the invisible chains of grief. His golden hair caught the sunlight, his broad shoulders and easy movements showing a different man than the one she’d seen sprawled across his bed, pale and broken. It was clear the ghost of his wife haunted him more than she appeared.
Even if he couldn’t see her, she was there, pulling him away, making him absent or angry. But right now, his deep chuckles were pulling a smile from Marcus, and Jane’s chest tightened with the need to protect this version of him. The kind, warm, happy version. But how?
She had never felt the weight of her gift so keenly. Maybe it wasn’t a curse after all. Maybe it was the one thing that could help Reese. If she had honed her skills, she might already have found a way to free him from his wife’s ghost.
Lost in thought, Jane didn’t notice Bill until he was beside her, his brows furrowed in concern. “Something on your mind? ” he asked. Jane blinked, startled.
“I wish I could do some research on… ” She trailed off. These people—her uncle, the others—they didn’t look at her like she was crazy. They thought she was normal, and she didn’t want to change that.
Bill stroked his chin. “The library here is vast. You might find something useful. ”
A library.
Jane hadn’t thought of that. Without wasting another moment, she thanked Bill and hurried off. The library was enormous, its shelves stretching floor to ceiling, filled with old, dusty books. Soft golden light from the windows cast a peaceful glow.
She scanned the shelves until a title caught her eye: Occult Practices and Spectral Beings. Her heart skipped as she pulled the leather-bound book free. In a quiet corner, she flipped through the yellowed pages. “Ghosts,” she read, “are spirits tied to the living by unresolved business, often attached to a place or a person.
To help a ghost move on, their old wounds must be healed. ”
Jane shuddered, thinking of the fire that had claimed Mrs. Hawthorne’s life. How could she possibly heal that?
She found a section on creating protective circles to keep ghosts at bay. Relief flooded her. She would draw one around Reese tonight, if she could. Jane walked to the large bay window, her eyes drifting to the snowy ground.
The snowfall was slowing down. Was the storm about to break? Across the field, beyond the white, icy flakes, three wolves roamed the edge of the woods. —
The night was quiet, save for the soft hum of the children’s voices as they played nearby.
Reese glanced at the window, noticing the snowstorm had finally begun to lose its intensity. “Should break by tomorrow,” he commented absently. At his words, Marcus grew rigid, his little shoulders tensing. Reese caught the movement, frowning.
“What’s wrong, Marcus? ”
The boy remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. Then Sophie burst into tears, wiping furiously at her eyes. “I don’t want Jane to leave!
” she choked out. Reese’s chest tightened. He hated seeing Sophie cry. Both kids had cried enough for a lifetime.
He knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand on her back. “Sophie, it can’t be helped. Jane doesn’t belong here. She’s a human.
”
“But she’s nice,” Sophie insisted between sobs. “She tells the best mermaid stories. ”
Reese glanced toward Marcus, who hadn’t said anything but was watching him carefully. He didn’t miss the hopeful look in his son’s eyes, the way Marcus’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Both kids had grown attached to her. “Look, Jane doesn’t want to stay here forever,” Reese tried again. “She has friends and family to get back to. ”
“She has no parents,” Marcus said quietly.
“She’s like us. She’s alone. ”
The words hit Reese harder than they should. He looked down at Marcus.
“No parents? Alone? ”
Bill, who had been quietly observing, added, “It’s true, Alpha. Jane grew up in an orphanage.
Her parents died when she was young. She’s been on her own ever since. ”
Reese’s thoughts drifted to Jane. He hadn’t given much thought to where she came from.
The idea of her being so utterly alone gnawed at him. Wolves lived in packs. Jane might not be a wolf, but his protective instincts flared to life. Maybe she could stay.
She could make a good nanny, someone to watch over the kids when he was preoccupied with pack matters. It would certainly take some of the burden off his shoulders. But then he remembered what she was. It was too dangerous for a human to live among them.
“She doesn’t belong here,” Reese said, his voice gruff. Bill nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging in resignation. He knew the dangers too. Humans, no matter how well-meaning, rarely thrived around shifters.
Reese’s world was a dangerous one. The risks were too great. —
The night was thick with silence, broken only by the faint creaks of the old manor settling. Jane lay in bed, her heart pounding as she listened for any sign of movement.
Finally, she slipped out of bed, her fingers trembling as she reached for the door handle. She descended the stairs, the darkness pressing in with each step. Something felt haunted, filled with secrets waiting in the walls. At the bottom, she half expected something to emerge; there was only stillness, cold, and the pounding of her own heart.
She wrapped her arms around herself and climbed back up. The sensation of being watched prickled at the back of her neck. Her hands shook as she reached Reese’s door. The storm would break tomorrow.
Reese would ask her to leave. This was her last chance to help him. She pushed the door open. It groaned softly, a sound like a warning, but she stepped inside.
Reese was lying in bed, his chest barely rising. Hovering above him was a gaunt face with blackened lips pressed against his. Jane’s first instinct was to flee, but Reese’s body was trembling, his skin deathly pale. She rushed forward.
“You’re hurting him! ” she hissed. The ghost’s dark, vacant eyes flickered toward her. Jane thought it was going to strike.
Then it vanished, melting into the shadows as if it had never been there. Reese’s body went limp. Jane fell to her knees beside him, shaking his shoulder. “Sir, wake up.
”
His skin was cold, his pulse faint beneath her touch. She remembered the book—the protective circle. Her hands fumbled for the chalk she’d stuffed in her pocket, and she hurriedly drew beneath the bed, following the instructions as best she could in her frantic state. When she finished, she rushed back to Reese, her palms settling against the faint beat of his heart.
When his eyelids finally fluttered open, she thought she was going to cry. “Jane? ” He looked at her through heavy, confused eyes. “You’re awake,” she breathed, holding back a relieved sob.
“What… what are you doing here? ”
Jane realized her hand was still resting on his bare chest and pulled back. She hadn’t thought about what she would tell him if he became aware of her presence in his bedroom at night.
“I just wanted to thank you,” she stammered, her cheeks heating under his confused gaze. Her eyes lingered on the broad expanse of his chest. Reese sat up slightly. “Thank me?
For what? ”
“For saving me. From the snow. ” Jane’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“No one’s ever done anything like that for me before. ”
Reese blinked, his eyes deep with confusion. “It was the least I could do. ”
“No,” she interrupted, emotion thick in her throat.
“No one’s ever looked out for me like that. I’ve always been on my own. But you saved me, sir. You owed me nothing, and yet you risked your life to save me.
”
Reese was silent for a moment, troubled. “You’re wrong about me,” he muttered, averting his gaze. “I’m not. ”
Jane cupped his face with trembling hands.
“I think,” she whispered, breathless, “you’re wonderful. ”
Reese stared at her, his gaze dark and piercing. Warmth spread over her skin. She forced herself to look away, but her eyes landed on his bare chest, lingering on the curve of his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed as he breathed.
His throat went dry. She wanted to feel the heat of that skin under her palms, wondered what his mouth might feel like against her own. She leaned in, closing her eyes, imagining—
“What are you doing? ”
Reese’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze.
His hand was on her shoulder, holding her in place. When their eyes met again, his were cold and detached. Jane’s face burned with embarrassment. She pulled back, desperate to flee, to hide her shame.
Reese’s hand slid from her shoulder to her wrist. “Wait. ”
Jane’s heart leapt. Hope flared like a flame on dry wood.
What if he were to pull her back into his arms? “Would you consider working for me? ” Reese asked, calm and matter-of-fact. “As my children’s nanny?
”
Jane blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. “What? ”
“I’m offering you a job,” Reese repeated, still holding her wrist. “Stay here as a nanny for Sophie and Marcus.
”
The words hit her like a cold slap. His gaze was detached, composed, making it clear he had no interest in her whatsoever. Jane swallowed hard. But then she realized he wasn’t only offering her shelter—he was giving her a purpose.
She nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes. I… thank you.
”
A brief, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. Then he released her wrist. Jane turned, ready to flee the room. “Jane.
”
She froze, her heart lurching as she reluctantly turned back. “It would be best,” Reese said, his voice low, “if you avoided coming into my room from now on. Especially if you’re going to be working for me. ”
Feeling small and foolish, Jane lowered her gaze, nodding quickly.
“Of course, sir,” she mumbled, chastised. She hurried out of the room, her mind swirling in a storm of confused frustration. When she shut the door to her room behind her and climbed into bed, her body was still humming with need, though her heart was heavy with rejection. How could it all feel so good while leaving her so utterly confused, yearning for more?
—
Sleep wouldn’t come. Reese lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, but Jane’s scent still clung to the room, wrapping around him, so sweet it was indecent. She shouldn’t have been in his room. But mostly, he shouldn’t have let her stay as long as she did.
He’d been too intoxicated by the blatant lust in her eyes, the heady sweetness in the air. Being human, she hadn’t realized how obvious her scent had been, betraying her desire. But Reese was a wolf. He had felt it change, thickening with arousal—for him.
He could still smell it now, and it drove him mad. His body ached with a raw, primal hunger he hadn’t felt in years, if ever. All he could think about was the little human—how close he’d come to losing control, how badly he’d wanted to feel her. He thought of her wide-eyed and flustered, her face flushed a delightful pink, that shy, nervous expression as she cast her eyes down.
She’d been embarrassed. But before that, she’d been about to kiss him. The image was burned into his mind. The way she smelled.
The way her body had looked under that thin nightgown. It left nothing to the imagination, every curve exposed, so soft, so feminine. But he couldn’t touch her. Not like that.
She was human, fragile, innocent. She was off limits. Reese forced himself out of bed. He strode toward the bathroom, turning the water to ice cold.
The shock drove the heat away, but the thoughts lingered. He was going out of his mind, driven by her scent. Tomorrow, she would be his nanny. And he would have to keep his distance.
—
Jane barely saw Reese for the following month. The man left almost as soon as the weather cleared, leaving her with intrusive, lingering thoughts and two children who clung to her in his absence. All things considered, both children were doing well. As the days passed, they slowly opened up to Jane, sharing thoughts, dreams, and hopes with their new nanny—though both refused to let her accompany them on their long afternoon trips into the woods.
Reese had warned her about this, assuring her it was fine for the children to roam the woods alone, only telling her to fetch Bill if they weren’t back by nightfall. At night, Jane dreamed of him—of his lips against her skin, his voice murmuring things she couldn’t quite remember upon waking, but which left her body aching. She caught glimpses of him in passing, or more often, in the portrait gallery she’d discovered, filled with paintings of Hawthorne family members going back generations. Unlike everyone else, Reese had not one but two portraits of himself.
One where he smiled, bright and full of life. The other where he scowled, cold and domineering. Jane had asked Miss Teal once, in the first week of his absence, when she thought he’d be back. She’d been met with an evasive answer that implied Mr.
Hawthorne had better things to do than entertain her, and a knowing glance that all but shouted at Jane not to go there. It was for the best. Reese staying away meant keeping him safe from the ghost of his wife. That’s what Jane told herself.
Except then Sophie would ask about him, or Marcus’s eyes would brighten at the mention of him, and her frustration with his absence would return full force. While the children roamed the woods, Jane spent time helping Uncle Bill around the grounds, often sharing her concern about Reese’s absence and its toll on the children. Bill too seemed troubled, though he always defended that it was hard for Reese to come home now, with the mistress gone. Jane hadn’t seen the ghost since Reese left, but it haunted her still.
She couldn’t help but wonder what Mrs. Hawthorne had been like when she was alive. She cautiously asked Bill what had happened to her once, but he grew evasive. “You wouldn’t understand, Jane.
It’s hard to explain to a… ” He paused, careful. “You know, near the end, she wasn’t really herself anymore. Not even her children could reach her.
She kept to her room, stared into space. Didn’t eat. Didn’t talk to anyone but the master. It took a toll on him.
He did all he could for her. ”
“But what was she like before? ” Jane asked, her throat tight. Bill’s expression softened.
“Joyful. Full of life. Strong. A force of nature, not unlike Miss Sophie.
When she wanted something, you could be sure she’d get it. ” He smiled fondly. “Everyone loved Eliza very much. No one more than Mr.
Hawthorne. ”
Jane’s heart tightened for Reese and the children. They all adored her. And unknown to them, she was still there—though not really herself, just as she hadn’t been before death.
Stuck in silent despair. —
Spring arrived. Reese sat in his office, sunlight filtering through the windows, but the warmth barely reached him. It was his first real day back after months of keeping away.
His children had grown. Sophie was more confident, Marcus more childlike. Jane’s presence had brought a lightness to them both, something he couldn’t provide. Perhaps it was time to move on from this house.
The isolation weighed them all down. But if they were to live among the pack, Jane wouldn’t be able to stay. The thought of the small human lingered, tugging at his mind. He wondered what she thought of his absence, whether she believed he was a terrible father.
She didn’t even know he was an Alpha, had no idea what kept him away. Which made it all the worse. He’d seen her with the children, ever present and patient. He’d like her opinion about the potential move, which was why he’d asked Miss Teal to fetch her.
But as Reese sat there, the room shifted. A cold weight settled on his shoulders. The familiar sense of dread wrapped around him, tight and unrelenting. A voice, low and insidious, whispered in his mind.
“This is the children’s home. They wouldn’t fare well away from it. And neither would you. You belong here.
”
His grip tightened on the arms of his chair. The cold intensified, seeping into his bones. The house was their home. They grew up here.
How could he take them away from this—from their mother? A sharp pain bloomed behind his eyes. He’d failed her. He’d always failed everyone he loved, leaving them all to die in his stead.
A soft knock interrupted his spiral. Jane stepped in, covered in flour, her cheeks flushed and hair a bit wild. The sight of her, so full of life, eased the tightness in his chest. “I apologize, sir,” she said, her voice light and amused.
“The children are preparing a tea party for you. There’s been plenty of baking going on. ”
Reese wanted to smile back, but the pounding in his head grew louder, drowning out his thoughts. “Sir?
” Jane’s smile faltered. She stepped closer, squinting slightly. Reese’s breath hitched. He gripped the edge of the desk.
He couldn’t take the children away. He couldn’t leave Eliza. She was here, always here, watching over them. Something warm settled on his knee.
Reese blinked, and suddenly Jane was in front of him, her hand on his arm. Through her palm—warm and small—the cold seeped away. “Reese? ” Jane asked, looking confused.
“I hadn’t heard you come in. ”
She smiled, a warm, kind smile. As the sunlight touched her hair, her scent bloomed. “You are a breath of fresh air in this stifling house, Jane,” Reese observed.
A lovely blush spread across Jane’s cheeks, one that made his wolf purr with satisfaction. Reese cleared his throat, and Jane practically jumped away. “I apologize, sir,” she said hurriedly. “Jane.
How many times do I have to tell you to call me Reese? ”
“Well, it’s just that no one else does, sir. ”
Reese chuckled, distracted. Jane was even lovelier than he remembered.
His wolf craved her. But he couldn’t cross that line. She was human, ultimately too fragile to be his. What a damn shame that was.
“Miss Teal did say you wanted a word,” Jane said. Reese frowned. He did want a word. Something about moving, about taking the children away from this place.
But no. He couldn’t. How could he ever think such a thing? “I was wondering how you were faring here,” he said instead.
“Are you happy with us? ”
“Of course I am,” Jane immediately replied. “Sir—Reese. I’m very happy here, in your home.
”
“Well, this place is rather isolated. Surely you’d be happier surrounded by people your age, with friends to share your time with. ”
“I’ve never really had any friends,” Jane confessed. “No friends?
” Reese frowned. “I don’t believe it. You’re too good not to have friends. ”
Jane looked deliciously flustered.
“People think I’m weird. ”
Reese laughed. “Weird? ” He repeated.
“I don’t think you’re weird at all. ”
The look Jane gave him was so hopeful it felt like the most fragile, precious thing in the entire world. —
The sunlit field was vibrant with the scent of wildflowers. Reese was there, reclining on the grass with a rare, peaceful smile, and the children were running around, their laughter light and carefree as they chased butterflies.
“Come on, Jane, come play with us! ” Sophie called. Jane laughed, moving to join them. But a strong hand wrapped around her wrist, holding her in place.
She turned, startled, to find Reese looking at her. “Stay with me,” he said, his voice low and playful. “But the children—”
“They’re fine. ” He gently pulled her to him, and she stumbled, landing squarely on his lap.
Reese laughed, a deep, rich sound that vibrated through her. “I’m not sure this is what friends do,” she managed, her gaze flitting to his lips, only inches from hers. “But you don’t really want to be friends, do you, darling? ” he teased, his voice dangerously smooth.
His thumb brushed her lower lip, and Jane shivered, a soft moan escaping her. His lips met hers, soft and gentle at first, then deeper, hungrier. Jane melted into it, arching toward him, pressing closer, craving more. Then he pulled back slightly.
His eyes were dark. “You’re not Eliza,” he said. The warmth faded. The light turned cold.
Reese was pale beneath her, his lips bluish, his eyes vacant, staring through her as if she wasn’t there. Jane woke with a sharp gasp, jerking upright in bed. The remnants of her dream clung to her mind, but the chill was real, crawling over her skin. She saw it.
Hovering above her, twisted and inhuman, was the ghost. Its face was contorted, its eyes black and empty, a wide malevolent grin stretching across its lips. “He’s mine,” the ghost hissed, its voice like a shard of ice. “He belongs to me.
”
Jane couldn’t move, frozen in shock and fear. The ghost lunged. The door burst open. “Jane, what’s wrong?
”
Strong arms pulled her from the bed—warm and solid. “Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” Reese pleaded. Jane obeyed, meeting his worried gaze. Relief washed over her, and she buried her face in his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of him.
“Are you all right? ” he asked, his hand stroking her hair. She glanced toward the corner of the room. It was still there, watching her.
She knew in that moment that the ghost had to be dealt with for good. Reese couldn’t stay trapped like this, haunted by something that was no longer alive. He didn’t belong to a dead woman. Jane might not be much, but she was alive.
And she wanted him, all of him, for herself. —
Jane drove down the winding roads, gripping the steering wheel. She needed answers—something to banish Eliza’s spirit for good. But she’d read every book in the mansion’s library, and she was running out of ideas.
With the children safe with Bill and Reese away, Jane seized the opportunity. The nearest town didn’t have a proper library, so she drove further south. A chain bookstore offered nothing useful. Frustration rose.
A young salesman interrupted her thoughts. “Looking for something about ghosts? ” he asked with a sheepish grin. “More like something specialized,” Jane muttered.
He pointed vaguely down the street. “Try the store at the end of town. ”
The place looked run down, more like a comic shop than anything helpful. With a sigh, she stepped inside.
Everything changed. The air cooled. The harsh lights dimmed, and the shop stretched out—old, vast, dusty shelves rising around her, the scent of aged paper thick in the air. The street outside looked darker, narrower, unfamiliar.
Confused, Jane stepped out and back in again. But the world beyond the door stayed bright. Inside, it was as though she’d stepped into another place entirely. “If you keep going at it, you’ll end up getting stuck,” a voice said, startling her.
Jane spun around. In the far end of the room, sprawled on a too-small couch, was a young man with messy copper hair, pinning the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Are you okay? ” Jane asked.
He made a sorry sight, his face twisted into a grimace, his limbs altogether too long for the small couch. “Fine,” he waved a lazy hand in her direction. “So go on then, kid. What will it be?
”
Jane blinked. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure—where are we? ”
“In my store, obviously. ” He sighed.
“Look, if you’re not going to be making a wish today, can you just leave? ”
“A wish? ” Jane parroted, confused. The young man snapped one of his eyes open—a bright green eye that made him look somewhat feline.
“If you’ve found this shop, then you must have a wish,” he observed, bored. Jane was overcome with the certainty that this man, though he looked young, was anything but. There was something odd about him, ancient and dark. “Are you a ghost?
” she asked timidly. He raised an eyebrow. “I’m a magician,” he said. “And I grant wishes to whoever is desperate enough to make one.
Like you. ”
Jane looked around for any hidden camera. “Can you do anything about ghosts? ” she asked, her mind swirling.
“You’re very focused on ghosts. You’re being haunted by one? ”
Jane gaped. This was the first time in her life she’d mentioned ghosts to someone without getting laughed at.
“Yes! ” she exclaimed. “Or, well, not me exactly. My boss.
Friend. He’s in danger. ”
The magician groaned, muttering something about not being nearly drunk enough for this. “Please,” Jane said, stepping closer.
“My friend is in danger. I don’t think I could live with myself if something happened to him. ”
“Then make a wish,” the young man said. “But I must warn you: if I grant it, I’ll be taking whatever it is you love most.
”
Jane frowned. She didn’t know if this was true, but… “The man I’m trying to save, he’s what I love most,” she confessed, her face heating up. She’d never said it aloud before.
The magician reached under the couch, pulling out a bottle of what was most likely alcohol. “If you make a wish and your hopeless crush really is what you love most,” he said, opening the bottle, “then as a consequence, you’ll probably be apart from him forever. ”
Jane’s heart twisted painfully. “Away from him forever?
” She couldn’t bear the thought. The magician took in her crumbling expression and sighed. “Here. Have some.
It’ll help. ”
“What is it? ”
“A magical brew which makes all feelings of hopelessness go away. It looks like whiskey,” he added.
“Precisely,” the magician smirked. Jane took a careful look at him. There was a deep-rooted sadness behind his green eyes that made her feel more lonely than she ever had. “Are you sure you’re not a ghost?
” she asked. “Pretty sure,” he waved his bottle. “Does it make me selfish if I decide not to make a wish? ” Jane asked with a sigh, accepting a small sip.
“I know I could help him. ”
“It probably does. ”
“You could always tell him to wish the ghost away himself,” the magician observed. “He doesn’t know it’s there.
And he wouldn’t believe me if I told him. ” Jane sighed, bringing the bottle to her lips. “For the first time in my life, it feels like there’s something worth living for. And even though it’s probably wrong, I don’t want to let it go.
”
She paused, then looked at the man. “Do you know what I mean? ”
He didn’t respond immediately, looking troubled. “No,” he finally replied, taking his bottle back.
—
Jane hadn’t been home for hours. Reese paced the living room, his wolf growling in the back of his mind. She isn’t yours, he told himself. He tried to remind himself she was allowed to have friends, to enjoy herself.
But what if she wasn’t with someone else at all? What if she was lost or hurt somewhere? He was about to storm out of the mansion to find her when suddenly a weight settled onto his lap—warm and soft. Out of thin air, Jane appeared, gazing up at him with wide, glassy eyes.
“Oh, I’m home,” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her scent flooded his senses—a mix of sweetness and something heady, tinted with alcohol. Reese stared at her, stunned. “Jane, what happened?
Where did you come from? ”
“I can’t believe that teleportation thing worked,” she replied cryptically. She leaned her forehead against his chest and groaned. “Met a magician,” she mumbled sleepily.
“Might have a solution for the ghost. ”
Reese frowned. “The ghost? What are you talking about?
” But then it hit him—her scent, the flush on her cheeks, the slight slur. “Jane,” he asked, amused, “have you been drinking? ”
She tilted her head back, looking up at him with a dazed smile. “Well, perhaps a little.
You know, I’d never had alcohol before. I like it. It feels warm and good. Like you.
You feel so good, Reese. ”
Reese kept still, acutely aware of how close she was, her body fitted perfectly against his. “Why is the room spinning? ” she wondered, confused.
“Because you’re drunk, darling,” Reese replied, his voice a little more tender than intended. She giggled. “I’m not drunk. I’m just in a bit of a mood, that’s all.
” Her small hand slid down his chest, and Reese gritted his teeth. Her lips brushed against his neck. “Your hands are so big and warm,” she murmured. “Right, time for bed,” Reese hurriedly declared, lifting her into his arms.
“Your bed. ”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, a pleased smile on her lips. “No, darling,” Reese replied, clenching his jaw. He was picturing her trapped beneath him, her body soft and pliant under his hands.
“That wouldn’t be a very good idea,” he concluded, sounding unbearably strained. Jane didn’t reply, instead snuggling into him with a content sigh. By the time he reached her bedroom, she was already half asleep. Laying her down, he couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
Jane watched him, her eyes half-lidded but filled with devastating adoration. “What did you get up to tonight? ” he asked tenderly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Jane pouted.
“I was trying to forget,” she mumbled plaintively. “Forget what? ”
Her answer came in a soft slurred confession. “You.
How in love with you I am. ”
Reese froze. “You’re in love with me? ” he repeated, his heart clenching.
“And it hurts because you don’t feel the same,” she whined, her voice growing softer. Reese leaned closer. “Meanwhile? ” he prompted, his voice rough.
Jane moaned softly. “I think about… how good it would feel if you— if you were to touch me and make love to me, like I imagine you doing. ” Her scent sweetened, so dizzying it was all he could do to keep his hands off of her.
But his little human was asleep before she even finished her sentence. He stared at her for a long moment, his chest tight with longing. She’d said she loved him. That she thought of him in ways that would scandalize a human.
He felt oddly humbled. He aimed to move, but Jane tightened her hold around his hand. “Jane,” he murmured. “I don’t know what to make of all this.
Knowing that you love me, that you would even want me. ” He brought her small hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Because make no mistake, sweetheart, I do want to make you mine. How could I not love you back?
You’re irresistible. ”
Jane snuggled closer, as if instinctively trying to make him feel better. He didn’t deserve that comfort. Jane was human.
If she became his mate, her life would be difficult. She could never live with the pack. A mating bite would likely kill her. Bearing a shifter child would also likely kill her.
She deserved better than the type of future he could give her. But it would be her choice, he decided. Tomorrow, he would tell her everything. Lay it all out—the truth of what he was, the risks, the impossibility of their life together.
If despite everything Jane was still willing to have him… She won’t, a little voice told him. Of course she won’t. He pushed the doubt away.
Maybe not. But I owe her the truth. She deserves to know she’s loved. That I would choose her, again and again.
“You’re selfish and cruel,” the voice said against the shell of his ear. Reese’s breath hitched. The cold followed him as he stumbled into the hallway. “You’d risk her life to fulfill your selfish desire,” the voice went on.
“Have you no shame? She doesn’t belong here with you. ”
The cold gripped him tighter, whispering darkly, scraping at his mind. “You’re a liar.
You said you would always love me, and yet look what you did to me. How could you ever think it would be any different with her? ”
Reese’s head pounded, vision blurring. “No.
No, you’re right. It wouldn’t work. I would hurt her. ”
“Then you know what you need to do,” the voice said, soft and sickly sweet, wrapping around him like a noose.
His hands flew to his head as pain seared through his skull. He felt like he was sinking into icy waters. Then everything went black. —
Early morning light sliced through the curtains, searing Jane’s vision.
She groaned, pulling the covers over her head. Her mouth was dry, her stomach churned, and her thoughts were fragmented. The last thing she recalled was being in the magician’s shop. A young woman had come in with strawberry blonde hair, but after that, her memory blurred into an incoherent haze.
She sat up, blinking against the pain in her temples, and gasped. In the corner of her room, seated in the farthest chair, watching her in silence, was Reese. “Hi,” she greeted him, her voice hoarse. He was pale, almost ashen.
There was something wrong in the way his hands trembled, even though they were clasped tightly together. “Is something wrong? ” she asked. Reese cleared his throat, the sound rough and cold.
“We won’t be needing your services anymore,” he said flatly. “I think it would be best if you packed your things and left today. ”
Jane’s heart sank. “Why?
” Her voice trembled. “Are you angry with me? ”
Reese stayed silent, his knuckles white where they gripped the armrest. “I found you drunk last night.
Do you remember? ”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, cheeks burning. “You told me you love me,” he cut her off. Jane froze.
She didn’t remember that. “I—I didn’t mean—” she stuttered. But his gaze was unrelenting. “Is it true?
”
Jane searched his face, desperate to find something that told her what he wanted her to say. She didn’t want to lie. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I do.
”
Reese’s face hardened. “You’re my nanny, Jane. My employee. ”
The words hit like a physical blow.
“I know,” she whispered, her chest tight. “I promise you won’t ever hear any more of it. ”
Reese stood abruptly, his movements agitated, his hands gripping his head as if in pain. “It isn’t enough,” he growled, turning his back to her.
“Keeping you here is a betrayal. ”
“A betrayal? ” Jane repeated, confused. “Because of Eliza.
I—I know how much you loved her. I would never try to take her place. But Eliza is gone. You need to let her go.
”
“Pack your bags. Now. ” His voice was sharp, cutting through her like a knife. “Reese, please,” Jane begged, tears spilling over.
“Let me stay and help with the children. I’m not asking you to love me. Just please don’t send me away. ”
But it hardly looked like Reese could even hear her.
He turned and stormed out of the room. “I can’t bear to look at you,” he said before disappearing, his voice so detached he sounded like an entirely different person. Jane remained sitting there, the crushing weight of his words settling in her chest, heaving with silent sobs. —
Jane sprinted out of the house, tears streaming down her face.
She wiped them away furiously, forcing herself to focus. She found Bill outside his cabin, tending to some firewood. “Uncle Bill,” she gasped, breathless. “Can I borrow your car?
”
Bill blinked, surprise and concern in his eyes. “Jane, what’s going on? You’ve been crying. ”
“Nothing,” she lied, her voice trembling.
“I just need to go to town for a bit. ”
“What did he do? ” Bill asked, his voice low and protective. “Did he hurt you?
”
Jane shook her head. “No, Uncle Bill. It wasn’t like that. ”
Bill sighed, looking conflicted.
“Look, Jane. I know how you feel about him. But you can’t keep holding on to the hope that he… Reese can’t be with you.
He’s never going to be with you. You understand? ”
Jane nodded stiffly. Of course he couldn’t be with her.
He was still in love with his wife. “I know,” she murmured, looking away. “I’m not good enough. ”
“What are you talking about?
” Bill exclaimed. “It has nothing to do with being good enough. Believe me. It’s just— it wouldn’t be right for him to mate with you.
” He sighed, like he was struggling to find the right words. “And besides, after everything that happened here… the fire… I just wish you wouldn’t, Jane.
”
Jane swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “I wish I could help him. ”
“Oh, honey,” Bill murmured, looking sad. “There’s nothing you can do.
Grieving takes time. And you know, between losing his brother and Miss Eliza… ”
“His brother is dead too? ” Jane murmured, clutching the last fragments of her shattered heart.
Bill nodded grimly. “We don’t talk about him too much. ” He threw a glance at the house. “The children lost their mother in a fire.
The master thought that was more than enough death. Enough trauma. ”
“Marcus was there,” Jane pressed gently. “During the fire?
”
Bill shook his head like the words were too difficult to say. “Reese had to get him out. Sophie too. ” He choked.
“By the time he came back for Eliza, it was too late. He couldn’t save her. He had to leave her there. And so he believed she died not knowing how much she was loved.
That’s why he can never get over her death. ”
Jane nodded, but the words barely registered. Her mind was too clouded. Reese wasn’t himself.
She knew that. And she was going to fix it. —
Jane drove back to town, her hands trembling on the wheel. She ran to the rundown comic book store, pushing the door open and shutting her eyes.
When she opened them, she was standing in the magician’s shop. A young woman with strawberry blonde hair sent her a death glare. “Oh,” she said, annoyed. “It’s you.
”
“Hi,” Jane tried, giving her a friendly smile. “I’m—I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t remember much of what happened. ”
“Iris,” the blonde said with a scowl.
Then she called up the stairs. “Adrien! Your drinking buddy’s back. ”
The magician appeared on the stairs, his hair even messier than before.
He gave Jane a brief glance. “Who’s this? ” he asked. Iris looked like she wanted to throttle him.
“That’s Jane. The one you were with all day yesterday. ”
Adrien blinked. “I’ve never seen this person in my life,” he replied, sounding shockingly sincere.
“We did meet,” Jane insisted. “You said you could grant me a wish. ”
Adrien groaned dramatically. “Now about your wish.
I remember you said you’d take what I love most in exchange. And that it would probably mean I wouldn’t see Reese anymore,” Jane said. “Who’s Reese? ” the magician asked.
Jane ignored him. “But if I don’t do something, I’m going to lose him anyway. I’d rather we be apart, knowing he is safe and happy. ”
“It’s way too early for all this drama,” Adrien sighed, sagging in his chair.
Jane pressed on. “My friend Reese is being haunted by a ghost. The ghost of his dead wife. Sometimes this ghost talks to him, and it affects him.
He becomes angry, not like himself. For example, just earlier, he fired me. ”
“Maybe he fired you ‘cause you were getting wasted here instead of doing your job,” Iris’s voice cut in from the back. “No,” Jane said.
“He wouldn’t just fire me for that. We’re friends. He cares about me. I know it.
All those cruel things he said to me, he’d never have said them if it weren’t for the ghost of his wife. She’s stuck here, and they can’t let go of each other. ”
The magician sighed. “So you wish for this ghost to go away?
”
Hope fluttered in Jane’s chest. She thought of wishing Eliza away into oblivion. But she remembered Bill’s words—how Reese adored her. She thought of the children, Eliza’s children.
And mostly, she thought of Reese, who believed his wife died not knowing how much she was loved. If she just made Eliza disappear, none of them would get the closure they needed. “I heard ghosts remain in the land of the living because of unfinished business, of sorts,” she said. “So couldn’t I wish for Eliza to find closure instead of just making her disappear?
She and Reese really loved each other, but a fire tore them apart. I think she needs to say goodbye. ”
Adrien gave her a careful look. “If you wish for the ghost to find closure, I will give it closure.
Meaning I’ll be giving it exactly what it wants, no matter what. ”
Jane bit her lip. Reese chose to save their children instead of her. He thought she died not knowing how much she was loved.
But if she could just know how much she was missed… Adrien grimaced. “If knowing that is what she needs, then she will have it. Should you wish it.
”
Jane clenched her fists. “I do,” she said with a nod. —
The road blurred ahead of her as Jane drove back from the magician’s shop. Hope swelled in her chest—finally, Eliza might find peace.
If the magic worked, Reese and his children could be free. But along with that hope came a deep ache. The idea of losing Reese cut through her like a blade. She finally found something worth holding on to, and now she was going to lose it all.
But this was for the best. Eliza needed closure, and Reese deserved to move on, to be happy without the weight of his guilt and pain. He needed to be free. Still, it hurt.
She wiped a tear from her cheek. The moment Eliza was free, Jane would be taken away from Reese, from the children, from the life she’d just started to imagine for herself. Maybe I still have time, she whispered, her voice hoarse. I can at least say goodbye.
As she neared the estate, something strange caught her eye. Smoke. Her heart lurched. A thick plume of black smoke rose over the tree line, curling against the dusky sky like a dark omen.
Panic surged through her veins. She slammed her foot on the gas. The smoke grew thicker, and as she rounded the last bend, the full horror came into view. The house.
Reese’s home. It was engulfed in flames. —
Reese blinked, his vision hazy and unfocused. Everything felt distant and surreal, like he was trapped in a dream.
The heat pressed down on him, suffocating. His lungs burned with every breath. He was so tired, so heavy. He couldn’t move.
The crackling of the fire surrounded him, but it was distant, muffled, like the sound of a storm far off in the horizon. “We can be together forever now,” the voice said. Soft, sweet, familiar. It drifted through his mind like a whisper.
He knew this voice. It felt like something from long ago, a memory buried deep. A face hovered above him—long dark hair, clear blue eyes. “Ellie?
” Reese murmured, confused. It must be a dream. Eliza was dead. She died in the fire.
But hadn’t the fire been put out? Why was there still smoke? “You left me,” Eliza’s voice whispered. “I’m sorry,” he coughed.
“I had to get the children to safety. ”
“We were supposed to be together forever,” Eliza accused. “Why didn’t you stay? Why did you take our children away?
”
Reese closed his eyes. He remembered feeling slow and dull like this. A woman standing before him with a candle in hand. “I can’t take this anymore,” she’d said.
“Even near you, I feel like we are apart. It hurts. My entire soul hurts. ”
Then she’d taken the candle over to the curtains.
“You lit that fire,” Reese rasped. He remembered Eliza’s dead-eyed stare, so far from the ones he’d grown up with. Her apathy. Her disinterest.
The way she wouldn’t even hold Sophie. Only their cries had gotten him up that day—the day Eliza had decided to end it all. “Did you drug me, Ellie? ” he asked, perhaps to Eliza, perhaps to the void.
Was she even here? A voice, distorted and spectral, echoed. “Stop calling me that! You never call me Ellie.
Reese calls me Ellie. Not you. ”
Reese shut his eyes. So many times before, the desire to tell Eliza the truth had bubbled within him.
Had he made a mistake lying to her? He’d been trying to keep her alive. He’d been worried about the baby. “We’ll be together soon,” Eliza repeated.
—
Jane screamed as she pulled the car to a screeching halt. She threw open the door and stumbled out, her eyes wide with disbelief. The fire raged, consuming the grand mansion in a blaze of orange and red. The flames licked hungrily at the walls, black smoke billowing into the sky.
“Reese! ” she screamed. “Marcus! Sophie!
”
No answer. Panic clawed at her chest. Her legs moved on their own, racing toward the burning house. She coughed, her throat raw, as she pushed through the haze.
She caught a glimpse of movement—a figure hunched over near the edge of the woods. “Reese! ” she called, her voice breaking. As she got closer, the figure turned.
Her heart shattered. Standing alone, tears streaming down his soot-stained face, his small body trembling, was Marcus. Jane rushed to him, grabbing his shoulders. “Where’s your father?
Where’s Sophie? ”
Marcus sniffled. “Sophie left with Uncle Bill and Miss Teal earlier. But—” he shrugged helplessly.
Jane’s blood ran cold. Reese was still in the house. “No,” she whispered, her stomach twisting in terror. She looked back at the inferno.
Without thinking, she started toward the house again. But Marcus grabbed her arm, his grip surprisingly strong. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice a broken whisper. Jane crouched down, pulling him into her arms.
Then he spoke again. “She told me—she told me if I helped her light another fire, then she’d leave,” he whispered. Jane froze. “I didn’t want to,” he pursued, his voice cracking.
“But she kept asking and asking, and she sounded so sad. I just wanted it to stop. ”
Bile lurched in Jane’s throat. She’d been such a fool.
All this time, she’d been so focused on Reese that she’d failed to worry about Eliza influencing anyone else in the house. “It’s not your fault,” Jane whispered, her voice shaking. “I know you didn’t want to. ”
“Mom says she just wants to be with him again,” Marcus told her, gripping her arm.
“She says they’re fated mates, that they can’t be apart. ”
“I don’t want the Alpha to die,” Marcus sobbed. “She made him drink something, and now he won’t wake up. ”
The fire cracked and snapped, the sound deafening.
Jane could barely breathe, torn between love and fear. “Marcus, listen to me,” she ordered. “I’m going to find your father. You go outside and stay there.
Don’t come back, no matter what. ”
Marcus shook his head in protest. “Jane, you don’t understand,” he said with a cry. “Reese isn’t my father.
He pretends to be, for Sophie, I think. But he’s not. ”
“What are you talking about? ” Jane gaped.
“Reese is my uncle,” Marcus explained. “My real father is dead. ”
—
Reese thought he was going to die, and that it was probably for the best. You couldn’t cheat death for so long.
He only wished he’d died sooner. He wished he hadn’t traded places that day with Cliff. It was a habit of theirs—trading places. They’d done so ever since they were little.
At first, it had been fun, unexpected, because they thought for sure everyone would guess. Cliff and Reese looked exactly alike. But no one could tell the difference, not for a long time. Cliff and Reese shared everything except for one thing: Eliza.
Reese’s best friend, another shifter from the pack. She and Cliff couldn’t stand to be in the same room together without getting into a fight. It always seemed strange to Reese, because he adored them both. It didn’t make sense that the two people he loved most didn’t get along.
It all made sense when they became adults and recognized each other as mates. Reese was overjoyed, of course—that his brother and his best friend had found each other. Even more so when Eliza gave birth to their first child, a boy, Marcus. But there was a bit of resentment.
Because while Cliff got Eliza and a family, a bond, Reese only got to be Alpha. And he’d never wanted it. Cliff knew it. He always said that if Reese was ever chosen, they’d switch, and Cliff would become Alpha in his stead.
He wanted the job. He was the confident twin, not Reese. But when it came down to it, Cliff told him he couldn’t take on the role; it was too dangerous, and he wouldn’t risk being separated from his mate. He swore, though, that at times when Reese needed a break, they would still switch temporarily.
And they would—until the day of the attack. It was supposed to be a simple meeting with a neighboring pack. Cliff offered to go instead of Reese, who desperately needed time off. He’d been courting a girl and wanted time with her, a mate of his own.
So Cliff went. And he never returned. Reese was left to give Eliza the news. He couldn’t bear to look her in the eye.
She looked like she already knew. And she must have, for without Cliff, her soul had been split in two. She was haggard, barely looking human at all. When her eyes met his, though, she smiled briefly, asking Reese to come closer.
Then she kissed him and called him “Cliff. ”
That was how long years of horrified silence began. Eliza was pregnant at the time, and the healers were worried she wouldn’t make it, that she’d lose the baby, or worse, die alongside it. The only times a bit of color returned to her cheeks were when Reese came by, and she’d make him pretend to act like his dead brother.
And so Reese did. Until he wasn’t sure Eliza was really pretending anymore. Sophie was born. Two years passed.
Eliza never got better. Then, one night, he woke up to a house in flames, the children screaming for him. Now the house was burning again. But Reese knew his children were safe.
He’d made Ellie swear she wouldn’t take them, in return for him paying his debt. If she wanted him dead for having his brother killed in his stead, then so be it. Reese just wished he could have seen his small human one last time. —
Jane raced through the flames, her lungs burning.
Every step felt like it was dragging her deeper into the fire. The heat seared her skin, sweat dripping down her back. The house was crumbling around her—beams collapsing, walls falling away. But she kept going.
Marcus’s words echoed in her mind. She pushed through the thick smoke, her vision blurry, her throat raw. The stairs ahead were in ruins, wood and debris blocking the path, flames licking the edges of what was left. “Reese!
” her voice cracked, barely audible over the roaring fire. A massive shadow moved. Jane froze. An enormous wolf, larger than any she’d ever seen, emerged from the flames.
Its eyes gleamed in the flickering light. It stopped in front of her, its gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her heart stutter. There was something familiar about it, something she couldn’t quite place. But it didn’t matter.
She had no other choice. Jane scrambled onto the wolf’s back, clinging to its fur. It leapt forward, effortlessly clearing the debris blocking the staircase. Her grip tightened as it bounded up the crumbling stairs, each jump sending her heart racing.
They reached the top. And then she found Reese. He was lying unconscious on the ground, his body limp, his skin pale against the flickering light of the fire. But he wasn’t alone.
Beside him, its figure glowing in the eerie light, was Eliza’s ghost. Its eyes were locked on Reese, its face twisted with sorrow and longing. “Eliza, stop! ” Jane screamed, her voice hoarse and frantic.
“That’s not Cliff! He’s gone! He’s dead! ”
The ghost looked up.
Jane’s heart clenched. This woman—this tortured soul—had been trapped here for years, unable to move on, unable to let go, because she didn’t think she could. “Eliza,” Jane pleaded, stepping forward. “Your mate is gone.
You can join him now. You can rest. ”
The ghost’s form wavered, her face crumpling as she turned to the wolf. The giant creature stepped forward from the shadows.
The wolf’s eyes met Eliza’s, and something passed between them—a silent understanding. Tears streamed down Eliza’s face as she reached out, wrapping her arms around the wolf’s neck, clinging to it as if her very existence depended on it. Then, just like that, they were gone. The ghost vanished, disappearing into the flames.
The wolf melted into the shadows, leaving nothing but a hollow silence in its wake. Jane rushed to Reese’s side, her hands trembling as she touched his face. His skin was too cold, too still. “Reese,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“Please wake up. ”
For a moment, nothing happened. The fire crackled around them, the heat oppressive. Reese didn’t move.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t leave me. ”
Then, slowly, his eyes fluttered open. A weak smile tugged at his lips as he looked up at her.
“Jane. ”
Relief crashed over her, and she pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly. “I love you, Reese,” she murmured, her words slurred but clear. His eyes widened, and she saw the confusion, the hope, the fear.
Then he pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. When she pulled away, she was no longer holding Reese. In his place was a massive wolf, nearly identical to the one that had carried her through the flames. Its amber eyes stared into hers, full of warmth and understanding.
Jane’s breath caught. With a gentle nudge, the wolf lowered itself. Without hesitation, she climbed onto its back. The beast leapt through the shattered window, soaring through the flames, carrying her away from the destruction below.
The wind rushed around them, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jane felt free. —
Bill pushed open the door to the comic store, his heart pounding. As he stepped inside, the world shifted. The bright lights and garish posters faded, and he found himself standing in an old, dusty bookstore.
The air was thick with the scent of old paper and forgotten stories. “Oh, look. A shifter,” a voice deadpanned. Bill turned.
A young woman with strawberry blonde hair sat behind a counter, flipping through a magazine with a bored expression. She didn’t even lift her eyes. “You must be Iris,” Bill said, clearing his throat. The girl shrugged, tossing the magazine aside.
“Suppose I should go find the boss for you. ”
She disappeared into the back, returning moments later with a tall man with messy dark hair and an unsettling presence. The aura around him was thick, almost palpable, and Bill had to swallow down the instinct to turn and leave. “I suppose you have a wish to make,” Adrien said, sitting down across from Bill like they were discussing the weather.
Bill hesitated. “I’ve heard about you from Jane. ”
At the mention of her name, Adrien raised a brow. “If you’ve come to get her wish back, you’re wasting your time.
I can’t undo wishes. Once I take something, it’s gone until the day I die. ”
Iris piped in, her tone deadpan. “And he’s immortal.
”
Bill shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. ” He paused, then pushed on. “Jane told me that what she lost in exchange for her wish was her ability to see ghosts.
”
Adrien leaned back, crossing his arms. “It’s what she loved most, because it let her help the people she loves. And she was quite desperate to help someone—your Alpha, I’m guessing. ”
Bill nodded slowly.
“Jane is in love with him, and I know he loves her too. But Jane is human. Being with a shifter is dangerous for her. She could get bitten and die.
She could get pregnant and die. Shifters don’t really mix well with humans. ”
Adrien’s eyes narrowed. “Right.
So what is it you wish for, Bill? To keep them apart? ”
Bill bristled but shook his head. “No.
I don’t want to keep them apart. I love Jane. I want her to be happy. ” He swallowed hard, his voice faltering.
“When I was younger, about thirty years ago, I fell in love with a human woman. A married woman. She wanted to leave her life behind for me, but I knew we couldn’t be together. It was too dangerous for her.
So I let her go. ”
Adrien listened in silence. “She was pregnant,” Bill continued, his voice raw. “I didn’t know at the time, but she wrote to me later, after she found out.
I was terrified the baby might be mine. I found her—and thankfully, the child, Jane, was human. But her mother still died during childbirth. ” His hands trembled.
“I told her husband I was a distant relative. When Social Services reached out to me after her father passed, I said I couldn’t take her in. She was human, I told myself. She couldn’t be part of my world.
But the truth is, I was a coward. ”
Bill’s voice softened. “But no more. I owe Jane her happiness.
So I wish for her to become a shifter. To fully and safely be with Reese. ”
Adrien studied him carefully, something dark and dangerous in his eyes. “That’s quite noble of you, Bill.
But you know what it’ll cost you. You’ll lose what you love most. ”
Bill’s heart pounded, but he met Adrien’s gaze without flinching. “I’m growing old.
I’ve got nothing left to lose. Nothing worth more than Jane’s happiness. ”
Adrien’s dark eyes flickered. For a moment, Bill thought he saw a trace of respect.
“Very well,” he said, his voice low and quiet. —
Epilogue
Jane stood at the edge of the field, watching from a distance as Reese and the children came to stand before the grave. The wide, flowery plains stretched endlessly around them, bathed in the soft golden light of dusk. There was no ghost lingering in the peaceful landscape, no shadow or chill to disrupt the moment.
Only the soft summer breeze whispered through the grass, rippling the sea of vibrant wildflowers like a gentle sigh. Everything felt alive, vivid, full of hope—as if the world itself was breathing in the promise of new beginnings. Jane smiled, her heart full. “Kids,” Reese’s voice carried through the field, deep and filled with emotion.
He hugged the children close, his silhouette strong against the warm glow of the setting sun. “This was your father. Cliff Hawthorne. He was a good man.
And my brother. ”
Jane could hear him clearly; her new, heightened senses caught every word. Her hearing wasn’t the only thing that had changed. She had become one of them—a shifter, with all the strength and instincts that came with it.
But more importantly, she had gained a family. Sophie’s small voice piped up, filled with innocent curiosity. “Was Cliff my mom’s mate? ”
Reese’s reply was heavy with emotion.
“Yes. She loved him very much. She loved you both too. And your dad loved you more than anything.
”
Marcus was quiet for a moment, his eyes thoughtful as he stared at the grave. The light caught in his golden hair. Eventually, he nodded. “You’re our dad,” he said softly, turning to take Reese’s hand.
Jane’s smile widened, her chest warm with love and peace as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long golden rays across the field. Reese and the children turned and started to walk back toward her. “Thank you for watching,” Jane murmured to herself, watching them approach.
She had found her family at last.
