The drive back to Brigit’s place was quiet but filled with a sense of purpose. Diarmid’s hand rested on my thigh, his touch grounding me as I tried to push the image of the hooded figure out of my mind. Once we arrived, Diarmid wasted no time.
“I’ll run a patrol with Finn,” he said, his tone decisive. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, as if silently reassuring me, before he turned to Finn, who nodded in agreement.
Brigit and Rhyian stayed close as the others dispersed. “You’re with us now,” Brigit said with a smile, her usual playful demeanor making an appearance to ease the tension. “No one’s getting near you while we’re around.”
I managed a small laugh, her confidence infectious, but the encounter outside Josh’s place still lingered in the back of my mind.
My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. Seeing Michael’s name on the screen, I quickly answered.
“Arwen,” Michael’s voice was steady, a source of comfort amidst the chaos. “Your parents are safe. They’ve been moved to a secure location, far from any potential danger.”
Relief washed over me, though the weight of the situation didn’t lessen. “Thank you, Michael. I’ve been so worried about them.”
“They’re strong, Arwen. Just like you,” he said, his tone softening. “As for the Circle, we’re still investigating the attacks and the hooded figure. There’s a strong possibility they’re targeting specific bloodlines—yours included.”
I swallowed hard, the gravity of his words settling in. “Michael, I’ll do whatever you need. I’ll stay in touch and keep you updated.”
“Good,” he said firmly. “And you’ll be staying with Diarmid and his pack for now. They’re capable, and I trust them to keep you safe.”
I smiled faintly, grateful for his trust. “I’ll be careful, Michael. Thank you for everything.”
After the call ended, Brigit popped her head into the room. “All good?”
I nodded, tucking my phone into my pocket. “Yeah. My parents are safe, and Michael is on top of everything.”
“Well, that’s one less thing to worry about,” she said brightly. “And don’t stress about the patrol. Diarmid won’t let anything get close to you.”
Her words were comforting, and I felt a flicker of warmth knowing how fiercely Diarmid and his pack were protecting me.
The atmosphere in their living room was tense but focused as Finn finished his call. He spoke in low, careful tones, ensuring the conversation with their kingdom remained subtle. Every word was deliberate, designed not to raise any alarm while still conveying the urgency of the situation.
When Finn finally hung up, all eyes were on him. The pack, including me, waited as he gathered his thoughts. Diarmid sat beside me on the plush sofa, his arm draped protectively around my shoulders. His warmth grounded me, even as Finn’s words threatened to stir up the nerves I was trying to keep under control.
“Our contacts are digging into the hooded figure’s presence near Arwen,” Finn began, his tone measured. “There’s no immediate indication they’ve breached our kingdom’s inner defenses, but their movements are calculated. It’s clear they’re connected to the attacks in Europe—and they’re looking for something. Or someone.”
The weight of his last words wasn’t lost on anyone. Diarmid’s grip around me tightened, his silent promise of protection unshaken.
“Do you think they’ve allied with rogue Lycans?” Rhyian asked, her brows furrowed. She leaned forward, her expression a mix of concern and determination.
Finn nodded. “It’s possible. If they’ve worked with vampires, then rogue packs aren’t far-fetched. The kingdom suspects the same. We’re keeping our communications discreet until we have more to go on.”
As Finn continued, I found myself marveling at how naturally I’d slipped into their world. Sitting here, surrounded by Diarmid’s pack, it felt like I belonged—like this was where I was meant to be.
And then there was Diarmid. His presence beside me was a constant distraction. The memory of our first kiss in the library sent a flush of warmth to my cheeks. That moment, charged with so much unspoken emotion, had been impossible to forget.
And then there were the subtle touches—the way his fingers brushed mine at dinner when he thought no one was watching, the stolen glances that made my heart race. It was as though we were drawn together by something beyond our control, something stronger than either of us could explain.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Arwen?” Brigit’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I blinked, realizing everyone was looking at me. “Sorry, what?”
“I was just saying,” Brigit said with a smirk, “that you’re safe here. No hooded figure or rogue pack is going to get past us.”
“Absolutely not,” Diarmid said firmly, his voice low but resolute. His hand moved to rest on my knee, his touch reassuring.
I managed a small smile, grateful for their unwavering support. “Thank you. All of you.”
The conversation shifted back to strategy, but my thoughts remained tangled with the man beside me. I couldn’t deny it anymore—Diarmid was no longer just the mysterious Lycan prince who’d stepped into my life. He was becoming something more.
And that terrified and thrilled me in equal measure.
The days passed in a strange lull, the kind that made you wonder if the storm had truly passed or was merely biding its time. Diarmid and his pack carried on as usual, though their patrols were still constant and their vigilance never wavered. It was reassuring, but it also made me feel... intrusive.
I sat on the edge of the bed—Diarmid’s bed, the one he had graciously surrendered to me without a single complaint. The thought of it made my cheeks flush. I’d never imagined I’d be sharing a home, let alone his room, with someone like him.
But guilt gnawed at me. They’d done so much—too much. And though I knew I was safer here, the idea of their lives revolving around my protection made me feel like a burden.
The hooded figure hadn’t shown itself since the incident near Josh’s place. Maybe the danger had passed. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as we feared.
With a sigh, I resolved to talk to someone about it. Brigit and Rhyian felt like the right choice. They’re friends, and I trusted them to give me an honest opinion without immediately dragging Diarmid into it.
I found them in the spacious kitchen, laughing softly as they prepped snacks. Brigit was slicing fruit with an almost predatory grace, while Rhyian stirred something on the stove, her golden hair tied up in a messy bun. They both looked up as I entered, their smiles instantly welcoming.
“Arwen!” Brigit chirped, setting down the knife. “What’s up? You look like you have something on your mind.”
Rhyian glanced at me with a raised brow. “Let me guess—Diarmid’s been growling at everyone again, hasn’t he?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just... I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should go back to Josh’s place.”
Their smiles faded, replaced by identical looks of concern. Brigit crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“I don’t want to intrude,” I admitted, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “You’ve all done so much for me already. I mean, I kicked Diarmid out of his own room, and you’re all on patrol constantly because of me. It doesn’t feel right.”
Rhyian rolled her eyes dramatically. “Arwen, you’re not intruding. You’re family now, whether you like it or not. Diarmid made that very clear.”
“And honestly,” Brigit added, a teasing grin on her lips, “I think Diarmid likes being kicked out of his room if it means you’re here.”
I blushed, shaking my head. “That’s not the point. It’s been quiet lately, and I think the danger might be over. I don’t want to disrupt your lives any more than I already have.”
Rhyian set down her spoon and walked over to me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Listen, Arwen. The danger isn’t over just because it’s been quiet. If anything, that’s when you need to be the most careful. And as for disrupting our lives? Please. You’ve made things way more interesting around here.”
Brigit nodded in agreement, her grin widening. “Exactly. And if you leave, who’s going to keep Diarmid from growling at every guy who looks at you? You’re doing us a favor by staying.”
Their words warmed my heart, but the guilt still lingered. “Are you sure? I just don’t want to cause trouble.”
“Trouble?” Brigit scoffed. “Sweetheart, you’re the least of our worries. Besides, we love having you here. Right, Rhyian?”
Rhyian smiled, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Absolutely. And if you even think about leaving, Diarmid will probably chain himself to your door to keep you here.”
I laughed despite myself, the mental image both ridiculous and strangely endearing. “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”
“Good,” Brigit said firmly, handing me a slice of apple. “Now, eat something. You’re not going anywhere, so you might as well get comfortable.”
As I bit into the apple, I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Maybe they were right. Maybe I did belong here, with them.
The soft afternoon light filters through the curtains as I drift into a nap. The weight of the day, the tension of my new reality, and the safety of this strange home lull me into an uneasy sleep.
And then it comes—the dream.
My heart races, just like it always does, the moment I realize who I’m about to see. It’s Nick. It has to be. The faint rustling of leaves pulls my attention to the huge oak tree that stands tall and strong, its branches reaching for the sky.
He’s there, standing by the tree, his back to me. My breath catches. This isn’t the Nick I’ve seen before—the man who looked decades older than the brother I grew up with. No, this is Nick as I remember him: young, vibrant, and full of life.
“Nick!” I want to call out, but my voice falters. Something inside me hesitates. What if he can’t hear me? What if this is just another fragment of a dream?
As though he feels my presence, Nick turns. His eyes widen, and I know—this is my brother. My real brother.
“Arwen!” he calls, his voice carrying that familiar warmth, tinged with urgency.
I don’t think. My feet move on their own, and I run toward him as he does the same. When we collide, his arms wrap tightly around me, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappears.
“Nick,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “I missed you! How are you? Where have you been?”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration. “I’m fucked up, Arwen. I need to get out of here.”
My hands grip his arms, searching his face for answers. “Have you figured out where and when you are now?”
He nods grimly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I have... and I’m positive I’m not in the same time—or maybe even the same place—as you.”
My heart sinks at his words, the weight of their meaning hitting me like a punch to the gut. Before I can ask more, his gaze flickers over my shoulder, and his grip on me tightens.
“We don’t have much time,” he says urgently. “There’s something you need to know—”
But before he can finish, the world around us begins to blur and fade, like smoke dissipating into the wind.
“Nick, wait!” I cry, reaching out for him.
“Arwen, remember—” His voice echoes faintly as his form dissolves, and I am yanked back into the waking world.
I sit up in bed with a gasp, my heart pounding as though I’ve just run a marathon. My hands clutch at the blanket, and for a moment, I can still feel Nick’s embrace, hear the desperation in his voice.
The door to the room creaks open, and Diarmid’s face pales as his eyes widen, shocked to see me glowing faintly in the dim light.
Diarmid rushes to my side, his expression frantic. "Arwen!" he exclaims, his voice laced with panic. "You’re glowing—just like Michael! What’s happening?"
I nod shakily, though tears threaten to spill again. “I’m fine. Just... just a dream.”
Diarmid crosses the room in two strides, sitting beside me and pulling me into his arms without hesitation. His warmth, his steady presence, grounds me, but my mind is still racing.
Because this wasn’t just a dream. It couldn’t be.
Nick is out there—somewhere. And he needs me.