Chapter 3

My breath jammed in my throat as I stumbled back. "No...This can't be real."

The once comforting scent of home now suffocated me, the walls closing in. No matter how hard I tried, the stranger in the mirror wouldn't leave.

I turned to face Mum, another wave of panic surging through me. My heart hammered against my ribs as the room seemed to tilt and spin around me. "Turn it off!" I pleaded, a scream trapped and clawing inside me. "Make it go away. Now!"

"Try to breathe, honey. Just breathe." Her words cut through the static filling my ears. She touched my bracelet, uttering a word unfamiliar to me, and the frantic girl in the mirror morphed back into the Riley I recognised. Yet, inside, my frantic thoughts still spun chaotically.

Lucien's reaction—or lack of—only made it worse. He seemed unfazed by what he had just seen. His steady gaze held no judgment, only empathy. As if this was...normal.

Bending over, I clasped my knees, fighting the nausea that rose with each burning breath. "How is this happening?"

Gentle hands grasped my shoulders, my dad gently rubbing my back. "I know this is a shock, sweet pea. Try to take slow, deep breaths," he said, his presence a soothing balm as I grappled with the panic seizing me.

With each trembling inhale, the room slowly steadied. When I finally managed to lift my head, he helped me to the sofa, where Mum wept quietly.

"This is a lot to take in, Auri. I'm sorry," Dad murmured, his eyes full of warmth and concern. "Let me explain. Do you remember when you were little, how we pretended we were magicians? The tricks we did that amazed you?"

I nodded, unsure where he was going with that. Magic had always been my parents' fascination–a household filled with books and artifacts that wouldn't look out of place in a Charmed episode. Their tricks looked so real, and I never figured out how they did them.

But everyone had unusual hobbies, right? Mine involved guns and kicking the crap out of grown-ass men, so who was I to judge?

Dad sighed. "The truth is, we haven't been fully honest with you." His eyes crinkled with pain, and Mum turned away, stifling a sob. "Those tricks weren't illusions. Your mother and I... we're what you'd call warlocks. We have magical abilities linked to the demon blood inside us, which allows us to do many things that aren't humanly possible."

Warlocks?

A mirthless laugh escaped my lips; my dad was clearly not serious about this. How could he be? The idea that magic existed, let alone that my parents were some sort of wizards with... what did he call it? Ah, yes, demon blood. All of that was absurd.

Had Blondie here drugged them?

"Are you serious? Warlocks, demons, real magic?" I scoffed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "This is too far-fetched."

"Sweetheart, trust me, we discussed many times whether we should have told you all of this years ago, but we simply wanted to protect you and give you a normal life." He threaded a hand through his long hair. "You had already lost your family, so we wanted to take the pain away."

"Take the pain away?" I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "What does that mean?"

"You were never just a human child, Auri. Your unique hair, the birthmark, that growl, it all pointed to your shifter heritage."

"Shifter? As in shapeshifters?" This was going too far now.

"Yes. We had to understand what happened to you and your family, and we did it the only way we could." He looked into my eyes, looking for understanding. "We tapped into your memories. You were only three, but everything from the accident was inside your mind. Your family's car careening off the road, the other vehicle forcing you off... It was all there."

My dad paused, the anguish in his eyes evident. Like whatever he was seeing was happening right in front of him. No matter how crazy what he was telling me sounded, the possibility that even a fragment of it could be true made every fiber of my being come to a standstill.

"The people who killed your parents," he continued with a heavy sigh, "they came to get your family once your car had stopped tumbling."

A cold shiver ran down my spine, the horror of the scene he described slowly sinking in.

"Your mum and dad... they didn't survive the crash. But you were alive and terrified. And there was a boy with you. He was just as scared, trying desperately to reach you through the debris as you sat strapped into your car seat."

A boy? Confusion swirled within me, mingling with the growing sense of dread. Who was he? The authorities never mentioned finding anyone else. Just me and my biological parents.

"His instinct to survive must have kicked in," Dad said, a note of understanding in his voice, "because his wolf took over for self-preservation. He shifted and ran away."

Now it was Lucien's turn to look shocked and pained, like he understood what my dad was talking about.

"The men who attacked, they found you in the wreckage," Dad explained, pacing the room with restless energy. "They wanted to take you, but first, they had to neutralize your wolf." He stopped, running a hand through his hair, his expression fraught. "You see, shifter children typically start shifting later in life. But extreme danger or trauma can trigger an early shift as a primal defense mechanism."

I tried to wrap my head around his crazy talk, but my head was spinning. Every next thing he said was more insane than the previous ones.

"That's what saved your brother–he managed to shift and escape. But before you could do the same, those lowlives hurt your wolf, incapacitating it." His voice broke, and he turned away, his body tense with barely contained rage. "Luckily, the paramedics' arrival forced them to abandon their plan, so they had to flee. The rest of the story you know."

Before I could process it all, Mum took over again.

"After we accessed your memories, we realized the danger you were still in—from those who killed your parents, those who sent them, even from innocent humans who might notice something... different about you." Anguish creased her face. "We had to protect you, darling. It was our only thought."

"What are you talking about?"

She gestured to the bracelet on my wrist. "This wasn't just a piece of jewelry; it was a shield, a spell to conceal your true nature. A protection bracelet. For twenty-four years, it's kept you safe from our world's dangers. Aside from a few minor incidents at your work, you were unharmed."

Blinking, I grappled with the ludicrous revelations. Warlocks, shifters, missing brother, murdered parents, magic... This had to be a hallucination; too bizarre and vivid to be anything but a nightmare.

The tension that had been building inside me snapped, and all I could do was burst out laughing.

"Let's say I believe you," I said, my tone laced with sarcasm and mockery, neither of which escaped my mum and dad's attention, both of them lacking their usual confidence. "You went through my memories, witnessed my birth parents' murder, and chose never to tell me?"

"We were trying to give you a fresh start," Dad pleaded. "A chance at a normal, happy life."

"Happy? How could you expect happiness when you've kept the truth from me?" I spat, temper flaring fast before reason reined it in.

Get a grip, Riley. Why give credence to their deluded ravings? None of it was real, after all.

"Fine, let's assume shapeshifters are real, and I'm one of them." The words felt foreign on my tongue, and the idea seemed ludicrous, even unbearable, to consider when it came from my own parents. Yet, the haunting image of the wolf outside my house flickered in my mind, unsettling the firm ground of my skepticism.

I shook my head, shoving down the creeping doubt. "If this is all true, then what about my shifter side? What happened to my animal?"

Dad looked away, distress etched in his features. "Auri, we're so sorry, but she didn't make it. When we found you, the bond was there, but the trauma and the injuries..." He trailed off, unable to continue.

"She was suffering, honey, and so were you," my mum said, almost inaudible, as her eyes glistened. "The bond between shifter and animal is deeply woven, affecting both. You were too young, the connection was not as strong yet, so we had no choice..." She struggled to maintain composure, clearing her throat to continue. "We had to serve it. It was the only way to spare you more agony."

A lone howl, one that came from Lucien, broke the silence in the room, but I was more stunned by the sudden feeling that there was a piece of my soul missing. A loss that I couldn't comprehend, one that felt disconcertingly real, piercing something deep inside me. Like losing someone I'd never met.

No. I refused to acknowledge the hollow ache. Don't spiral over fantasy stories.

I crossed my arms like armour. "Of course, she's dead. How terribly convenient." My sarcasm lashed out, a shield against my crumbling grasp on reality. I couldn't afford to shatter, so I clung to anger instead. "And this brother of mine... Where is he? How come he never looked for me?"

Lucien flinched under the sting of my words. Slowly, he rose from his seat and took a step towards me. There was guilt in his eyes. Pain. Yet, none of that was enough to make me forget the question gnawing at me—what was his role in all of this?

"I never stopped searching for you, Aurelie," he rasped, halting just shy of me.

Blood rushed to my head as I tried to maintain reason amidst the insanity swirling around me. Was he trying to say that he was my brother?

"You?"

"I was only five when it all happened. Too young to understand, yet old enough to know that my family was gone and that I needed to find you, yet I didn't even know where to start. As I grew, I followed every lead, chased every hint of you." His tone grew rough with emotion, yet his eyes never left mine. "It took me until now to track down Seraphine and Victor. They didn't trust me when I contacted them last week, and I don't blame them—they'd seen what you and I had gone through. I owe them everything for putting your safety above everything else. But now I'm here, and I won't lose you again."

His declaration hung in the air, heavy with implications.

If he truly was my sibling, did he expect to just show up out of the blue and make everything right with his mere presence? That we would pick everything up right from where we had left off?

Bitterness coiled inside me. He knew nothing about me or my life—the struggles, triumphs, and hard-won strength. Shared blood didn't mandate instant bonds or affection.

The urge to lash out, to inflict some semblance of the torment I felt, was overwhelming.

"You come here claiming to be my brother—one I never knew existed—and yet I don't know the simplest things about you. What do you want from me? Open arms and a heartfelt reunion?"

To my surprise, he didn't back off, despite my hostility.

"Well, if that's what you need to consider hearing me out, fine." Determination burned in his gaze. "My name is Lucien Moreau, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack in Scotland and son of Margot and Matthew Moreau. Our mother led our wolf pack until her death, and our father was her loyal Beta. And you, Aurelie, are my baby sister."

He looked at me, searching for a reaction or recognition on my part, but there was nothing. None of it sounded familiar. And why should it? It was all crazy talk from the three of them.

"Earning your trust isn't going to be easy, I know that," he continued, his voice softer now. "But I'm here to stay, for as long as it takes."

I struggled to breathe, to think. I just wanted to continue laughing. Perhaps if I laughed enough, I would wake up from this nightmare.

Then Mum moved closer, her touch light on my temples. "It's time to remember, darling."

As soon as she said it, my mind flooded with memories. My memories. I had no idea how I knew, but I did.

Images swirled in my mind: a young boy, Lucien, his grin wide and carefree, standing alongside our parents. My mother's beauty was striking, her smile tender; and my father had the most charming smile. The faces of people and wolves playing with Lucien and me by the shores of a lake flashed in my mind, a sense of belonging whispering to me that this was my pack.

But that happiness was shattered when the accident played out before me. My body tensed reflexively. The stark image of a tattoo on the wrist of a man reaching into the mangled car to neutralize my animal spirit imprinted itself in my mind.

Then, she emerged from the depths of my mind—my wolf, prowling from the misty woods. Luscious black fur with shimmering silver tips that glowed like starlight against the darker coat. I wanted to bury my hands in her fur, to feel the warmth of her presence. Her amber eyes met mine, a silent connection sparking between us.

Until the realisation that she was dead hit me. The grief was a crushing weight, squeezing the air out of my lungs enough to snap me out of my daze.

I looked up to find Mum, Dad, and the man claiming to be my brother watching me. They looked worried and distressed at the sight of me appearing so broken. What had they expected? That I would smile and be elated about everything taken away from me?

Before I knew it, my heart tightened like an invisible hand was squeezing it inside my body. I felt so lost, so helpless. All I wanted was to crumble into pieces on the floor.

"Aurelie, darling." I barely noticed my mother talking to me. "You need to breathe."

Every shredded fibre of my will focused on pulling air into my lungs until the vice around my heart eased a fraction, bringing back a semblance of control. But I couldn't stand another second under their weighted stares, full of sympathy and apologies that changed nothing.

"I can't do this," I choked out. Spinning on my heel, I bolted outside of the house, desperate to escape their insanity.

The train station was far from my parents' place, but I ran until I reached it, not caring that I'd abandoned my car in their drive. Only once I slumped into the train seat, heading back to London, did the tightness in my chest begin to ease.

Pulling out my phone, my fingers trembled as I typed a message to Scarlett, needing someone normal now. Someone real I could still trust.

Riley: Scar, I need you. My place in two hours. Bring loads of alcohol.