Zara kept going, relentless. “London found us. They arrested me for harboring him and dragged him out.” Her hands curled into fists. “I remembered the truck that took him. The city painted on the bumper.”
She looked straight into the fire when she said it, probably seeing the letters burned behind her eyes.
“They’d taken him to Dublin.”
A gust of wind shifted the smoke. The fire popped. For a moment none of us spoke.
“So, I told Magnus and the others, and they agreed we’d go, even knowing how dangerous Dublin was. They promised that we’d find him.” She glanced sideways at me, her eyes bright. “And we did. Eventually.” Then she turned toward Sera. “Your turn.”
Sera stared into the fire for a long moment before she spoke, like she had to decide which parts of herself she was willing to reveal.
“I grew up in London too,” she began. “My brother Jacob was killed when I was eleven. A wolf shifter tore him apart.”
Zara’s face softened, just a fraction.
Sera didn’t look at either of us. “After that, I joined the Watch… the organization that hunted wolves. I trained. I became good at it. Too good.”
There was no pride in her words. Just simple fact.
“Then I was sent to Dublin to hunt Logan Yorke,” she continued. “And when I found him, I tried to kill him.”
Zara’s mouth tightened. “You tried to shoot him.”
“Yes,” Sera said simply. Her hands flexed once on her knees. “I thought wolves were monsters wearing human faces. I thought I was doing the world a favor.”
She finally looked up then, eyes bright with emotion. “Then the mate bond happened.”
My brows rose. “That sounds like the worst possible timing.”
Sera snorted. “Tell me about it.”
She gestured vaguely. “I ran. They chased me. Logan, Jamie, and Edward, all of them claiming they were my mates.” Her cheeks went faintly pink, which surprised me more than anything she’d said so far. “Aidan and Declan came later.”
For a beat, the fire was the only sound, then they both turned to look at me
“My turn then?” I said quietly.
Both of them nodded.
I turned away and stared into the fire, watching the embers glow, then took a deep breath.
“I grew up on the Isle of Skye,” I began. “We had something rare there.”
“What do you mean?” Zara asked softly.
I swallowed. “Humans and wolves lived together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. No wolf went feral. People worked the land. Hunted. Fished. Shared food. Shared watch rotations. Just shared life,” I nodded, the memory of home taking me over in an instant.
Sera’s eyes narrowed. “London would’ve hated that.”
“They did,” I said. “On my fifteenth birthday, the British came with ships and guns. They came with an army. They wiped out most of my people.”
Zara’s face softened. “Your parents?”
“They died,” I spoke plainly, trying not to let my voice shake with grief. “They burned our commune. They killed wolves and humans alike. I escaped with Griff.”
Zara and Sera stayed quiet, letting me tell my story.
I took a breath. “After Skye, I couldn’t accept the lie that all wolves go feral. I’d seen that it wasn’t true. I’d lived it. So, I started the Accord, with Griff, quietly at first. We smuggled wolves out of London. Provided safehouses for those that needed it.”
