MIA'S POV
As I walked away from the crowd, Tristan's words about the white wolf
echoed in my mind. Could it be true? Could I really be a white wolf, a
reincarnation of the moon goddess herself? It sounded impossible, like
something out of a legend. But then again, nothing about my life had
been normal.
"Ima," I thought, reaching out to her through the mind link. "Is it true?
Am I… a white wolf?"
Her voice was calm and steady when it came. "Yes, Mia. You are a white
wolf, the vortex wolf. That's why you survived. That's why your body
heals faster than most. It's why you feel this strength building inside
you. It's who you are."
Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of her words sank in. "I
could've died," I whispered. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here."
"You wouldn't have died easily, Mia," Ima assured me. "Your body and
spirit are built to endure far more than you can imagine. But yes, I was
there, helping you, protecting you. And I always will be."
The tears slipped down my cheeks, a mix of relief and overwhelming
gratitude washing over me. My legs felt weak, and I leaned against the
wall to steady myself.
Tristan noticed my sudden change in demeanor and approached me.
"Are you okay?"
I quickly wiped at my face, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… tired.
It's been a long night."
He studied me for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "You don't
look fine. You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your
shoulders."
I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "It's nothing. Just a lot on my mind."
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. "If you're feeling
this way, you shouldn't go back tonight. Stay here. Get some rest. You
look like you need it."
I hesitated. The thought of going back to the house, facing the brothers
and their unpredictable moods, made my stomach churn. Staying here
felt like the safer, better option.
"Are you sure it's okay?" I asked.
"Of course," Tristan replied. "There's no rush to get back to that mess.
Besides, I'd rather you stay here and rest than push yourself."
"You're not going home tonight," he said. "You're staying here. You
need rest, and I'm not letting you deal with your stepbrothers after
everything."
I hesitated, the thought of facing Nathan and the others making my
stomach churn. "I don't know. What about Diego?"
"I'll talk to him," Tristan assured me. "You don't need to worry about
them. Let me handle it."
His confidence was reassuring, and I found myself nodding. "Okay. I'll
stay."
He smiled and motioned for me to follow him upstairs. The house was
quieter on the upper floors, the noise of the party fading as we climbed
the grand staircase.
, he opened the door to a room that took my breath away.
It was like stepping into a dream. The walls were painted in soft shades
of lavender and cream, colors that instantly calmed me. A large bed with
a plush comforter sat in the center of the room, surrounded by
bookshelves filled with novels and trinkets. Paintings of serene
landscapes adorned the walls, and a delicate dreamcatcher hung by the
window, its feathers swaying gently in the breeze.
I turned to Tristan, my eyes wide. "This is… beautiful. How did you-"
"I thought you'd like it," he said, his lips curving into a smile. "It
reminded me of you-calm, thoughtful, and full of quiet strength."
My heart swelled at his words. It was as if this room had been made for
me, tailored to my every unspoken dream.
I stepped inside, running my fingers over the edge of the bed. "It's
perfect."
He lingered in the doorway, watching me with a small smile. "You
should rest, Mia. You've been through a lot."
I turned to thank him again, but as I took a step forward, my foot caught
on the edge of the rug. I stumbled, my arms flailing as I lost my balance.
Before I could hit the ground, Tristan moved lightning-fast, catching me
by the waist. The momentum, however, sent us both tumbling backward.
I landed on top of him, my hands braced against his chest.
For a moment, everything froze. My heart pounded as I realized our faces
were just inches apart. Then I felt it-my lips brushing against his in the
lightest, most accidental kiss.
My cheeks burned as I scrambled to push myself up. "I-I'm so sorry. I
didn't mean to-"
"I guess I really am clumsy," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
His hands gently gripped my waist, keeping me in place. "Don't
apologize," he murmured, his eyes locked on mine.
I blinked, my breath hitching as I took in the intensity of his gaze.
"You have no idea how hard it's been, watching you tonight," he
continued, his voice soft yet deliberate. "You look… breathtaking. And
now, being this close to you…"
I felt like my heart was about to burst out of my chest. "Tristan, I-"
He cut me off, his hand moving to cup my cheek. "Your lips," he said, his
thumb brushing against the corner of my mouth. "Soft, pink, and so
incredibly tempting. How am I supposed to resist?"
My blush deepened, and I tried to look away, but his fingers tilted my
chin back toward him. "Mia," he whispered, his breath warm against my
skin, "can I kiss you?"
I couldn't speak. All I could do was nod.
The kiss was gentle at first, as if he were giving me a chance to pull away.
But when I didn't, he deepened it, his hand moving to the back of my
neck to hold me in place.
I melted into him, my hands gripping his shirt as the world seemed to
fade away. The worries, the fears, the chaos of the night-they all
disappeared, leaving just the two of us in this moment.
"Your lips," he said, his tone soft but intense. "They're… perfect. Soft,
warm, like they were made to be kissed."