Chapter 26: Chapter 26

I stared at the small flame dancing in Ava’s hand. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that surely she could hear. Her eyes were bloodshot, wet with a fresh wave of tears. She looked like she had seen a ghost—or was about to become one.

"What is that for, Ava?" I whispered. The words felt thin, barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.

Ava’s gaze flickered from the silver lighter to me. A fresh sob racked her small frame. The flame trembled as she struggled to keep her hand steady.

"We... we have to burn them," she stammered, her voice thin with panic. She gestured wildly at the heap of my bloody dress on the floor. "The evidence! If the guards see this... if the Alpha sees the red on your skirt... they’ll think you’re a murderer! I have to hide it! I have to protect you!"

A pang of sadness tightened my chest. She was terrified for me—ready to burn the world down just to keep me safe. "Come here." I opened my arms.

Ava dropped the lighter onto the rug and scrambled into my embrace like a frightened child. She buried her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with violent sobs. I held her tight, rubbing her back in slow, steady circles.

"Nothing happened, Ava," I murmured. "I didn't kill anyone. I promise. It was just a fight with Mary. She’s injured, but she’s alive. Why are you crying like the world is ending?"

Ava pulled back, her face a mask of watery misery. "Luna Amanda! I was so scared! I saw all that blood and thought you were dying! I thought the Alpha would take you to the balcony and... and..." She choked on a fresh sob. "I’m sorry! I’m such a coward!"

I used my thumb to brush a tear from her cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for. But why this reaction? It was just a fight."

Ava took a shuddering breath and sank onto the edge of the bed. "I lost my parents," she whispered, her voice hollow. "It happened years ago, in the Great War. The vampires... they killed them right in front of me. I’ve been alone in this castle ever since."

She looked at me then, her eyes shining with an intensity that made me ache. "Being with you... it’s like having my mother back. You’re kind to me even when I’m a mess. I can see her in you, Amanda. I can’t lose you too."

A lump formed in my throat. I didn't realize I carried the ghost of her mother. "I'm here now," I said, though a warning bell rang in my head. "But Ava... don't love me too much. You don't really know me. I have secrets. Dark ones."

"I know all I need to know." Ava managed a small, shaky smile. "To me, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to this pack."

I gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. "Listen to me. You can't let the past haunt you like this. Life is brutal, Ava. You have to learn to detach yourself. If you don't find a way to be strong, the bad days will break you."

"I'll try," she promised, wiping her nose. "But first, stay still. Your face is a mess where she hit you."

She hurried to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of steaming water and a thick white towel. Steam curled into the air as she sat before me, dipping the cloth into the heat.

"This will help the swelling," she noted, her voice steadier now.

I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. I felt the hot dampness touch my cheek where Mary’s fist had connected. The heat was intense, almost stinging, but then—a sharp gasp cut through the quiet.

My eyes snapped open.

Ava was frozen. Her mouth hung open, and the towel slipped from her trembling fingers, splashing back into the bowl. She was staring at my face with an expression of pure horror.

"Luna..." she breathed, her face turning a ghostly shade of white. "The bruise... it's gone."

I lunged for the mirror on the wall. My heart stopped.

Seconds ago, my cheek had been a mottled mess of purple, blue, and angry swelling. Now, my skin was porcelain—smooth, white, and perfect. There wasn't a single mark. No blood. No trauma.

I had healed instantly. Right in front of her.

Ava’s gaze traveled from the mirror back to my face, dropping slowly to my mouth. Her eyes went wide as she stared at my lips, and a low, terrified whimper escaped her throat.

She wasn't just looking at my skin anymore. She was looking at the fangs that had begun to slip past my gums.