Chapter 41 Fourty one
The air outside the estate felt different.
Lighter.
The heavy tension of the house, thick with ceremony preparations and unspoken expectations, faded the moment Harper stepped beyond the gates with Koda and Kai on either side of her.
The forest path stretched ahead, sun filtering through tall trees, golden light dancing across the ground. It was early afternoon—warm but not stifling. Birds called overhead. The wind carried the scent of pine and distant water.
For a moment, it felt normal.
Almost.
“So,” Kai said casually, hands tucked into his pockets, “where exactly are we going?”
Koda walked slightly ahead of them, relaxed, unhurried. “Somewhere you’ll like.”
Kai narrowed his eyes. “That’s vague.”
“That’s the point.”
Harper rolled her eyes lightly. “You both are exhausting already.”
Koda glanced over his shoulder at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You agreed to this.”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize it would come with commentary.”
Kai gave her a side look. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Define fine.”
She stopped walking and stared at him. “Kai.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay.”
Koda watched the exchange carefully, something unreadable flickering in his gaze before he turned forward again.
They followed the path deeper into the woods until the sound of rushing water grew louder.
Harper’s expression softened slightly when the trees opened up to reveal a wide river clearing. Sunlight reflected off the water’s surface, sparkling brightly. Smooth rocks lined the banks, and a fallen tree stretched across part of the river like a natural bridge.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Koda looked pleased. “You used to like this place.”
She blinked. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
The way he said it was… odd.
Too deliberate.
Kai noticed too.
“That’s a bit intense,” Kai muttered.
Koda’s lips curved faintly. “Is it?”
Harper stepped closer to the water, crouching to trail her fingers along the cool surface. The current tugged gently at her skin.
“This is nice,” she admitted.
Kai walked over and nudged her shoulder lightly. “Race you to the other side.”
“What? No—”
He didn’t wait.
He stepped onto the fallen tree and began balancing across it, arms out slightly for stability.
“Kai!” she laughed despite herself.
Koda stepped beside her. “He’s going to fall.”
“Am not!” Kai called back.
As if summoned by fate, his foot slipped slightly on damp bark.
Harper gasped.
Koda didn’t move.
Kai regained his balance at the last second and shot them both a glare. “I meant to do that.”
“Sure,” Harper teased.
She stood and carefully stepped onto the log herself. It wobbled slightly beneath her weight.
“Careful,” Kai said, now standing on the opposite side.
“I’m fine.”
Halfway across, her balance faltered slightly.
Before she could fall, the log steadied unnaturally.
The water beneath her rippled violently for half a second—then calmed.
She reached the other side quickly.
Kai’s brows lifted. “Did you just—”
“I didn’t do anything,” she said too quickly.
Koda stepped onto the log last. He crossed it effortlessly, gaze flicking briefly to Harper as he reached them.
“You’re improving,” he said quietly.
Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Improving?”
“Control,” Koda clarified.
“Since when are you her mentor?”
“Since she needs one.”
Harper blinked between them. “Excuse me?”
Kai stepped closer to Koda. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before.”
Koda’s gaze flickered briefly—too briefly.
“Maybe I have.”
Kai scoffed. “Right.”
Harper quickly moved ahead before they could escalate.
On the far side of the clearing sat an abandoned wooden structure—an old riverside cabin long unused.
She pushed the door open cautiously.
Dust floated in the air as sunlight streamed through cracked windows.
“Oh, this is creepy,” she muttered.
“Perfect,” Kai said. “Let’s explore.”
Koda stepped inside slowly, eyes scanning the interior with an intensity that made Kai watch him instead of the room.
“You know,” Koda said casually, running his fingers along the dusty table, “places like this hold memories.”
Kai folded his arms. “You’ve never been here.”
Koda tilted his head slightly. “Not in this life.”
The words fell heavy.
Harper froze.
Kai’s expression sharpened instantly. “What did you just say?”
Koda’s lips curved faintly. “Relax. It was a joke.”
“That wasn’t funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Harper’s heart skipped uneasily.
“Koda,” she said cautiously, “what do you mean by that?”
He looked at her differently then—softer, but deeper. “Some things repeat,” he murmured. “Cycles. Bonds. Choices.”
Kai stepped closer. “You’re being weird.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
Koda’s gaze drifted briefly to Harper again before he shrugged lightly. “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”
Kai didn’t buy it.
They moved deeper into the cabin, poking through old drawers and laughing when a mouse darted out from beneath a broken chair.
Harper yelped and jumped back instinctively—straight into Koda.
He caught her easily.
For a split second, their bodies were pressed close.
Her breath hitched.
His hand lingered slightly longer than necessary at her waist.
“You’re jumpy,” he murmured near her ear.
She stepped away quickly. “It was a mouse.”
Kai watched the exchange carefully.
“Alright,” Kai said abruptly, clapping his hands once. “New plan. We’re not dying of boredom in a haunted shack.”
“Your idea,” Harper muttered.
Kai grinned. “River swim.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s freezing!”
“Exactly.”
Before she could protest further, Kai grabbed her wrist and bolted back toward the water.
“Kai!” she shrieked, laughing despite herself.
He splashed into the river first, sending water flying everywhere.
Koda walked out more slowly, watching them.
“Get in!” Harper called at him.
He stepped into the water without hesitation.
Unlike Kai, he didn’t flinch at the cold.
Harper splashed Kai first.
He retaliated immediately.
Soon water was flying in every direction, laughter echoing across the clearing.
For a while, it felt easy.
Normal.
Kai dove under and resurfaced behind her, splashing her again.
“Unfair!”
“Life isn’t fair!”
Koda moved closer, water rippling around him.
“You’re distracted,” he said quietly to her.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Kai swam between them suddenly. “Okay, what is that supposed to mean?”
Koda looked at him calmly. “You’re loud.”
“And?”
“And noise hides things.”
Kai stared at him. “You’re definitely acting strange.”
Koda smirked faintly. “You’re noticing now?”
“Noticing what?”
Koda didn’t answer.
Instead, he flicked water toward Harper’s face lightly.
She blinked at him.
There was something different about him today.
Confident.
But layered.
Like he knew something neither she nor Kai did.
“You keep saying weird stuff,” Kai said flatly.
Koda shrugged. “Maybe tonight will explain.”
Kai’s jaw tightened. “Explain what?”
Koda’s golden eyes flicked briefly upward toward the sky, though the sun still shone bright.
“Everything.”
Harper’s chest tightened.
The laughter had softened now.
The fun had shifted.
Kai stepped closer, voice lower. “If you’re planning something—”
“Planning?” Koda interrupted, amused. “You think I need to plan?”
“That’s not reassuring.”
Koda leaned slightly toward him. “You’re worried.”
“I’m cautious.”
“Same thing.”
Harper stepped between them again instinctively.
“Stop,” she said firmly. “We came out here to relax.”
Koda’s gaze softened instantly when it fell on her.
“You’re right.”
Kai didn’t miss that shift.
They spent another hour by the river—racing across rocks, teasing each other, daring each other to jump from higher ledges into deeper water.
Harper laughed more than she had in days.
But every time she looked at Koda—
He was watching her.
Not possessively.
Not obviously.
But intentionally.
And Kai noticed every single time.
As the sun began to dip slightly lower, casting longer shadows through the trees, the energy shifted again.
“Time to head back,” Kai said.
Koda nodded slowly.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Time.”
Harper wrung water from her shirt lightly. “You’re both being dramatic.”
Kai gave her a look. “You feel it too.”
She hesitated.
Yes.
The air felt heavier.
Anticipation thickened.
Koda glanced at the sky once more.
“The moon will be beautiful tonight,” he murmured.
Kai stared at him. “You sound like you’re waiting for something specific.”
Koda’s smirk returned.
“Maybe I am.”
Harper’s pulse quickened.
On the walk back, the teasing returned—but softer now, layered with something unspoken.
Kai bumped her shoulder playfully.
Koda brushed his hand briefly against hers when Kai wasn’t looking.
And beneath it all—
Suspicion simmered.
Kai didn’t trust the calm in Koda’s voice.
Harper didn’t understand the certainty in his eyes.
And Koda—
Koda walked as if tonight was already decided.
—
Koda closed his bedroom door quietly behind him.
The hallway outside was alive with distant movement—servants adjusting decorations, footsteps echoing faintly, voices carrying in low anticipation for the Bloom Moon. But inside his room, there was silence.
Stillness.
He walked slowly toward the large mirror mounted against the far wall. The late afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting long golden shadows across the floor.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Looking at himself.
Golden eyes.
Calm expression.
Perfectly normal.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Then—
His eyes shifted.
The gold darkened at the edges.
Deepened.
Bled into crimson.
A sharp, unnatural red.
The air in the room seemed to tighten.
His reflection tilted its head slightly—though he had not moved.
A low chuckle slipped from his throat.
“Smart move,” he murmured to the mirror.
The reflection’s smile widened.
“Very smart.”
His voice dropped lower—colder.
“Breaking the chains was necessary.”
He flexed his fingers slowly, studying them as if testing the skin.
“They made it too easy.”
The laugh that followed was not warm.
Not human.
“An entire pack,” he mused, pacing slowly in front of the mirror, “and not one of them realized.”
He stopped again, staring at the reflection.
Golden eyes flickered—
Red again.
Then gold.
Then red.
Back and forth like a faulty flame.
“They couldn’t even tell,” he continued, amused. “Not the Alpha. Not Samantha. Not the guards.”
A slow grin stretched across his face.
“Not even the brothers.”
The reflection leaned forward slightly.
“You played it well,” it whispered.
He tilted his head. “I always do.”
His laughter echoed softly through the room.
“Act calm. Act controlled. Say the right things. Look at her just enough.”
His eyes darkened again.
“Make him suspicious—but not certain.”
He ran a hand through his hair, studying the face staring back at him.
“It wasn’t me,” he said softly, almost mockingly.
The reflection’s red eyes glowed brighter.
“It was never me.”
He leaned closer to the mirror until his breath fogged the glass.
“They’re so focused on fate,” he whispered. “On mates. On ceremonies.”
A smirk tugged at his lips.
“They don’t even realize what they’ve already let inside.”
The crimson in his eyes pulsed once more.
“Tonight will be interesting.”
He let out another low, delighted laugh.
“Innocent little Harper,” he murmured. “So much power. So much potential.”
His smile sharpened.
“She doesn’t even know what she’s carrying.”
The reflection’s grin stretched unnaturally wide for a split second—too wide.
Then it snapped back to normal.
He straightened slowly.
Golden eyes returned.
Warm.
Controlled.
Perfect.
A knock sounded faintly down the hallway.
He glanced toward the door.
Composed.
Calm.
The faintest hint of red lingered at the center of his pupils before fading completely.
“They will never find out,” he said softly.
The mirror showed only Koda.
Normal.
Familiar.
Believable.
He smiled once more.
And this time—
There was nothing human in it.