CHAPTER ONE
GHOST IN THE RAIN
POV: Meira
The rain came in sheets, hammering the windows of Meira's office hard enough to rattle the glass in their frames. She didn't look up from the young woman trembling on the examination table before her, didn't let the storm distract her from the mottled bruises blooming across pale skin like poisonous flowers.
"This might sting," Meira murmured, her voice soft as she placed her palms over the worst of the damage—a cluster of finger-shaped marks along Lena's ribs where someone had grabbed her hard enough to crack bone.
The girl—nineteen, wolf-wild and hollow-eyed—flinched anyway.
Meira's Omega magic rose without her calling it, a warm golden glow beneath her skin that spread from her hands into the broken places. She felt the fractures knitting, the deep tissue bruising fading from purple to yellow to nothing. Her fingers trembled slightly as she worked. They always did, these days. Every wounded shifter who found their way to Grey Pines Sanctuary was a reminder of the one she couldn't save.
The one she'd killed.
"You're safe here," Meira said, pulling her hands back as the last of the visible damage disappeared. The internal wounds—the ones that didn't show on skin—those would take longer."No one will touch you without your permission. That's the first rule of this place."
Lena's throat worked as she swallowed, her gaze skating away from Meira's face to fix on the fire crackling in the stone hearth."Do you ever let anyone take care of you?"
The question landed like a blow to the solar plexus. Meira's breath caught, her hands curling into fists against her thighs. She forced a smile that felt like glass cutting her mouth."I'm fine. Let's focus on getting you settled in one of the cabins. Tess will—"
The room tilted.
Not physically. The floor stayed solid beneath her feet, the walls remained upright, but Meira's vision grayed at the edges as memory slammed into her with the force of a freight train.
Seven years ago. The clearing in the deep woods, moss-soft ground beneath her knees. Callum's weight in her arms, his blood hot and slick between her fingers. His grey eyes—always so fierce, so alive—going dark and distant as the curse ate him from the inside out.
"Meira." His voice had been a rasp, his hand lifting to cup her face even as his strength failed."Don't. Please. I'd rather burn with you than—"
"I love you," she'd whispered, and driven the silver blade between his ribs.
"Ma'am? Meira?"
Lena's voice dragged her back to the present. Meira blinked, tasting copper and ash on her tongue—phantom sensations from a memory seven years old and still sharp enough to draw blood. Her hands were shaking worse now, trembling so hard she had to press them flat against the examination table to hide it.
"Sorry." The word came out rough. She cleared her throat, straightened her spine, pulled the healer's mask back into place."Sorry. I'm fine. Let's get you to Tess."
She helped Lena down from the table, wrapped a blanket around the girl's shoulders, and guided her out of the healing house into the rain-soaked evening. The main lodge loomed ahead, lights warm in the windows, smoke curling from the massive stone chimney. Home. Or the closest thing Meira had allowed herself to have in seven years of self-imposed exile.
Tess met them on the porch—tall, broad-shouldered, with the practical competence of a beta wolf who'd seen too much and survived it anyway. She took one look at Meira's face and frowned, but didn't comment. Not in front of Lena.
"Got a cabin ready," Tess said, slinging an arm around the younger woman's shoulders."Come on, kid. Let's get you dry and fed."
Meira watched them disappear into the lodge, listened to the rumble of voices and the clatter of dishes from the communal kitchen. Seventeen shifters called Grey Pines home now. Seventeen broken things she'd helped put back together, piece by piece.
It still wasn't enough.
It would never be enough.
She turned away from the light and warmth, headed back through the rain to her private cabin on t
