Leah's POV
Ryan stood beside me, his shadow stretching long and dark across the ground, his presence a quiet menace I couldn't shake.
"We're not sure if these resurrected beasts can remember their old lives," he said, his voice low, cutting through the wind like a dulled knife. "None of us can talk to those two steppenwolves. No way to know if they're still the ancient creatures that once roamed this damned continent."
I didn't answer right away, just let his words sink into me, heavy as wet earth. My mind churned, a mess of curiosity and something sharper - something that gnawed at my gut. Then let me find out, I thought, the idea blooming like a bruise. If anyone could peel back the truth from those wolves, it'd be me. I'd survived worse than resurrected ghosts.
I shifted my weight, my boots scuffing the stone path, and glanced at him. "I'm sorry about your wife," I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "Her situation, I mean."
Ryan shook his head, a slow, deliberate motion that made the breeze tease his dark hair across his brow. "I don't need to resurrect her," he murmured, his voice rough with something broken. "She's been right here..." He thumped his chest, left side, hard enough I heard the dull thud. "Never left. I've got all the beautiful memories of her stitched into me." A bitter smile twisted his lips, and he dropped his gaze, staring at nothing. "At least, that's the bullshit I feed myself every day to keep breathing."
The wind raked over his face then, tugging at that handsome, melancholy mask he wore. I knew that look—recognized it like the back of my scarred hands. It was a war, reason clawing at emotion, a love he'd never hold again rotting into regret, then curdling into something uglier. Infatuation. Hatred. Lucas' face flared in my mind, unbidden, his sharp grin slicing through me like it always did. I ripped my eyes away from Ryan, fixing them on the clear sky instead, the vastness of it swallowing me whole.
"So this project," I said, my voice steady despite the storm in my chest, "it's just us using DNA to drag back humanity's obsession with what's dead and gone. Because we can't let go, can we?"
Ryan turned to me, his eyes catching the fading light, and a faint smile ghosted over his mouth. "What we do is rational," he said, his tone clipped, precise. "Scientists walk a tightrope between reason and feeling. The first rule of the game is never letting emotion win."
I studied him, this cold, restrained man who wielded life and death like a blade yet kept it sheathed. It was the starkest difference between him and Leo - Leo, who'd drown in desire without ever finding the shore of reason. There was something raw, something sexy, in Ryan's control, in the way he held himself taut against the chaos. My thoughts slipped, distracted, and I caught myself staring - too long, too hard. He glanced down, those sharp eyes pinning me, and heat prickled up my neck.
"I'm so sorry," I muttered, jerking my gaze away, fumbling with the damp handkerchief he'd lent me earlier. "For soiling this precious handkerchief."
He smiled then, a flash of warmth that cut through the dusk. "Better to use things than let them sit there reminding you of what's lost," he said. "It's my honor to help you, Mrs. Winters. Keep it, you might need it in the future."
That smile hit me like a fist, melting the ice I'd built around my heart. I felt it again -that wild, primal surge, the same flood that had crashed over me when I'd first locked eyes with Lucas. It roared through me, stripping away my defenses, raw and unrestrained. My pulse hammered, sweat beading on my skin. No, I snarled at myself, shaking my head hard. Not now. Not here.
Seth's text blinked across my retina screen, sharp and intrusive - Boss, you okay? Vital signs are spiking like hell. I shook my head again, as if I could shake the chaos loose.
Not now. Now is not the time for making my life more complicated. I have to focus.
The shuttle bus rolled up then, a sleek shadow cutting through the courtyard's stillness. Ryan offered his hand, steady and sure, and I took it, my legs still wobbly from the dizziness clawing at me. I leaned into him, too heavy, too close, and he half-carried me aboard, his grip firm against my trembling frame. The bus hummed to life, gliding through the towering white marble buildings - temples of science and secrets - until we reached an open stretch of land beyond.
From a distance, I saw it—a white wolf, its head poking out of the tall grass, eyes glinting like twin moons. Then another, smaller, nosing up beside it. They spotted me, ears twitching, bodies still as stone.
"Is that…?" the bigger one, Romulus, muttered to the smaller, his voice a low rumble in my mind.
"Shut up, Romulus," the little one snapped - Remus, sharp and commanding. "Stay calm. Let her speak first."
Romulus snorted, his snout wrinkling. "I don't know. She's so tiny. Can't be her."
Remus ignored him, leaping closer, his gaze raking over me like he was peeling back my skin. Romulus lumbered after, nearly crashing into him.
"Wow," Romulus said, sniffing the air. "She smells delicious."
Remus swatted him with a paw, a growl in his throat. "All you think about is food. Don't eat her, you idiot."
Ryan's voice cut in, soft beside me. "They're in a good mood today. Rare to see them this lively."
I stepped off the bus, my boots sinking into the earth, and moved toward them, drawn like a moth to a flame. Ryan reached out, his hand brushing my arm. "Careful!" he barked. "Don't get too close!"
Too late. I was already there, standing before them. The wolves froze, then straightened, bowing low, their ears folding back in a gesture that sent a shiver down my spine. I knelt, scooping them up, their fur soft and warm against my scarred hands. Through the Mindlink, I whispered, "Do you two… know me?"
Romulus jolted in my grip. "Holy shit, someone's in my head!"
"Shut up, Romulus," Remus hissed. "It's werewolf magic - thought-talk. Quit yapping; I can't hear her."
Remus fixed me with a steady stare, his voice grave. "The prophecy's real. You're back."
Romulus squirmed, nuzzling my chin, licking at me with a rough tongue. "Rub my head! Behind the ear!"
I set them down, sinking to the grass beside them, my fingers finding Romulus' ears. He flopped over, belly up, whining like a pup. Remus snorted, disgusted. "You're a disgrace, Romulus. Shaming our whole ancient line."
"What prophecy?" I demanded, my voice cracking like dry wood.
Remus sat up, regal despite his size. "Our pack's oracle said the Moon Goddess would come to us one day. We'd help her reclaim her throne, save all werewolves."
Romulus rolled to his feet, a bursting furball with energy. "We're warriors, brave and badass! Always at your service, Moon Goddess!"
The words hit me like a lash. The Moon Goddess? Regain the throne? My heart slammed against my ribs, sweat slicking my palms. No, that couldn't be right. Me, the Moon Goddess? Impossible!
Then, a more terrible thought came into my mind -
If I was the reincarnation of Moon Goddess, then who the hell was pulling the strings, twisting werewolf fate like a puppet master for a thousand years?!
I turned back and stared at Ryan, who was staring at me with concerns.
"Mr. Sawyer. Can you make ten thousand of them?" I asked.
"We sure can. But it will be a bit tricky to keep them…"
"Leave me to worry about that," I said. "I need ten thousand of them ready before the next full m... I mean, the end of month."
Ryan frowned and said, "Sure, Mrs. Winters. But still, you need to find a gigantic enclosure to accommodate them..."
"They are Dire Wolves, Mr. Sawyer," I picked these two cubs up and put them gently on my lap."You never put them in an enclosure. You set them free."