bCHAPTER /bb81 /b

The hallway outside Anastasia’s room was quiet, dust motes floatingzily through the morning sunbeams filtering in from the high windows, bSaphira /bstood just outside the door, staring at the polished wood like it might speak first. Her fingers twitched at her side before she raised one hand and knocked–three soft taps.

“Just a second,” came Anastasia’s voice, faint but clear through the door.

Saphira’s breath caught. No turning back now.

The door opened momentster with a soft creak. Anastasia stood framed in the light from the window behind her, dressed in pale bgrey/bb, /bher hair loose around her shoulders. She blinked, surprised.

“Saphira.” There was no usation in her tone–just open surprise. Saphira swallowed and met her gaze.

“Hi,” she said, voice quiet. “Um… can we talk?”

Anastasia didn’t hesitate long. “Of course.” She stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Saphira nodded, stepping past the threshold, shoulders tight but held straight. The room was simple–light, clean lines, with soft grey and cream ents.

“It’s lovely,” Saphira said, gesturing to the space, her voice softer now. “Peaceful.”

Anastasia offered a smile, brief but warm. “Thank you. I’m… thankful for it. It’s the first time in a long while bI’ve /bhad a space to breathe.”

They moved toward the table, Saphira running her fingers lightly over the back of the chair before sitting. Anastasia joined her across from it.

Anastasia didn’t push. Just waited–hands folded neatly in herp, watching her with a kind of reverent patience. Thenb, /bfinally, her voice broke the silence,

soft and tentative.

“How are you?”

Saphira looked up, her gaze met Anastasia’s fully now, and for the first time, she let herself really look.

The resemnce struck her–not a mirrorb, /bbut a shared softness around the eyesb, /bsomething in the curve of the cheekbones. That same golden hue,ced with thought and weight and possibility.

“I used to wonder,” Saphira said, voice quiet. “If I had my mother’s eyesb./bb” /b

She exhaled a slow breath. “Now I know.”

Anastasia’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak–her hands tightening just once in herpb. /b

“It’s been… a lot,” Saphira continued, the words feeling easier now. “More than I knew to prepare for. But out of everything that’s shifted recently… learning about youb? /bbIt’s /bsomehow the easiest part to adjust to. Like it settled into ce instead of making the ground moveb./bb” /b

She gave ba /bsmall, self–conscious smile. “So… If you’re willing, I’d like to try. To build something. Slowly.”

Anastasia blinked, and for a moment, her whole posture seemed to ripple–shoulders drawn tight with disbeliefb, /bbeyes /bbrightening with stunned relief. “I’d love that,” she whispered. “And I’ll go as slowly as you need me to. No expectations. Justb… /btime.b” /b

Saphira nodded, something soft catching beneath her ribs–like a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding had finally let go.

A moment passed, and then Anastasia tilted her head. “Did… did Lupus raise you well?”

The question came carefully, like it might bruise to say aloud.

“bI /bbwas /balways the odd one out in the pack, Saphira said. Her bvoice /bdidn’t btremble/b, but each bword /bcarried the weight bof /bremembered bedges/b. b“/bLupus raised bme/bb, /bbut I never bfelt /blike bI /bbelonged–not really. I bwasn’t /bmistreated. Things weren’t… awful. But they bweren’t /bgood either. bNot /bwhen byou’re /bbalways /bthe boutsider /bbin /byour own family.”

She looked up, meeting Anastasia’s golden gaze. “Especially not with Ruby.”

At the name, Anastasia’s brows knit gently, but she said nothing, letting her continue.

b“/bShe hated me. Resented me from the start. I tried gods, I tried so hard to stay out of her way.” Her voice thinned. “Put on the night that I turned righteen… I didn’t shift. Of course, I know why now.”

Her chest tightened as the memory crept in, unwee but familiar. “Anyway, that night… Ruby framed me. For killing our half–brother Cannon. All because he was the only one to stick up for me and liked me I guess.”

A silence fell like a held breath.

Saphira’s gaze dropped to herp. “He’s alive, by the way. He goes by Einn now. He’s part of this pack too, we were reunited when I arrived.” A ghost of disbelief flickered across her expression. “He lost his memory, he fell from a high cliff, it should have killed him. I am just so d he survived, and we are doing good now.”

“But eventually I was exiled. The pack assumed I was human–or worse, broken. And when enough time passed and I still didn’t shift, they saw an opportunity.” Her voice grew quieter, edged with something darker. “They sent me to the Matchmaker. Said they had no choice.”

She looked up again, eyes steady.

“But I knew. I knew. That was how they nned to get rid of me for good.”

Anastasia covered her mouth brieflyb, /beyes shining with horror and something deeper–grief, maybe.

But Saphira just sat straighter, braver now, bas /bif speaking it aloud had finally loosened thest knot in her ribs. “That’s the truth. All of it. I’m bsorry/b.b” /b

She blinked rapidly, inhaling as if she might speak, but the words tangled before they ever found shape. Her shoulders trembled, barely perceptible at bfirst/b, and then-

“I should be saying sorry,” she whispered. “bI /bishould /ibe. I am.”

Saphira stayed still, watching her. Not flinching. Not rushing.

“I should’ve pushed harder,” Anastasia continued, voice beginning to fray at the edges. b“/bI should have known something wasn’t right–should have searched. Fought. I thought I was doing what was best, but they told me-” Her words stuttered, grief and guilt unraveling into urgency. “They told me you were- gone. They said she’d been stillborn–said there bwas /bno hope. And bI/b… I let them decide what I should believe. I trusted-”

“Hey,” Saphira said softly, reaching across the small table to take both of Anastasia’s hands in hers. Her fingers bwere /bwarm, steady. “Stop.”

Anastasia looked at her, mouth still parted, breath uneven.

Saphira held her gaze. “You trusted people who deceived you. That’s not weakness. That’s love used against you. And byes/b, they’ll pay for it–eventually. But right now? That’s not what mattersb./b”

She squeezed Anastasia’s hands gently, anchoring her. “What matters is that all of that pain–those years–still led me here. To Niks. To Finn. And nowb… /bto you.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“I’m not broken anymore,b” /bSaphira said, her voice steadier now, stronger. “I’m home. And I’m more myself than I ever thought I’d be.”

Anastasia nodded, lower lip trembling as she tried to swallow the storm inside her. “I’ll help you,” she said, voice breaking. “However I can. With beverything/b. Whatever you need–I will do all in my power to make it right.”