Chapter 7 Chapter 7: Two Worlds Colliding

The next morning arrives with gray skies and the weight of obligations I'm not ready to face. I stand in front of my closet, trying to decide who I'm supposed to be today: the daughter my family expects, or the woman who spent nights learning to fight werewolves.

My skin prickles with phantom heat—Hawk's anxiety bleeding through the bond from twenty miles away. My hand moves unconsciously to my chest, pressing against the invisible thread connecting us. The mate bond doesn't care about family dinners or normal human obligations. It wants me there, with him, always.

I force myself to focus. Jeans and a nice sweater—the compromise outfit for someone who can't decide between ranger casual and family formal. Ranger whines as I grab my keys.

"I know, buddy. I don't want to go either."

The drive to my parents' house takes almost two hours and forty-five minutes, and I spend every second rehearsing normal conversation topics. Work is fine. No, no one special in my life. Yes, I'm excited about Jason's engagement. No, I haven't thought about my own wedding.

All lies.

Halfway there, my skin flushes hot-cold-hot, and I nearly swerve off the road. Through the bond, Hawk's worry crashes into me like a wave—someone's said something about Viktor, about increased rogue activity near populated areas. I grip the steering wheel and push back through the connection: I'm okay. Family dinner. Be back tonight.

His relief is palpable.

Mom's car is already in the driveway when I arrive, along with Jason's BMW and Dad's truck. The smell of pot roast hits me the moment I open the door—a normal, human smell that's almost jarring after nights of breathing forest air and pack musk.

"Luna!" Mom appears, pulling me into a hug.

And freezes.

"You smell different," she says, pulling back to study my face. "Like... pine? And something else. Have you been camping?"

My heart hammers. "Yeah, some overnight tracking work. Haven't showered properly in a few days." The lie comes easier than it should.

"Well, you look tired. Are you sleeping enough? You work too hard—"

"I'm fine, Mom. Just a busy week."

Jason appears from the living room, all expensive suit and confident smile. But his eyes—sharp lawyer eyes—narrow as he studies me. "There's my little sister. You look different."

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"No, you do. Can't put my finger on it." He tilts his head, and the gesture is so wolf-like my breath catches. "Are you seeing someone?"

Every eye in the room turns to me.

"It's... new. Complicated."

"Complicated how?" Victoria glides over—blonde, polished, perfect. Today she's wearing an outfit that looks costly. "Is he local? What does he do?"

"He's involved in wildlife conservation. We met through work." All technically true. "Like I said, it's new."

"Bring him to the engagement party," Mom says immediately. "Two weeks from now. It'll be a wonderful chance for us to meet him!"

"Mom, I don't know if—"

"No excuses. If he's important enough to make you blush like that, he's important enough to meet your family."

Jason grins. "Protective father protocol? I like it. What's his name?"

"Hawk."

Silence falls.

"Hawk?" Jason repeats, eyebrows raised. "Like the bird?"

"It's a nickname," I say quickly. "His real name is Henry. Henry Blackthorn. Everyone just calls him Hawk."

Dad sets down the carving knife, his sharp eyes fixed on me. "Blackthorn. That's an unusual surname. Old-fashioned. Is he from around here?"

"His family lived in these mountains for generations. They keep to themselves mostly." Again, technically true. I'm getting disturbingly good at this.

"What kind of wildlife conservation?" Dad asks, and I can hear the former forest service officer in his tone—assessing, analyzing, looking for inconsistencies.

"Predator management. Wolf populations specifically." My palms are sweating. "He's very passionate about protecting their habitats."

"Wolves," Dad says thoughtfully. "Interesting timing, given those attacks you've been investigating. How's that going, by the way?"

The temperature in the room seems to drop. Through the bond, I feel Hawk's sudden alertness—he's sensing my stress.

"Still tracking patterns. It's complicated." I desperately want to change the subject. "So, engagement party planning?"

Victoria claps her hands together, saving me. "Yes! Luna, I need you to help me pick bridesmaid dresses. I'm thinking lavender or maybe sage green? What do you think?"

"Either sounds lovely."

We settle into dinner, and Victoria launches into detailed wedding plans—venues, guest lists, color schemes, the spring garden ceremony with two hundred of their closest friends. I nod and smile in the right places, but my mind keeps drifting.

How am I going to bring Hawk to this party? How do I explain his intensity, his predatory grace, the way he moves like violence contained? What if someone asks about his past and he accidentally mentions something from the 1800s?

Halfway through Victoria's monologue about table linens, my hand drifts to my chest again—that unconscious gesture I can't seem to stop.

"Luna?" Mom's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That thing you do when you're worried about something. Your left hand keeps touching your chest, right over your heart." She demonstrates. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"You're not fine." Dad's voice is gentle but firm. "You've been distracted all evening. Is it work? This wolf situation? Or is it this new man?"

Yes. No. Everything.

"It's complicated, Dad."

"Life usually is." He sets down his fork, giving me his full attention in that way that used to make me confess every childhood transgression. "But whatever you're dealing with, you know you can talk to us, right? We're your family."

Guilt twists in my stomach like a living thing. They have no idea I'm lying to them about everything—where I've been, who I'm with, what I'm really doing when I claim to be working late. And if they knew the truth? That their daughter is bonding with a werewolf, training to fight supernatural creatures, that she's chosen a world they don't even know exists?

"I know," I say softly. "I just... need to figure some things out on my own first."

Jason reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. For all his golden-boy perfection, he's always had my back. "When you're ready to talk, I'm here. Annoying older brother duties and all that."

The genuine concern in his voice almost breaks me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. And again. And again.

"Sorry, I need to check this. It might be work."

I step into the hallway, pulling out my phone. Three texts from Hawk, each more urgent:

Viktor's pack was spotted near your parents' address.

Luna, I need you to stay calm, but there are rogues in your area. Within a mile.

I'm on my way. Don't go outside alone. Keep your family inside.

My blood runs cold. I text back with shaking fingers: How close?

His response is immediate: Close enough to have marked territory. They're watching, learning patterns. Ten minutes out. I need you to stay calm and act normally.

Jason appears in the hallway. "Everything okay?"

"Fine. Just work stuff."

He studies me with those lawyer eyes that can spot a lie from a mile away. "Luna, you're pale. Your hands are shaking. What's going on?"

"There's been some suspicious wildlife activity in this area. Large predators are moving closer to residential zones than normal." Not entirely a lie. "I might need to leave soon to check it out."

"Now? During dinner?"

"It's my job, Jason."

He frowns but nods. "Be careful out there. With these wolf attacks escalating..." He trails off, and something in his expression shifts. "You know, Dad's been acting strange too lately. Noticed it about a month ago. He's been having headaches and says his senses are sharper. Mom thinks it's stress."

Ice slides down my spine. "What kind of sharper?"

"Hearing things he shouldn't be able to hear. Smelling things from far away. Even his night vision's improved." Jason shrugs. "Probably nothing. Maybe he needs his glasses adjusted. But it's weird, right?"

It's not weird. It's terrifying.

Because those are wolf traits. Dormant traits are activating.

And if Dad has them, that means...

I need to talk to Sage. Now.

"I have to go," I say abruptly. "Wildlife emergency. Can't wait."

I return to the dining room, pasting on a smile that feels like a mask. "I'm so sorry, but I need to leave. Work emergency."

Mom's face falls. "Already? You just got here!"

"I know. I'm sorry. Duty calls." I hug her quickly, trying to memorize the feel of her arms around me, the lavender scent of her perfume. "Dinner was wonderful. I'll see you all at the engagement party."

"With Hawk," Victoria reminds me brightly. "Don't forget! I need to get a headcount for the caterer."

"With Hawk," I confirm, though the idea now fills me with entirely different dread.

Dad walks me to my truck, his hand on my shoulder. In the porch light, I notice things I hadn't before—how his eyes catch the light strangely, almost reflective. He moves with slightly more grace than he used to. His grip on my shoulder is stronger than I remember.

"Luna, level with me. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No, Dad. I promise."

"Because if you were, if you needed help—if something was happening that you couldn't handle alone—you'd tell me, right?" There's something desperate in his voice, something urgent I don't understand.

"I know. I would." Another lie to add to the growing pile.

He hugs me tightly. "I'm proud of you, kiddo. Even when I don't understand what you're doing, I'm proud of who you are. Just... be careful. The world's more dangerous than we like to think."

The words hit harder than they should. When he finds out the truth—if he finds out—will he still be proud? Or will he think his daughter has lost her mind?