Chapter 19 - Caelan
My sister has been avoiding me for three days, and I’m done letting her get away with it.
I find Sera in the Cultural Center’s main archive, surrounded by stacks of documents and looking like she hasn’t slept in a week.
Her silver-blonde hair is piled in a messy bun, and there are ink smudges on her fingers that tell me she’s been at this since dawn.
When I clear my throat from the doorway, she startles so badly that she nearly knocks over a pot of tea that’s gone cold hours ago.
She presses a hand to her chest. “You scared the hell out of me, Caelan.”
“Good. Maybe now you’ll actually look at me instead of finding excuses to be somewhere else whenever I walk into a room.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. She has the decency to look guilty. “I haven’t been—”
“You have. And I understand why, but I’m tired of it.” I cross to her desk and plant my hands on the edge, leaning in until she has no choice but to look me in the eye. “We need to talk. Really talk, not just exchange pleasantries while pretending everything is fine.”
“I have a meeting with Oren’s council in two hours about the intelligence network—”
“Cancel it.”
“I can’t just cancel—”
“Sera.” I soften my voice because she looks exhausted and overwhelmed, and despite everything, she’s still my sister. “Please. When was the last time we actually spent time together? Just the two of us, without pack politics or mate bonds or Thornridge threats hanging over our heads?”
She stares at me for a long moment, and I watch the war play out across her face. Duty versus family. Responsibility versus connection. The curse may be broken, but old habits are hard to shake, and Sera spent years burying her emotions so deep that even now, she struggles to let them surface.
Finally, her shoulders slump. “There’s a spot by the river about a mile from here. Reeyan showed it to me when we first got together. It’s quiet, and no one will bother us there.”
“Perfect.”
We pack a basket with bread and cheese and a bottle of wine that Sera produces from a cabinet in the kitchen.
The walk through Grayhide territory is peaceful, the afternoon sun warm on our skin as we follow a winding path through sparse trees and scrubland.
Neither of us speaks, but the silence feels comfortable rather than strained.
Like we’re both gathering our thoughts for what’s to come.
The spot Sera mentioned turns out to be a small clearing where the river bends, creating a natural pool surrounded by flat rocks perfect for sitting.
She spreads a blanket on the largest one, and we settle with our legs dangling over the edge, close enough to the water that I can feel the cool mist on my ankles.
“This is beautiful,” I admit as I accept the glass of wine she pours for me. “I can see why you like it here.”
“It reminds me of that place behind the archives back home. Remember? Where we used to sneak off when Mother’s lessons got too boring?”
The memory surfaces like a bubble rising through still water. Two little girls with silver-blonde hair, hiding behind dusty shelves and whispering secrets they didn’t quite understand. Back before the curse made us strangers wearing sister masks.
“I remember.” I take a sip of wine, letting the tartness roll over my tongue. “You used to tell me stories about the packs beyond the mountains. Made-up adventures about brave omega wolves who saved their territories from evil alphas.”
Sera throws her head back and laughs. “I’d forgotten about those. I was such a weird kid.”
“You were so creative. I was jealous of that. I was always jealous of you, Sera. You had this fire inside you that I could never match. Even with the curse dampening everything, you still found ways to push back, to question, to want more. I just…accepted it. Accepted being less.”
My sister sets down her wine glass and turns to face me. “You were never less.”
“That’s not how it felt. Everyone always compared us.
Sera, the bold one, Caelan, the dutiful one.
Sera, who chafed against tradition, Caelan, who embraced it.
I spent my entire life trying to be the perfect Llewelyn daughter because I thought that’s all I was good for.
The one who colored inside the lines while you redrew the entire picture. ”
“Caelan—”
“Let me finish.” I hold up a hand because if I don’t get this out now, I never will.
“When you left to investigate the curse, when you mated with Reeyan and broke the binding on our entire pack, I was proud of you. So proud. But I was also angry. Because you got to be the hero, while I was still stuck being the good girl who did what she was told. And then the curse broke, and suddenly I could feel everything I’d been suppressing for two decades, and I didn’t know what to do with any of it. ”
Sera’s eyes glisten. “So you went wild.”
“I went searching. For anything that would help me figure out who I actually am without the curse telling me what to feel. Or rather, what not to feel.” I stare out at the river, watching sunbeams dance across the surface.
“The bar that night, the stranger I went home with…I wasn’t just being reckless.
I was trying to feel something real for the first time in my life.
I wanted to know what it was like to want someone without the curse muting every sensation. ”
“And you found Patrick.”
“I found my mate. I didn’t know that’s what he was. Not until later. But even that first night, something felt different. Like I’d finally found a missing piece I didn’t know I’d lost.”
Sera reaches over and takes my hand. Her fingers are cold from holding the wine glass, but the gesture warms something inside me.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. After the curse broke, I was so focused on helping the pack adjust, on building the Cultural Center, on my own relationship with Reeyan…
I didn’t stop to think about what you might be going through. ”
“You had a lot on your plate.”
“That’s not an excuse. You’re my sister. I should have made time.”
We sit with that for a moment, with the river rushing past and the sun continuing its slow descent toward the horizon. There’s grief in the space between us, mourning for all the years we lost to a curse neither of us asked for. But there’s hope, too. A chance to rebuild what was stolen.
When she speaks again, Sera’s voice drops low, almost confessional. “Can I tell you something? Something I’ve never admitted to anyone?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve been jealous of you, too. These past eight months, I’ve watched you throw yourself into life with such abandon…
. Part of me wishes I could do the same.
Isn’t that ridiculous? I’m the one who broke the curse.
I’m supposed to be free. But even now, I catch myself holding back.
Gauging every reaction and measuring every emotion against what I think I should feel instead of just… feeling it.”
“The curse was part of you for twenty-three years. You can’t expect to undo all that overnight.”
“I know. But it’s frustrating. I watch you dance at pack gatherings like no one’s looking. I see the way you laugh too loud and talk too much and take up space without apologizing for it, and I think…that’s what freedom looks like. That’s what I fought for. So why can’t I claim it for myself?”
I squeeze her hand. “You will. It just takes time.”
“Says the woman who went from curse-broken to married-to-a-Thornridge-wolf in less than a year.”
The joke falls flat, but I appreciate the attempt. “Speaking of which, have you heard from Mom and Dad?”
Sera presses her lips into a thin line and nods. “A letter came yesterday. They’re…thinking.”
“By which you mean they’re horrified and disappointed and probably lighting candles to the old gods, hoping I’ll come to my senses?”
“They don’t know what to feel any more than the rest of us do. Mom’s been so different since the curse broke that Dad doesn’t know how to handle it.. Dad’s been so overwhelmed he actually cried when he read my last letter. Full-on sobbing. Mom said she didn’t know he was capable of it.”
I try to imagine my stoic, reserved father crying over a letter and fail completely. “That must have been strange for her.”
“Strange for everyone. They’re learning how to be people, Caelan. Real people who feel things and react to those feelings instead of just…existing. Give them time.”
“Do they hate Patrick?”
“They don’t know Patrick. They hate the idea of him.
The Thornridge connection, the forced marriage, all of it.
But when things settle down, when they have a chance to actually meet him…
” Sera shrugs. “They might surprise you. Mom asked about you in her last letter. She wanted to know if you were happy.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I didn’t know, but that despite everything, you seem more yourself than I’ve ever seen you. Was I right?”
I think about Patrick. About the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. The way he sleeps on the floor without complaint because I needed the bed. How he killed for me without blinking and then asked if I was hurt before worrying about himself.
“I think so,” I admit. “It’s just so messy.”
“Most things worth having are.” Sera refills both our glasses and hands mine back to me. “Do you love him?”
The question lands between us like a stone dropped into still water. I watch the ripples spread, trying to find the answer somewhere in their pattern.
“I’m not sure.” I take a long drink of wine, letting the alcohol warm my throat.
“I want him. That part I’m sure of. Every time he walks into a room, my body pays attention.
And I’m starting to trust him, which feels insane considering how we met.
He’s not the monster I expected. He’s thoughtful and protective and surprisingly funny when he lets his guard down. ”
“But?”
“But love feels like a word too big for what we have. Everything between us started with lies and force. He convinced me to follow him, Sera. Led me to Hysopp territory and married me before I understood what was happening. Even if I understand why he did it, even if I believe his reasons were good…how do you build love on a foundation like that?”
Sera is quiet for a long moment as she keeps her line of sight fixed on the river.
“Reeyan and I didn’t start in the best of circumstances either.
He was suspicious of me, I was terrified of him, and neither of us asked for the mate bond that brought us together.
For a long time, I wasn’t sure if what I felt was real or just the bond talking. ”
“What changed?”
“I stopped trying to figure it out and started paying attention to what was actually happening between us. The small moments. The way he remembered how I take my tea. How he’d stay up late researching just because I asked a question he couldn’t answer.
The way he looked at me like I was the most important thing in any room.
” She smiles and adds, “Love isn’t always a lightning bolt, Caelan.
Sometimes it’s a slow sunrise. You don’t notice it happening until suddenly everything is bright and you can’t remember what the darkness felt like. ”
“That’s either very profound or very cheesy.”
She laughs and bumps her shoulder against mine. “My point is, you don’t have to know right now. You don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes the knowing comes after the choosing.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you chose to stay with him when you could have run. You chose to defend him to Aunt Lydia. You chose to believe him when he told you the truth about Thornridge. Every day you make a hundred little choices, and they’re all pointing in the same direction.
Maybe you don’t know if you love him yet.
But you’re already acting like someone who does. ”
The words settle into me like seeds finding fertile soil. I turn them over in my mind, examining them from different angles, testing their weight against my own uncertain feelings.
Patrick.
My enemy who became my husband who became my mate who became…what? Something I don’t have a name for yet. Something that terrifies me almost as much as it thrills me.
“When did you get so wise?” I ask with a giggle.
“I’ve always been wise. You just never listened because you were too busy resenting me.
” Sera grins, and for a moment, she looks like the bold, adventurous girl from my childhood memories.
The one who told stories and dreamed dreams and refused to let anything hold her back.
“Now finish your wine. We should head back before Reeyan sends out a search party.”
We pack up the basket and fold the blanket, and when Sera loops her arm through mine for the walk back to the Cultural Center, I let myself lean into her.
The conversation didn’t solve anything, not really.
I still don’t know if I love Patrick. I still don’t know what the future holds for either of us.
But I know that my sister sees me now. Really sees me, not the dutiful shadow I spent two decades pretending to be. And somehow, that feels like enough.
For now.