Chapter four

Lucy

After my talk with Shelly the other day, I couldn’t stop thinking about Andy. Memories kept surfacing—flashes of laughter, shared secrets, a big brother who once felt like my entire world. Somewhere along the way, that version of him vanished. I realized I’d spent so long resenting the change, I never once asked why it happened.

That’s why I found myself standing in front of the Pack House, heart thudding.

Traditionally, all pack members lived in the Pack House, but when Andy became Alpha, he changed that. There was no decree, no rule—just a quiet shift. He moved out, and slowly, everyone followed. Mated couples especially liked the privacy. The only one still grumbling was Dad, but even he couldn’t argue Andy’s logic: Betas lived along the town’s borders, acting as shields. No one entered town without being noticed.

Which made Shelly’s arrival even stranger. She just… appeared. And no one questioned it. Not even Andy.

The house was quiet when I stepped inside.

“Mom?” I called. “Dad?”

“In here,” Mom answered.

“Where’s here?”

“The sitting room, dum-dum,” Dad replied gruffly.

I smiled and followed the voices. Dad sat on his usual armchair, arms crossed, wearing his default scowl. I hugged him anyway.

“Well, well,” he muttered, “my daughter finally comes home. Break out the champagne.”

“I’ve been busy,” I said, still smiling.

Mom turned to face me. Seer eyes. I resisted the urge to flinch. It's hard looking a seer in the eye—harder still when she’s your mom. Seers are rare now. Most bloodlines have faded, becoming what we call “Keepers.” But Mom? She’s the real thing. One of the last. And though I didn’t inherit the gift, I’m thankful every day.

The room went still as her eyes met mine.

“You didn’t come just to visit,” she said simply.

I sighed. “You could at least let me sit down before you start psychoanalyzing me.”

She tilted her head, her gaze narrowing—searching. A silent ritual of ours.

“It’s about Andy, isn’t it?” she asked.

That was faster than usual.

“Okay, yeah. You win.”

“I’ve been thinking about him too,” she admitted. “And… I’m scared.”

Mom doesn’t get scared.

She looked at Dad. “What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room.”

Dad tensed. “Are you sure?”

“No,” she said honestly. “But I have to say it.”

She looked back at me. “Lucy… I can’t see your brother.”

I blinked. “What do you mean you can’t see him?”

“You remember what a Seer does?”

“See the future. Duh.”

“Yes—but more accurately, we see possible futures. We watch for certainty. Patterns. Things that always happen, no matter the path.” She paused. “I can see everyone’s future. Eventually. But Andy’s? I can’t even see him.”

I stared at her.

“You’ve never seen his wolf, have you?” she asked.

“No,” I said slowly. “I remember his 16th birthday. There was a big ceremony, but he didn’t shift. Everyone talked about it for weeks.”

“We thought it was just delayed. I searched every book, every totem, consulted every Keeper I could find—nothing. No record of a late shift. Ever.”

“Wait,” I said, the truth clicking into place. “You’ve never seen his wolf, have you?”

They both shook their heads. Dad added quietly, “Not even a glimpse.”

“But… that’s not possible.”

“The lines between what’s possible and impossible have blurred,” Mom said.

We sat in stunned silence. For the first time, I realized just how much had been hidden from me.

“How is he Alpha?” I asked. “If no one’s seen his wolf? Why hasn’t anyone challenged him?”

“Oh, they have,” Mom said.

“What?”

“Andy’s been challenged,” Dad said. “By Ben.”

“Ben? The Ben? The enforcer?”

They nodded.

“In human form?”

“In human form,” Mom said. “The fight lasted ten seconds. Andy pinned him by the cuff and Ben couldn’t move.”

“That’s… insane.” I turned to Dad. “What about Raymond?”

He looked at Mom.

“Raymond wouldn’t challenge Andy,” Dad said. “But he’s never seen his wolf either.”

Mom reached for a glass of water. “Lucy, there’s more.”

I followed her into the kitchen, but even there, I could hear their hushed voices.

“Is she still…?” Dad asked.

“Yes,” Mom said.

“That’s not… We gave birth to impossibilities.”

“There’s a reason,” she whispered. “We just haven’t found it yet.”

I handed her the water and sat down. “You said you stopped seeing Andy. When did it start?”

“On his 16th birthday. The day he was supposed to shift. His future started flickering, like waves—same outcome, shifting paths. Then, at seventeen, it got worse. So many futures, changing so fast I couldn’t catch a single one. I called it ‘Seer’s Sickness.’ Blood from my eyes. My ears. It was tearing me apart.”

I remembered.

“Doctor Vincent came. You told me it was exhaustion—but I saw the blood.”

Mom nodded. “Then, on his 18th birthday, it stopped. At exactly midnight, I slept for eight hours straight. First time in a year.”

“And that’s when it happened?” I asked.

They both went quiet.

“You sent me away,” I realized. “To Uncle Grey’s. I thought it was just for school—”

“We couldn’t hide it from you,” Dad admitted.

“Hide what?”

“Andy disappeared,” Mom said softly. “On his birthday. No scent. No sign. Nothing. We thought he’d run off. Or worse.”

“He came back almost nine months later,” Dad added. “He said he shifted in the woods and got lost.”

“But he was different.”

“And when he returned…” Mom looked down. “I couldn’t see him at all. He no longer appeared in any future. Not even the pack’s.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“You said it’s because he’s the Alpha. You can’t see the pack clearly without seeing him.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “The Alpha is the Pack. And if I can’t see him…”

“Then you’re blind,” I finished.

Mom gave a small nod. “But recently, a thought keeps repeating itself: What happened that year?”

And deep inside, I was starting to wonder the same thing.

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