Secrets Between Shadows

Chapter 8: Secrets In The Floor

But then-footsteps. Heavy ones. I freeze as I hear them thudding up the stairs.

"Oh no," I whisper, kicking the other pillow under the bed, right over the open cubby, just as the door swings open. Beck stands there in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes flicking between me standing breathless and red-faced in the middle of the room and Rowan-still very much on the bed, crouched like a startled cat, clutching my second pillow to his chest like his life depends on it. He doesn't say a word.

"Heyyyyyy Beck," Rowan says, voice pitched just a little too high.

A second later, the Luna and Alpha appear behind him, both wide-eyed as they take in the scene. The Luna's mouth opens slightly. The Alpha just... stares.

"What happened?" Beck finally asks, glancing between us like he's trying to piece together a crime scene. Rowan looks at me like he's about to throw me to the wolves-ironically. I clear my throat, brushing my hair behind my ear, trying to look as innocent and reasonable as possible.

"Well," I say, "there was a rat under the bed." Everyone's eyes snap back to Rowan.

"And apparently Rowan here is afraid of small woodland creatures."

The Luna looks from me to Rowan, then to the scattered mess-my overturned journal, the desk chair knocked halfway across the room, pens everywhere-and her lip twitches. For a second, she tries to keep it together. Then she absolutely loses it. She doubles over, laughing so hard her eyes squeeze shut and she has to grip the doorframe for support. Beck presses a fist to his mouth like he's trying to stay serious, but the second he glances at Rowan-still gripping my pillow like it's a shield against certain death-he snorts.

"Don't-" he starts, but then he cracks, too, shoulders shaking with a deep laugh.

Rowan mutters something about betrayal, still planted on the bed like the floor might eat him. I can't help it-I laugh. I laugh so hard my ribs ache, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. We all turn to the Alpha, the only one still stoic, watching us like a man trying to figure out how he ended up in a sitcom. He sighs. Then, just barely, his mouth curves.

"You're all hopeless," he mutters-but there's laughter in his voice, hidden behind the gravel. That makes it worse. We howl.

I wipe my eyes, catching my breath, heart light in a way it hasn't been in a while. Just laughter echoing through the walls and a pile of chaos at our feet. And for the first time in days, I think- This. This feels like home. The Alpha ushers the still-laughing group out into the hallway, his hands on their backs like he's corralling a bunch of rowdy teens instead of grown wolves. The door swings shut behind them with a soft click, muffling their lingering giggles. Rowan and I sit in the sudden quiet, the energy slowly draining out of the room with the sound of receding footsteps. We're still grinning, breathing out the last threads of amusement-but the air shifts. Our laughter fades into a charged silence, like we both remembered at the same time why we were here in the first place.

"Okay," I whisper, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. "Game time."

I bend down and lift the pillow I'd kicked over the cubbyhole, hands moving slower now. I feel the weight of the moment pressing down like the air is holding its breath with me. Carefully, I slide my fingers into the opening again. No rat this time. No fur, no claws. Just metal. Cold and smooth. My fingertips hook around something small and rounded. I pull it out slowly and let the light catch it. A locket. Worn, but not rusted. Silver, maybe, or something that used to be. It has a delicate design engraved on the surface-so faint I have to squint to make it out. Two crescents, nearly touching, etched in a looping pattern that feels strangely familiar. I sit back, crossing my legs on the bed beside Rowan, the locket dangling from my fingers. He leans in, his breath brushing my shoulder as he peers at it. "So..." I say softly, eyeing it.