Chapter 1 - Vera

Thirty-five years old and sleeping on someone else’s couch. Vera had officially hit rock bottom. Her back creaked in protest when she sat up, shaking her tangle of chin-length hair from her eyes. It was her third night crashing at Evelyn’s place. The living room was still unfamiliar to her in those early morning hours, corners filled with strange shifting shadows and mysterious clunking noises.

Suffice it to say, she hadn’t been sleeping well. And there was no reason for her to be awake then at the crack of dawn, when the sun wasn’t even properly up yet. Not anymore. Not since she’d quit her job as a veterinarian and kissed her career goodbye. Over a guy. Seriously?

Not just any guy. Her mate. They hadn’t even lasted a full year together before he’d dumped her and she’d joined the sad small ranks of the rejected mates. She wondered if there was a support group for them.

If karma was real, this must be hers, smacking her in the face. All that time she’d spent lecturing her sister Moira on responsibility, on the importance of a stable, reputable job, and here she was, couch surfing and browsing the classifieds for work. In truth, it wasn’t just about a guy. Her unceremonious dumping by a man she’d fallen for had just been the final nail in the coffin, something she could pin all of her troubles on.

Vera kicked off the pile of blankets, a necessity in Evelyn’s old, drafty house, and shuffled to the kitchen. She’d brought her coffee machine from home, pushing Evelyn’s sad little coffee pot to the depths of the pantry where it belonged, and had it bubbling away, filling the house with the sweet aroma of espresso in moments.

She sat down at the wobbly kitchen table and spread the latest paper out in front of her, scanning the ads. Plumber. Not a chance; she could barely wield a plunger. Carpenter. Did experience using a bone saw count? Probably not.

Like so many others Vera had gone to school with, she’d known she’d wanted to be a vet at an early age, almost as early as she could remember. There had been no other option for her, and she’d worked hard to get into school, taking shifts at the local offices whenever she could before finally graduating and finding her own place.

But the work was grueling. Long hours with customers who couldn’t or wouldn’t pay, debt that nearly rivaled the amount accrued at med school, and daily tragedy. She was burnt out. Crying on the way to and from work, and sometimes at work. Leaving had been an impulsive act of desperation and she still wasn’t sure it was the right choice.

“God, you wake up so early.” Evelyn stumbled into the kitchen wrapped in a thick fleece robe that matched her bunny-eared slippers. “If I didn’t have work to do, I would sleep all day. Seriously. All day.”

Vera jumped up to pour Evelyn a coffee and top up her own mug. “I wish I could, but it would really count into the hours I’ve set aside for self-flagellation.”

Evelyn snorted, pulling up a chair beside Vera’s. “Anything looking good today?” She nodded at the paper lying across the table.

“I’m not sure. How do you think I’d do as a clown at birthday parties?” Vera deadpanned.

Tilting her head to the side, Evelyn considered Vera. “It’s kind of hard to imagine you working with kids, actually. You don't really give off that vibe.”

It was a fair assessment, but the words stung. So she wasn’t a bubbly person, the kind you could imagine leading a group of kindergarteners on a field trip. Did that mean she wasn’t good with kids? Did she even care if she was good with kids or not?

Vera tried to cover the awkward silence with a laugh. “No, I suppose I don’t. That’s more Moira’s thing. She played with dolls and kitchens, and I played with doctor kits.”

And so what if Vera had missed her chance at ever having children. There was more to life than babies and settling down, so much more. So why did she feel like she’d taken a wrong turn at some crossroads?

The sun was up and shining now, melting the last of winter’s snow into puddles on the lawn. Spring was around the corner, the promise of it ringing in the birdsong, in the tentative white flowers poking their heads out of the soil. New beginnings. Maybe it was time for hers, too.

“Have you talked to Moira at all?” Evelyn prodded, looking carefully out of the window rather than at Vera.

It was the first time Evelyn had asked that question, even though it must have been the first one on her mind when Vera called her, looking for a place to stay. Any normal person would have gone to their sister first. But showing up on her little sister’s doorstep with her bags and her story of heartbreak had been too pathetic to consider. Talk about swallowing pride. She would’ve been choking on it.

“I don’t want to burden her right now,” Vera said briskly, folding up the paper. “She’s got the baby and a new mate. But I promise I’m looking for a new place to stay. I won’t be here for much longer.”

Her perfect home in Rosewood had sold quickly, before she could regret her decision to list it, leaving her with a sizable lump of money to purchase a new place. She’d spent too many nights there with Rami to stay. His presence lingered there, a ghost haunting her every time she closed her eyes. Plus, she’d lost the steady income her job had provided. It’d made more sense to sell the place than keep paying the mortgage until she decided what her next move was.

“There’s no rush,” Evelyn protested. “I like having the company here. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and the house is kind of spooky all alone, if I’m honest. Having a guest makes it feel a little less like a haunted house. I just think Moira should know what’s going on with you. She’s your sister, and you’re having a rough time.”

Vera straightened up, voice clipped. “Thanks, Evie, but honestly, I’m fine. I know it might not seem like it from the outside, but seriously, I’m okay. It’s exciting, even, changing my life up like this.”

The lies came out with ease. She was so used to telling them, and even more used to believing them. If she pretended this was just a new chapter, a decision she’d made to shake things up, maybe navigating through it would feel less like drowning.

Evelyn looked from Vera’s bright smile to her fingers tapping on the table. “Well, you’re a braver person than me. Look at me; I’m stuck in the house my grandparents lived in.”

Vera breathed a sigh of relief as Evelyn seemed to buy the lie. “It’s frugal. Smart. Better to stay in a cheap place than to stretch yourself with something you can barely afford.”

Was she seriously giving someone else life advice right now? Old habits die hard, even when you’ve lost all ability to back up the advice, when you’ve lost the right to hold up your own life of accomplishments and say, ‘look how I did it!”

She realized Evelyn was still talking, showing Vera something on her phone. “And there’s so many posted on here, I’m sure there will be something for you. Oh, look, this one is for a vet!”

Job postings flashed across the screen in an endless scroll, coming to a stop at the listing Evelyn mentioned.

Vera shook her head vehemently. “No, thank you. I’m out of that world, and I don’t know if I ever want to go back.”

“That’s so crazy to me. It seemed like you really loved your job. You seemed really passionate about it,” Evelyn said, but she kept scrolling.

“Maybe it’s better to not mix work and passion. Or anything and passion. Actually, I’d like to leave passion out of the equation entirely.”

It was the root of all her troubles. She’d gotten too invested in work, in Rami, in Moira’s wellbeing, and look where it had gotten her. Burned on all sides.

“Well, I sent you a link to the site so you can check it out yourself. I’ve got to get ready for class.” Evelyn closed the site and Vera’s phone vibrated with a notification, the promised link.

She waited for Evelyn to finish in the shower, flicking through the job listings with half-hearted interest. It was impossible to find something to do when she had no idea what she wanted to do, when she didn’t know who she was anymore. Moira didn’t need her. Rami didn’t want her. She’d left the job she’d thought was her calling.

The couch with its rumpled blankets and pillow was calling to her. Maybe Evelyn was right and she should just spend the days in bed. No, she snapped at herself; that is too pathetic even for me.

After Evelyn headed off to school, Vera forced herself through the motions of getting ready. The longer she stayed in her pajamas, the louder the siren call of the couch became. She washed her hair and styled it into her signature sleek bob, then dressed in jeans and a flannel button-down, then grabbed her bag, and headed out.

Silversand was not as polished as Rosewood. The coastal town had more of a rough edge to it, from the bite of the salty air to the ramshackle houses dotting the street. It suited this new stage of her life better than the pristine Rosewood had. And maybe it had something to do with Moira living there now. Maybe.

Moira was the Luna of the Silversand pack now and had left the Rosewoods, and Vera, behind to step into her new role. Vera had decided to stay with the Rosewoods, chafing at the thought of being under her little sister’s command, but the physical distance between them had worried at Vera, like a tick burrowing into her skin.

At first, she’d tried to ignore it. After all, Moira had wanted more independence. She had believed herself capable of living her life without Vera’s input. And that was fine. If she didn’t need Vera anymore, then it wasn’t like Vera was going to beg for a spot in her life. She had a new mate, a new pack, and a thriving business, shedding her old life like snakeskin. Vera just hadn’t realized she’d be part of the husk Moira left.

It wasn’t really fair; a part of Vera spoke up in protest. Moira had done her best to stay close to Vera, inviting her over often to play with the baby or just for dinner, and it had been Vera that had refused invitations, that had worked to put space between them.

Maybe her pride prevented her from accepting Moira’s pity invites. Maybe she was just desperate to prove that Moira did still need her. So what did it say about her that she’d moved closer and hadn’t even told Moira yet?

Her thoughts were a spiral that dragged her down, lower and lower. She tried to push them aside, focusing on learning her way around her new town. The best way would be in wolf form, the feral side of her beckoned, where she could scent the trails of everyone passing through as easily as reading routes on a map.

But her feral side longed for something else, too.

Rami.

It was the added danger of being in Silversand where Rami lived and worked, where he belonged to Moira’s pack. At any moment, she could run into him, and she didn’t know what she wanted to do more, yell at him, or beg him to give them another chance. Everything had been going well right up until the point where he’d dumped her.

She realized with a start that she was walking toward his bookshop. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it, she was drawn there over and over again, like picking a scab so it would never scar over. Deliberately, she turned the other way.

The town of Silversand was wrapped in coastline, encasing it entirely on its north, west, and southern sides, meaning that almost any direction she walked would lead to the beach. When she stepped out onto the cool, grey sand the town was named for, she slipped off her shoes and let her feet sink into the soft grains. It was so cold that it made them ache, sharp bursts of pain that faded to numbness.

Up ahead, she spotted the Silversand lighthouse, a beacon at the western most part of the town and the place Moira called home. A brilliant white light burned steadily at the top, guiding ships safely home. She watched a dainty sailboat dart along the shore, skirting the coast, its captain harnessing the tempestuous wind that filled the sail.

Her feet had brought her closer to the lighthouse while she watched the ship’s journey until suddenly, she was standing in its shadow. A burst of childish laughter rose inside, and the front door opened. Moira froze, a hand reflexively reaching forward to stop her daughter’s toddling steps.

“Vera?” Moira cupped her hands over her brow, Cora clinging to her leg. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

Vera crossed her arms over her chest, the wind whipping her hair into chaotic strands. “I didn’t know either. Hey there, Cora. It’s me, Aunt Vera.”

Some aunt she’d been. But the little girl seemed to hold no grudges, reaching her arms out for Vera, her blue eyes wide and sparkling. Vera scooped her up and settled her into her arms, closing her eyes as she hugged the child.

“Well, you might as well come in,” Moira said, opening the door wider and gesturing for Vera to step inside. “Jonah is out, but I just baked up some scones.”

It was, Vera knew, Moira’s way of handling any awkward situation. Ply it with sugar. It was also a peace offering, one that Vera accepted eagerly.

“I’d love one,” she said, carrying Cora inside.

The lighthouse was freshly redone and bore all the hallmarks of a home, from the chipped mugs beside the sink to the fire crackling cheerfully in the wood stove. Cora wiggled, reaching for her collection of toys spread out on a blanket on the floor. Vera set her down, watching her take unsteady but confident steps toward the treasure trove.

Moira plated two scones and filled the kettle, glancing over to where Cora had settled in with a set of stacking blocks. Vera couldn’t pull her eyes away from her niece. That earlier sensation came back to her. Had she missed her chance at motherhood without ever realizing she’d wanted it?

“You look awful,” Moira said bluntly, sliding the plate over. “What’s going on? You stopped returning my calls and texts, which I get. You’re upset I left the Rosewoods, but I’m still your sister, Vera. What are you trying to do, punish me, or cut me out of your life?”

Vera’s eyes swam with tears, sudden and unstoppable. She couldn’t let Moira see her break down, couldn’t let her see her undone. She spun and fled the lighthouse, seeing Cora’s sweet smile in her mind long after the girl was behind her.