The morning sun bathed the cabin in warm light, casting long shadows on the wooden floors. Zoelle stretched, her dark hair falling messily over her shoulders as she stepped out of her room. Her dark, doe-like eyes, captivating in their depth, scanned the room. The smell of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air, and she smiled, feeling a rare sense of peace.
At the table, Adam sat with a steaming cup in hand, flipping through an old, leather-bound journal. Maxwell was sprawled across the couch, his legs stretched out, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched Zoelle approach.
"Good morning, Snow," Zoelle said casually, her voice laced with teasing.
Maxwell's groan was immediate and exaggerated. "Snow? Are we still on this? I told you, I deserve a more fearsome name. Something like Shadow or Thunder—something intimidating."
Zoelle smirked, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Nope. Snow fits you perfectly." She took a sip before adding, "You're cold, sometimes soft, and... fluffy."
Adam nearly choked on his tea, stifling a laugh as he turned the page of his journal. Maxwell, on the other hand, sat upright, clutching his chest in mock offense.
"Fluffy?" he repeated, his voice filled with exaggerated disbelief. "Did you just call me fluffy? I'll have you know I am the embodiment of rugged masculinity. Look at these scars!" He gestured dramatically to his arm, where faint marks from his wolf form were visible.
Zoelle leaned against the counter, her gaze playful. "Rugged masculinity with a touch of fluffiness. It's a good balance."
Maxwell raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You know, Doc, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're flirting with me."
Zoelle rolled her eyes, though a faint blush betrayed her. "In your dreams, Snow."
Maxwell leaned forward, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Every night."
Zoelle burst into laughter, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
Adam cleared his throat loudly, cutting through their banter. "As entertaining as this is, we have work to do."
The humor in the room dissipated as they turned their attention to Adam, who set his journal down with a somber expression.
"I went to the Jones Castle yesterday," Adam began. "Elizabeth and Reynold don't know you're alive, Maxwell. As far as they're concerned, you're still dead."
Maxwell frowned, leaning forward. "Then how does Jolie know? Why would she want me dead if even Elizabeth and Reynold don't know I survived?"
Zoelle hesitated, her fingers tightening around her cup. "When you were injured, you were treated at the Lee Pack clinic. I worked there as a veterinarian. Maybe... maybe she saw something there."
Maxwell's gaze sharpened. "But that still doesn't explain why she'd want me dead. What's her motive?"
Adam sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We don't know yet. But what we do know is that Jolie is dangerous, and she has a plan. We need to be ready before the full moon ceremony."
The room fell silent as the weight of their situation sank in.
"Alright," Maxwell said, breaking the silence. "Let's hear it. What's the plan?"
Zoelle straightened, her expression resolute. "I'll go as the doctor who saved you. It's a believable cover, and it will give us access to the ceremony without raising suspicion."
Maxwell nodded. "And I'll stop hiding. No more pretending to be dead. I'll show up in my wheelchair. Let them think I'm weak, but they'll see soon enough."
Adam frowned but chose his words carefully. "You know Reynold. He doesn't like surprises. This could get... complicated."
Maxwell shrugged, his confidence unwavering. "Complicated is my middle name. Let him be mad. I'm not scared of Reynold."
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the trio continued to finalize their plan. Maps and papers were spread across the dining table, detailing the layout of the Jones Castle and the schedule for the full moon ceremony.
Zoelle leaned over the table, her brows furrowed in concentration. "If we enter through the west gate, we'll avoid most of the guards. It's the least guarded area, and it will give us a clear path to the main hall."
Maxwell stood behind her, his gaze fixed on her as she spoke. "You know, Doc, you're kind of amazing at this. Have you done this before?"
Zoelle glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "No, but I'm good at thinking on my feet. Someone has to be."
Maxwell chuckled. "Remind me to stay on your good side."
Zoelle rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her gaze didn't go unnoticed.
Adam cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Focus, you two. This isn't a game."
Maxwell's expression sobered as he nodded. "You're right. This is serious. We can't afford any mistakes."
Zoelle placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "We'll make it work, Maxwell. We have to."
Maxwell looked down at her hand, his heart skipping a beat. For a moment, the weight of their mission faded, replaced by something softer, something unspoken.
"We will," he said softly, his voice filled with determination. "Together."
Zoelle smiled, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
Adam watched the exchange silently, a knowing look in his eyes.
---
In the dimly lit study of the Jones Castle, Reynold sat alone. The walls were lined with bookshelves and hunting trophies, but the room felt cold and oppressive. A glass of whiskey sat untouched on the desk as Reynold sifted through a stack of photographs.
The images were all of Zoelle, taken without her knowledge. In one, she was tending to a patient at the Lee Pack clinic, her dark hair falling over her face as she worked with delicate precision. In another, she was walking through the woods, her doe-like eyes gazing at something out of frame, her expression soft and serene.
"She's mine," Reynold muttered, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers tightened around a photograph, crumpling its edges. "No one takes what's mine."
His eyes darkened as he stared at the images. "I'll burn the world before I let her go."
The phone on his desk rang, snapping him out of his dark thoughts. Without looking at the screen, he answered it, his tone sharp.
"Did you find her?"
"Reynold, darling," Jolie's voice purred on the other end.
Reynold's expression twisted in anger. He growled and hurled the phone against the wall. It shattered into pieces, the sound echoing through the study.
Jolie, on the other end, pulled her phone away from her ear, her face contorted in rage. "How dare he hang up on me?" she hissed.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. A slow, sinister smile spread across her lips. "Tomorrow, Reynold. Tomorrow, I'll be your fiancée, and everything will fall into place."
The tension in the air was palpable, each moment bringing them closer to a confrontation that would change everything.