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Chapter 24 - 24

The morning air tasted like salt and possibility.

The ocean was quieter than usual—waves curling slow and sleepy against the shore, like the sea itself didn't want to wake. I stood barefoot on the back porch of Margot's coastal house, hoodie zipped to my chin, carry-on suitcase waiting by the door like a dog trained too well.

This was it.

My last sunrise in this town of halfway places.

Where no one whispered about lineage. Where my skin wasn't a question. Where I wasn't the dark-skinned girl with the wrong mother and the wrong voice. Where I wasn't heir to anything. Or expected to be.

Just Dwyn.

Just me.

Behind me, Margot bustled through the kitchen like a one-woman military unit—slinging protein bars, checking plug adapters, whispering war prayers to the god of boarding passes.

"Your passport's in your side pocket. Don't argue, I triple-checked. Snacks in your crossbody. Emergency phone charger in the front zipper. And you are not allowed to cry until the gate—understood?"

"You say that like you're not gonna sob in the car," I called back, my voice scratchy with nerves and unslept dreams.

She didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

Some goodbyes were too tender for words.

We drove to the airport with the windows down and the music low. I watched the horizon blur past, the sky smeared with sleepy gold and blue, and tried not to look back.

When we pulled up to the terminal, I had twenty-seven minutes until check-in.

And I still hadn't breathed properly.

Then—headlights.

A familiar silver SUV.

My heart slammed into my ribs.

The passenger door opened, and a hurricane of limbs and glitter and noise came barreling toward me.

"DWYYYNNNN!""YOU'RE REALLY LEAVING US?!?""WAIT—MY HAIR! BRAID MY HAIR!"

The triplets hit me full-force—Viora, Liora, and Fiora—talking over each other at volume ten, arms wrapped around my waist, legs clinging to my shins like seaweed.

They smelled like home. Like forest pine and marshmallow cereal and too much body spray. I hugged them back, laughing through a sting in my eyes.

Then I saw them.

Cecil, stepping out slowly in a linen coat, eyes glossy but proud.

And Duskthorn.

Alpha. My father. Towering as ever. Usually unreadable.

But not today.

He looked older somehow, like the morning light didn't want to touch him. His jaw was clenched, arms crossed loosely like he didn't trust what they'd do if he let them move.

"Papa?" I whispered, stepping toward him.

He didn't say anything.

Just pulled me into his chest, tight and sudden. The kind of hug that builds walls around a heart and then softly lets it go.

"You don't have to be fearless," he said, voice gruff and near my ear. "But don't forget what's inside you."

I frowned against his shirt. "What does that mean?"

He didn't answer at first.

Instead, he eased back, took a small box from his coat, and pressed it into my hands. Carved wood. Smooth edges. Old.

"What's—?"

"Not here," he said quietly. "Not now. But one day, soon... you'll understand."

I met his eyes. Dark. Deep. Fierce in the way only fathers are.

"There's more to your voice than you know, Dwyn."

He touched my cheek, fingers warm and sure. "When the time is right, it'll call you home."

I wanted to ask what he meant. To press. But Cecil stepped in, arms already wrapping around me.

"We're proud of you," she said, her voice thick. "So proud it feels like grief and joy all tangled up."

I squeezed her back, tight. "Thank you. For always letting me be me."

The triplets shoved tiny handmade bracelets into my pockets—each one too glittery and misspelled to sell anywhere, but perfect in every way.

"So the other girls know you'reoursuperstar," Liora said with a dramatic sniffle.

"I'll wear them on stage," I promised.

Even if I didn't make it that far. Even if this whole thing burned up on reentry—I'd keep these pieces of them near me. Always.

And then the call came over the speakers.

Boarding.

Time to go.

I hugged each of them again. Longer. Harder. Whispering things I couldn't say out loud. Things only pack could understand.

Then I turned toward the gate.

Margot grabbed my hand one last time.

"You ready?"

I looked ahead.

Toward Seoul. Toward lights and pressure and names I hadn't earned yet. Toward something I didn't understand, but felt rumbling beneath my ribs like a tide pulling me forward.

"No," I whispered. "But I'm going anyway."

With my heart in pieces, my bag heavy with home, and a box I didn't understand yet pressed tight to my chest—

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The main hall at Bighit HQ gleamed like it had something to prove—steel polished to a mirror shine, spotlighted like a stage none of us had auditioned for. The overhead lights were too white, too clinical. They didn't just illuminate, they exposed.

I stayed in the back, half-shadowed, hood up, jaw tight. One headphone in. No music playing.

Just existing quietly enough not to be noticed.

Idols clustered around me in curated chaos—perfect cheekbones, perfect postures, perfect lies behind glassy eyes. All of us were tired. This announcement had been framed as a "global initiative rollout." Which usually meant a vague collab or corporate expansion.

Whatever. I had more important things to be annoyed about.

Until the screen lit up.

Until she happened.

The LED flared into color, a pulse of dark electric blue across the room.

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT

Creative Division | Global Girl Group Initiative

7 Members. 1 Mission. A new era in fusion sound.

Profiles flickered by:

Rhea Solane — Inverness.

Aya Matsuda — Tokyo.

Camille Sora — Paris.

Lulu Imani — Palma.

Nevaeh Reed — New York.

Yuna Ko — Busan.

Each one striking. A supergroup in the making.

But then…the screen flashed once more.

And there she was.

DWYN DUSKTHORN

Origin: North America

Role: Main Vocal

Specialty: Untrained Siren Tonality

Heritage: Unknown

Arrival: Today

The hall stilled.

Her image filled the wall in front of us—and filled my lungs with lightning.

Not glamour. Not gloss. Just her.

And gods—what was she?

She had skin like dusk. Rich, velvety brown that made her look carved from shadow and gold. Her box braids tumbled past her shoulders like living ink, tips beaded in copper that glinted under the harsh lights. She wore no makeup. No sparkle. No manufactured softness.

Only gravity.

Her eyes were the real showstopper.Silver. Storm-silver. That strange, impossible shade between cloudlight and steel. The kind of eyes that didn't ask for attention—theycommanded it.They made you feel like she already knew your name and not in a good way, in thedangerousway, theholyway. Like she'd sing once and you'd follow her off a cliff.

My wolf lunged forward inside me like it had been asleep for years and finally smelled home.

There she is. There she is. THERE.

Shut up,I hissed silently.

But it was too late.

My wolf, Dal, whined. Look at her. Moon-warmed. Storm-forged. Made to be ours.

My throat closed up.

Because… yeah. She did look like the kind of girl you didn't survive.

A wildfire in bare feet.

A lullaby with teeth.

A question you could never answer and couldn't stop asking.

Even her posture—she stood like someone raised to fight for everything she'd ever been given, but too proud to beg. Too strong to bend. Shoulders square, chin high, mouth set in something like quiet defiance.

She looked like legacy.

Like the kind of power wolves whispered about and kings feared waking.

The name—Duskthorn—confirmed it.

Old forest pack. Thought extinct. And her? She was its echo. Its return. In jeans and a hoodie. With a voice that cracked open everything I thought I knew about control.

The other idols whispered.

"Is she mixed?"

"That's not her real name, right?"

"She doesn't even look real—"

But I was too far gone to care.

Dal—traitorous, pathetic—had already started howling on the inside.

Ours. She's ours. Ours to guard. To follow. To kneel for.

I ground my teeth. My nails bit into my palms.

No.

I'm not kneeling to no one.

She's just a trainee.

She doesn't even know I exist.

And I'm not doing this.

But my world had already tilted.

Not because she was pretty.

But because she was.

And I was about to lose everything I thought made me strong… just by being in the same building as her.

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