Where Soft Light Shines Darkness Fades From Tired Hearts by Evan Holt Crane 446

Third Person’s POV

Over the weekend, Trista invited Xander and Penelope over for a small get–together.

When Penelope walked in, she caught Isaiah lounging shamelessly on the Silverlight sofa.

Finished

The sight sent Isaiah into a panic; he scrambled out the window and jumped back to his own place next door, leaving a single slipper behind.

Xander watched his sister’s chaotic exit and sighed. He was powerless against her energy. “Trista, maybe we should limit Penelope’s visits. Her personality is… a lot for anyone to handle.”

“Oh, come on, Alpha Xander. Don’t be so dramatic,” Trista laughed. She actually found Penelope’s outgoing nature refreshing.

Checking her watch, Trista suggested Xander stay for a game of cards and started making calls to fill the table.

When Sayer walked out from the back room, Xander looked genuinely surprised. “This kid…?”

“It’s the weekend, so I brought him over to liven things up,” Trista explained.

The little guy walked up to Xander with perfect manners. “Hello, Alpha Xander.”

Xander picked Isaiah up, teasing him. “Where’s your dad? Didn’t he come with you?”

Sayer answered with a serious, grounded maturity that defied his age. “I’m not exactly a guest. My godmother said her territory is my home.”

Xander looked back at Trista, impressed. “You see that? This kid is even smoother than Elias.”

While they were joking around, Fred arrived.

With Isaiah joining back in, they had a full house for Texas Hold’em.

Penelope and Atwood sat on the sidelines with little Isaiah to watch the action.

“Isaiah, swap seats,” Trista insisted, wanting to sit across from Fred to play against him.

Little Isaiah watched Trista’s hand for a moment and let out a tiny, sophisticated sigh. “Godmother, we really need to work on your poker face. You should let my dad coach you sometime; he’s never lost a game

in his life.”

Trista felt a flush of embarrassment.

Who would have thought a top–tier med student would lose a psychological war to a six–year–old

werewolf?

Sayer popped a piece of peeled fruit into Trista’s mouth. “I’m just kidding. As long as you’re having fun, my dad can just cover your losses.”

2:55 pm

Finished

Isaiah watched with pure envy. “Hey, kid, want to be my godson too? If I lose, can your dad bail me out?”

The little guy waved him off instantly. “No thanks. I’ve got enough dads. What I’m missing is a mommy.”

The whole room erupted in laughter.

Fred watched the kid work his magic and just shook his head.

“With a wingman like this, Elias doesn’t even have to try,” he thought.

This one kid was effectively buying Trista’s heart for his father.

“Everyone, fix your faces,” Fred said, pulling out his phone. “I’m posting a story.”

He filmed a quick clip and uploaded it to his Instagram.

Minutes later, back at the Ironthorn estate, Cassian scrolled past the post.

In the video, Trista’s parents were in the open kitchen prepping fruit, looking warm and busy.

At the card table, Trista and Xander were laughing and talking.

Sayer was glued to Trista’s side, feeding her snacks and saying something that made her beam with a radiant, genuine smile.

Cassian replayed the video over and over, staring hungrily at every detail.

Once, that warmth belonged to him.

He remembered lounging in that same living room while Trista’s parents treated him like their own son, fussing over him and making sure he had the best of everything.

Back then, Attwater practically worshipped him, trailing behind him and asking his advice on every little thing.

Now, the Silverlight house was still full of life.

But that family warmth had been surgically removed from his world.

He was looking at a parallel universe that no longer included him.

The sound of their laughter in the video felt like a public execution. He felt his soul detaching from his body, drifting into a cold, silent void.

It took his mother’s worried voice calling his name several times to snap him back to reality.

Cassian followed Alaina’s anxious gaze to the head of the table.

Howard was sitting there, his face like stone, his sharp wolf–eyes radiating pure aura,

“Cassian,” Howard said, his voice heavy. “Expanding a territory is like a war. As the Alpha, your moves have to be surgical. Cutting off Blackthorn unilaterally serves zero strategic interest. You’ve been in power for

Finished

2:55 pm

years–how could you make such an amateur mistake?”

Cassian stood up slowly. He began adjusting his cuffs with a methodical, numb precision that made

everyone uneasy.

“Grandfather,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. “The order is already in effect. If the Council believes my leadership is hurting the pack, they are more than welcome to vote for my removal.”

Howard’s face turned a bruised purple. He let out an angry, guttural growl.

Wilmot slammed his hand on the table, standing up to roar at his son. “The Ironthorn throne is yours! Everything we do is to secure your position!”

Sara Lili

Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.