I felt like I was in one of those terrifying nightmares, the one where you have to run, run till your lungs burst, but you can't make your body move fast enough. Some say that dreams are or glimpse beyond, others a way to deal with our trauma, but for me dreams are a way for me to run free…. A feeling of strength, of protection. But as I will learn my sister's idea is right, dreams turn to nightmares ever so easily. As she dreads another year, turning 18, I stare down the face of my 16th just a month away…. My world two is stalked by death.

The cold Alaskan wind cuts through the trees, sending a shiver down Kieren's spine. He's been out gathering firewood after his daily hunting trip, and the weight of the logs in his arms is comforting . It's a routine, something that grounds him in this remote wilderness where it's just him and his mother against the elements. The isolation has never bothered him before; he's always been strong even at the age of 16 being tall 6'4 his mothers heritage coming in strong, with his hair Light creamy-colored, smudged with tussles of russet. Usually tied back in a Viking braid, still collecting flecks of snow, warm brown eyes observe this frozen world , capable of handling whatever nature throws at him.

But tonight, something is different, feels different. The forest is unnervingly quiet, the usual sounds of wildlife absent like the moment before a horror jumpscare. Kieren's instincts, honed from years of living on the edge of the wild, prick at the silence. He pauses, scanning the darkening woods around him, muscles tensing as a sense of unease settles in his gut.

Then, out of nowhere, a blur of movement. A figure steps out from the shadows, moving too quickly to be human. Kieren drops the firewood, his body immediately going on the defensive as the figure approaches. He barely has time to register the woman's appearance before she strikes, a cold smile playing on her lips running at an average height of 5'6 and with hair of fire striking against blood red eyes.

Victoria.

Kieren staggers back, the force of the blow sending him reeling, but he doesn't fall. Years of hard labor and an innate physical metahuman strength that's always set him apart keep him on his feet. He looks up at Victoria, confusion and anger swirling in his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

Victoria doesn't answer. Instead, she circles Kieren, her eyes glinting with a predator's hunger. This boy is more than she expected, so strange for one that has the scent of filthy bella, there is something different. Stronger. There's something about him that doesn't add up—a latent power she can't quite place. But there's no time for games. She's here for a kill to make Bella hurt with the death of a sibling she thought she could hide, and nothing more.

Kieren clenches his fists, his knuckles whitening as he feels a surge of adrenaline. He knows he's not normal—he's always known that—but this woman, this thing in front of him, is something else entirely. Kieren's mind races, trying to make sense of it, but he doesn't have the luxury of time he can already feel the dull throb of his rapidly bruising ribs.

Victoria strikes again, but this time, Kieren is ready. He ducks and swings his axe with all his might. The blade should have connected, but instead, Victoria meets the blade with her hand and shatters it with a swift, inhuman movement. Kieren stumbles back, his mind struggling to keep up, that…. "How… How did she do that?".

As he regains his footing, Kieren feels something strange—a subtle, almost imperceptible radar-like sensation brushing against him, like an invisible thread trying to read him, anticipating his every move. Its a strange sensation, emanating from the attacker. Victoria's power, her fight-or-flight reflex guiding her, trying to sense whether she is in danger, but as it washes over Kieren, the threads seem to slide off. As if they cannot grip against the surface of his skin. To her, Kieren is nothing but a non-threat, a blind spot in her senses. But Kieren feels it clearly, that same strong feeling he has, that more than human metahuman-like strength feels what is like spider threads, streaming over his form trying to grab hold.

Instinctively, Kieren reaches out, his power flaring in response, his muscles contracting strongly as he reaches out. He tugs at that invisible thread, and Victoria gasps, her body seizing as a shock runs up her spine like her instincts received a 4000 volt shock. The jolt disrupts her concentration just long enough for Kieren to land a solid punch, his fist connecting just millimeters above his skin, sending her flying across the clearing sprawling to the ground.

For a brief moment, Victoria lies there, stunned. She quickly recovers and darts to her feet, but the shock has left her rattled. Kieren presses his advantage, swinging with everything he's got, his meta strength, only barely keeping up with his demand for it. Another punch connects, then another. He can feel his power amplifying the force behind his blows, each hit landing harder than the last but the durability he has always enjoyed is that the lack of pain is weaker, he feels his knuckles bruise and then split.. Joints popping threatening to crack as he attacks. .

But Victoria is fast—too fast. With a desperate snarl, she retreats, using her unnatural speed to dash away into the trees, her beautiful face covered in jagged stone like cracks that seem to be filling in before his eyes. Kieren stands there, breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The cold night air stings his skin trying to freeze the blood on his scuffed and torn skin, and he realizes, for the first time in a long while glancing at his torn damaged clothing from a fight materials like this weren't supposed to survive, that he's shaken.

What the hell just happened? Kieren thinks, his mind struggling to catch up with the events that just unfolded. He doesn't understand who—or what—that woman was, but he knows one thing for sure: there's something out there in the world, something dangerous, and it's coming for him, whatever abilities he has tentatively discovered and played with… there are others out there who are stronger.

With a sense of urgency, Kieren turns and runs back to the cabin, his heart pounding. He needs to check on his mother, to make sure she's okay. But when he bursts through the door, his world stops the cabin is beaten up, torn furniture, and broken belongings but worst of all..

There, lying on the floor, is his mother. Her lifeless eyes stare up at the ceiling, her body broken and cold pale as if drained. Kieren falls to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he reaches out to touch her. She's gone. The only person who's ever mattered to him, the one who raised him, protected him, is gone.

Kieren's mind reels, the reality of the situation crashing down on him like a wave. He was too late. Whatever that monster was, it killed her before he could stop it. A raw, agonizing grief wells up inside him, mingling with the burning anger that threatens to consume him.

As he holds his mother's body, Kieren makes a silent vow. He doesn't know what that woman was, but he will find out. He will become stronger, more powerful, and he will make sure that nothing like this ever happens again. He will avenge his mother, no matter what it takes.

But for now, all he can do is grieve, alone in the cold, unforgiving wilderness, with nothing but the howling wind and the knowledge that the world is far darker than he ever imagined. [A New Beginning]

The days following Kieren's mother's death are a blur of grief and confusion. The cabin that once felt so warm and secure now feels like a hollow shell, filled with memories that sting like open wounds. He's alone, truly alone for the first time in his life, and the weight of that reality is crushing.

But Kieren isn't the type to wallow in despair. His mother raised him to be strong, to face challenges head-on. And so, after the initial shock wears off, he does what he must. He buries her in the clearing behind the cabin, beneath the tall pine trees she loved so much. It's a simple ceremony, just him, the cold earth, and the silent sky, he hangs a framed portrait of her against the tree. Ayiana Black, scrawled in Kierens best attempt at a neat elegant script, along the base of the frame, the picture showing Ayiana, in a candid shot, her slender and strong frame of elegant quiet grace, relaxed curled up by the fire, a bundle blankets and Kieren in her arms, her long black hair, dotted with the first couple silver strands, loosely tied in a braid over her shoulder. High cheekbones and proud nose, showing off her smile, both radiant and beautiful lighting up her face. Kieren… stands before the private grave now freshly full, doesn't say much—there's no need. His grief eventually cried out in private, buried deep inside where no one can see it. A kid used to nothing but being a cub with his mother bear is now out on his own as a teen who has to learn just how cruel the world is and how to stand against it all. .

In the days that follow, Kieren goes through her belongings, searching for something—anything—that might give him a clue about what to do next. He finds old letters, photographs, and a few trinkets from a life she never fully explained. Among them, he finds a letter addressed to him, written in his mother's neat curly handwriting.

Kieren sits down at the small kitchen table, legs still not right after the fight and crack in them, the letter trembling in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he unfolds it and begins to read.

Dear Kieren, my beautiful baby bear cub

If you're reading this, it means I'm no longer with you, and for that, I'm sorry. I wish I could have been there to guide you, to explain things that I know you've always wondered about. But life doesn't always give us what we want. We live a hard life out here, and I hope you feel i've done my best for you, I love you with every part of my being.

There are things I never told you, secrets I kept to protect you. The world is a dangerous place, Kieren, and you are more than you know, don't think ive missed how you've started carrying things more then using the sled. Your father—Charlie—Charlie is a good man, even if I never told him about you. He lives in Forks, Washington. If you're ever in need, please go to him. He'll take care of you, I'm sure of it. My, brother Billy sweet big brother billy i'm sure will but his way in, with your cousin and all.

You have a gift, Kieren, one that's tied to the bloodline of the Quileute people, to my family. I never wanted you to be burdened by it, but you need to know that you're not like other people. You have a part in things that seem out of this world, remember our bedtime stories my cub, of the spirit of the moon and the soul of the forest. But be careful. There are things out there, creatures that are drawn to power like yours. Stay vigilant, my son, and remember that you are never truly alone.

I love you, always.

Momma bear

Kieren reads the letter twice, then a third time, letting the words sink in. It's a lot to take in—more than he expected. The mention of his father, a man he's never known, sends a pang of something—anger, curiosity, fear—through his chest. But the rest of it, about his abilities and the dangers out there… that feels all too real after what happened with the woman who attacked him.

The thought of going to Forks, of meeting this Charlie Swan, feels strange. But what choice does he have? He can't stay in Alaska, not with his mother gone and the cabin filled with ghosts. Not before he can legally buy what he needs to survive up here…. He needs answers, and if this man is his father, maybe he can provide them.

The next morning, Kieren packs what little he has into a duffel bag. Before he leaves, he takes one last look at the cabin, at the grave beneath the pines. He whispers a quiet goodbye, then turns and walks away without looking back.

As he heads south, toward a town he's never seen and a father he's never known, Kieren feels a resolve hardening inside him. He's no longer just a kid from the wilderness—he's something more. And whatever awaits him in Forks, he'll face it head-on, just like his mother would have wanted.

But as he walks away from the only home he's ever known, Kieren can't shake the feeling that he's not alone. There's a darkness out there, something that killed his mother, something that's still watching. And whatever it is, he's going to find it. And when he does, he'll make sure it never hurts anyone else again.

[THE MOVE TO FORKS]

The gloomy Forks afternoon was wrapped in the usual grey drizzle, a constant companion to the town's slow, sleepy pace. Inside the police station, Chief Charlie Swan worked through the day's paperwork. Reports of minor disturbances, wildlife complaints, and the occasional speeding ticket filled his desk, keeping him occupied. It was a quiet day, the kind Charlie usually preferred—no emergencies, no trouble. Just the steady, uneventful hum of small-town life.

That quiet was interrupted when Officer Markson, one of the newer recruits, knocked on the door to his office. Charlie looked up, expecting the usual update, but Markson's expression was uncertain, almost hesitant.

"Chief," Markson said, clearing his throat, "there's someone here to see you. A young man. Says his name is Kieren Thompson. He mentioned Aiyana Black."

Charlie froze. The name hit him like a shock to the system, pulling him out of his routine. Aiyana Black. It had been years since he last heard that name, and even longer since he'd seen the woman it belonged to. A flood of memories washed over him—memories of late nights, quiet conversations, and a bond that had been brief but intense. Aiyana had been there for him during one of the darkest times in his life, after Renee left with Bella. But then she disappeared, leaving the reservation for Alaska with hardly a word, vanishing from his life.

His heart raced as he processed what Markson had said. "Aiyana Black." What could this boy possibly want? Why now?

"Send him in," Charlie finally said, his voice gruff but laced with an undercurrent of emotion he hadn't felt in years.

Markson nodded and stepped aside. The door opened wider, and Kieren Thompson walked in. Charlie's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight before him. The young man who entered the room was massive—easily six feet ten, maybe more, with a frame that spoke of sheer power. He was broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, his clothes slightly too small, hinting at rapid growth. His hair, a light creamy color smudged with tussles of russet, was tied back in a Viking braid that hung down his back, accentuating the natural strength in his features. But it was his eyes—deep brown mixed with chocolate brown—that held Charlie's attention. They were filled with a quiet intensity, yet there was a shadow of something else beneath the surface—pain, perhaps, or something even deeper.

Charlie couldn't help but notice the way Kieren moved—carefully, as though he was nursing an injury. His large hands were calloused, but there were fresh scabs across his knuckles, the kind you get from hitting something hard. And when Kieren shifted slightly, Charlie spotted a hint of discomfort, a hand brushing against his chest as if there was something sore beneath the fabric.

There was something unmistakably familiar about him, something that tugged at Charlie's memory, even though he had never seen this young man before. The realization began to dawn on him, but it was still too surreal to fully grasp.

"Kieren?" Charlie asked, his voice betraying his confusion and the flicker of recognition. "Come in, have a seat."

Kieren nodded, stepping forward with a cautious gait. Despite his size and obvious strength, there was a restrained carefulness to his movements, as if he were wary of his own power or of aggravating an unseen injury. He took a seat across from Charlie, his eyes never leaving the older man's face.

There was a tense silence between them, a moment heavy with unspoken questions. Charlie could feel the air crackle with uncertainty, but also with something more—a connection he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Finally, Charlie found his voice. "You mentioned Aiyana Black… How do you know her?"

Kieren's expression hardened slightly, and Charlie saw the flash of something pained in the young man's eyes. It made his chest tighten, the realization of what this could mean starting to weigh heavily on him.

"She was my mother," Kieren said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of loss. "She died a few weeks ago."

The words hit Charlie like a physical blow. Aiyana was dead? He hadn't seen her in so long, but he never expected this. Guilt, grief, and a thousand other emotions surged through him, leaving him momentarily speechless.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Charlie managed to say, his voice rough with emotion. "I didn't know. I—"

Kieren cut him off gently. "She left something for you. A letter." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a worn envelope, handing it to Charlie. The paper was aged and creased, Charlie's name written in Aiyana's familiar handwriting. The sight of it made his hands tremble slightly as he took it.

"She also left one for me," Kieren continued, his voice steady despite the turmoil that clearly roiled beneath the surface. "That's how I found out… about you."

Charlie's heart skipped a beat. "About me?" he repeated, barely able to process what Kieren was saying.

Kieren nodded. "In the letter, she told me who my father was."

Charlie's world tilted on its axis. The realization crashed over him like a tidal wave. Kieren wasn't just some kid looking for answers—he was his son. His and Aiyana's. The memories flooded back even more intensely now—how she had been there for him, the way she had comforted him, how they had been drawn together in their shared loneliness. And now, the product of that brief connection was sitting across from him, a young man nearly seven feet tall, carrying the weight of Aiyana's final words.

"I don't… I don't know what to say," Charlie whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea. Kieren, if I had known…"

"I believe you," Kieren replied, his voice softening. "She didn't want you to know back then. But she realized it wasn't fair. She wanted me to come here, to meet you She said… she didn't tell you because she didn't want to complicate your life after Renee left. But she regretted it. She was going to tell you, but she she didn't get the chance… I take your time, r read your letter, I know it took me a while to read mine."

Charlie stared at the letter in his hands, unable to bring himself to open it just yet. The emotions were too raw, too overwhelming. But as he looked at Kieren—at his son—he felt a powerful resolve begin to form. He picks up a letter opener and cracks the seal.

{Aiyana's Letter to Charlie}

Dear Charlie,

I never imagined I would write a letter like this, but life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it? If you're reading this, then something happened to me before I could tell you the truth in person. I hope you understand that I wanted to say this face-to-face. I wanted to see your eyes when you heard it, to hear your voice when you spoke back to me. But fate has its own plans, and if I'm gone, then at least I can say this now.

Charlie, I have a son. His name is Kieren Thompson, and he is yours. Ours.

I know this must be a shock. I can almost see you there, sitting with this letter, your brows furrowed the way they always did when something was on your mind. You're probably angry, confused, maybe even hurt. And you have every right to be. I should have told you about Kieren years ago. You deserved to know, and so did he. But I was scared, Charlie. Scared of what it would mean for you, for him, for us.

When I found out I was pregnant, you were still reeling from what happened with Renee. You were hurting, and I didn't want to add more to your burden. I didn't want to complicate your life any further. I told myself that it was better this way, that I could handle it on my own, and that you didn't need another problem to deal with. So I left Forks and moved to Alaska, thinking I was doing what was best for everyone.

But over the years, as I watched Kieren grow up, I realized how wrong I was. He deserved to know his father. And you, Charlie, deserved to know your son. I see so much of you in him—your strength, your stubbornness, and your kindness. He's a good boy, Charlie, but he's been through so much. Too much for someone so young. He's had to grow up fast, just like you did.

I was going to come back, you know. I had finally made up my mind to tell you everything, to bring Kieren home to Forks and let him meet his father. But if you're reading this, it means I never got that chance. So I'm asking you, Charlie, begging you, really—take him in. He needs you, now more than ever. I'm sure by now, he's found his way to you. Don't let him push you away. Don't let him carry this burden alone.

I know it's a lot to ask, especially after all these years. But Kieren is a good kid. He just needs someone to guide him, to show him that he's not alone. You can do that, Charlie. I know you can. You've always had a way of making people feel safe, of making them feel like they belong. Kieren needs that, and he needs you.

I'm sorry, Charlie. I'm sorry for keeping this from you, for not trusting you with the truth sooner. I hope you can forgive me. But more than that, I hope you can find it in your heart to be there for Kieren, to be the father he needs. He's your son, Charlie. And he's a part of you, just as much as he's a part of me.

Take care of him. Love him. Protect him. And know that I never stopped caring about you, even after all these years. You were always in my heart, and you always will be.

With all my love,

Aiyana

~~Charlie's Thoughts as He Reads the Letter~~

As Charlie read Aiyana's words, his hands trembled slightly, the weight of her confession settling heavily on his chest. He could almost hear her voice in his head, soft and soothing, just like it had been all those years ago. The memories came flooding back—late nights in the kitchen with coffee cups cooling on the table, the way she'd always known just what to say to help him feel less alone, and those fleeting moments when their friendship had turned into something more.

He remembered how she'd been there when Renee left, how she'd picked up the pieces when his world fell apart. And now, he realized that she'd been carrying a secret all this time, one that he had every right to know, but that she'd kept hidden out of fear, out of love.

Kieren. His son. The words echoed in Charlie's mind, each one hitting him like a hammer to the heart. How could he not have known? How could he have missed it? But as he thought back to the young man who had walked into his office, so tall, so strong, yet carrying such a heavy burden, he began to see the truth. The eyes, the way he moved, the quiet determination in his voice—it was all there, the pieces of himself reflected in a son he never knew existed.

The anger he thought he might feel never came. Instead, there was a deep sadness, a regret that gnawed at him for all the years they'd lost. But there was also a spark of something else—hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late to do right by Kieren. Aiyana had trusted him with this, had believed in him enough to ask him to be the father Kieren needed. And he would be. He had to be.

Charlie folded the letter carefully, placing it back into the envelope with hands that were steadier now. He looked up at Kieren, who was watching him with those deep, knowing eyes, and felt a wave of determination wash over him. Whatever it took, he would be there for Kieren. He wouldn't let Aiyana down. Not this time.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stood up, the letter still clutched in his hand. "Kieren," he said, his voice filled with resolve, "I don't know what's ahead, but I want you to know—you're not alone. You've got me, and whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Kieren nodded, his expression softening just a bit, as if some of the weight on his shoulders had been lifted. And in that moment, Charlie knew—he was ready to be the father his son needed, just as Aiyana had asked.

~~Charlie's Perspective: Taking Kieren Home~~

The cruiser's engine rumbled softly beneath them as Charlie drove through the quiet streets of Forks, the late afternoon sunlight casting long shadows across the road. His hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter than usual, the leather worn smooth from years of use. He kept his eyes forward, watching the road, but his thoughts were anything but calm.

Kieren sat in the passenger seat, his tall frame folded into the cruiser's cramped interior. The kid—no, his son—was too big for the seat, his knees almost brushing the dashboard. He was quiet, almost unnervingly so, his gaze fixed out the window as the town rolled by. His clothes were too small, like they'd shrunk overnight, and there was a faint tension in the way he held himself, as if every movement was a careful calculation. Charlie noticed how Kieren's chest rose and fell just a little too shallowly, the kid favoring one side. And then there were the scabs on his knuckles, the signs of a fight that Charlie could only guess at. It was clear the boy had been through hell—more than Charlie could imagine.

But what weighed on Charlie even more was what awaited them at home. Bella—his Bella—had been a ghost of herself ever since the Cullens left. It had been weeks since her birthday, since that night in the forest when she'd come back to him, hollow and shattered. He'd found her wandering alone, barely responsive, and she hadn't been the same since. The vibrant, sharp-witted girl he knew had faded into a shadow, lost in her own world of grief and heartache. She barely spoke, barely ate, and when she did sleep, it was fitful, haunted by nightmares that Charlie couldn't chase away.

And now, he was bringing Kieren—her half-brother—into this mess. A son he hadn't known existed until a few hours ago. How the hell was he supposed to explain all this to her? How was he supposed to help her through this when he was barely keeping it together himself?

As they neared the house, Charlie's gaze flicked over to Kieren. The boy hadn't said much since they'd left the station, just a few quiet answers to Charlie's questions. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a weight that Charlie recognized all too well. It was the same look he saw in the mirror every morning, the look of someone carrying the burden of lost time and missed chances.

He cleared his throat, the silence in the car becoming too much. "You hungry?" he asked, glancing over at Kieren.

Kieren turned his head slightly, meeting Charlie's gaze for the first time in what felt like hours. "I could eat," he replied, his voice low and steady, though there was a hint of exhaustion there too.

"Good," Charlie said, trying to sound more upbeat than he felt. "We can grab something when we get home. I'm not much of a cook, but we've got some leftovers from the diner. It's not much, but it'll do."

Kieren nodded, and the silence settled back in. Charlie wanted to say more, to ask about Alaska, about Aiyana, about what Kieren had been through. But he didn't know where to start. He wasn't good with words, never had been. And right now, it felt like anything he said would only scratch the surface of what needed to be said.

They turned onto his street, the familiar sight of the house coming into view. Charlie's stomach tightened. Bella's truck was parked in the driveway, the old Chevy looking out of place next to the cruiser. She was home. She was always home these days, except for when she wandered out to the woods, searching for something Charlie couldn't understand.

As he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, Charlie took a deep breath. This was it. Time to face the music.

"Here we are," he said, the words coming out more awkward than he intended. He glanced over at Kieren again, searching for something in the boy's expression, but Kieren was hard to read. There was a guardedness there, a wall that Charlie knew would take time to break down.

They both got out of the car, and Charlie noticed how Kieren moved—cautiously, like he was still getting used to his own body. That injury on his chest was bothering him more than he'd let on, but Charlie didn't push it. The boy had been through enough.

"Bella's... she's been having a rough time," Charlie said quietly as they walked toward the house. He wasn't sure how much Kieren knew about Bella, about the Cullens, about everything that had happened. But he figured it was better to prepare him. "She's not herself right now. Just... give her some space, okay? She'll come around, but it might take a while."

Kieren nodded, but he didn't say anything. Charlie couldn't blame him. This wasn't exactly the warm family reunion anyone would hope for.

As they reached the front door, Charlie hesitated for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. He could hear the faint hum of the television inside, but there was no other sound. He took another deep breath, then pushed the door open.

The house was quiet, too quiet. The living room was dimly lit, the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. Bella was curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes fixed on the television but not really seeing it. She looked so small, so fragile, and it twisted something deep in Charlie's chest.

"Bella," he called softly, his voice gentle. "I'm home."

She didn't respond at first, just kept staring at the screen. But after a moment, she turned her head slightly, her eyes blinking as if coming out of a fog. When she saw Kieren standing next to Charlie, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Bella, this is Kieren," Charlie said, trying to keep his voice steady. "He's... well, he's your half-brother. I know it's a lot to take in, but... we'll figure it out together."

Bella stared at Kieren, her eyes wide and searching, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Charlie watched her carefully, worried about how she would react. But to his surprise, she didn't look angry or upset. Instead, there was a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or recognition. Like she could see a part of herself in Kieren, just as Charlie had.

"Hi," Kieren said quietly, his voice soft and a little uncertain.

Bella didn't say anything, just gave a small nod. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough for Charlie.

"Come on," Charlie said, breaking the silence. "Let's get you settled in. We'll talk more later, once everyone's had a chance to catch their breath."

Kieren followed Charlie down the hallway, his footsteps heavy on the old wooden floorboards. As Charlie led him to the spare bedroom, he couldn't help but feel the weight of everything that had just happened, and everything that was still to come.

This was his family now—his son, his daughter, both of them hurting in ways he couldn't fully understand. But he would do whatever it took to help them heal, to make things right. Because that's what Aiyana had asked of him, and because deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

As they reached the door to the spare room, Charlie turned to Kieren, offering a small, reassuring smile. "It's not much, but it's home. You'll be safe here."

Kieren met his gaze, and for the first time, Charlie saw a glimmer of something in those deep brown eyes—maybe trust, maybe hope. It was a small step, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

~~Bella's Perspective: Meeting Kieren~~

Bella blinked slowly, her mind struggling to catch up with what she was seeing. The sound of the TV droned in the background, but the words didn't register. All she could focus on was the boy—no, the man—standing beside her dad. Kieren, he'd said. Her half-brother.

Half-brother.

The idea felt surreal, like something out of one of those soap operas she used to mock. And yet, there he was, tall and broad-shouldered, with eyes that mirrored her own. The resemblance to Charlie was uncanny. The same set of his jaw, the same serious, quiet demeanor. But there was something else about Kieren that caught her off guard. He looked...familiar. Not just in a "family resemblance" sort of way, but in a way that tugged at memories she couldn't quite place.

Her gaze lingered on his features—his warm russet skin tone, the dark hair tied back in a Viking braid, and those deep brown eyes. There was something almost...Quileute about him. It reminded her of Jacob, but why would her half-brother look like someone from the reservation? Bella's thoughts spun as she tried to piece together the puzzle. Who was his mother? How had she never known about him until now?

And then there was his size. Kieren was tall—taller than Charlie by a long shot, taller even than Jacob, who had been hitting growth spurts like crazy. But Kieren's height didn't have the awkwardness Jake's did. It was solid, well-proportioned, like he'd been made to take up space. Bella's eyes traveled up from his large, calloused hands, noting the way his clothes looked almost too small on him, stretched over his broad chest and shoulders.

When had Charlie ever mentioned knowing someone this tall?

Bella's mind tried to reconcile the words "half-brother" with what she was seeing. If Kieren was her half-brother, that meant Charlie had a past she didn't know about—a past that involved someone else, someone who might be connected to the reservation. But who? And why hadn't she ever heard of Kieren before?

The questions swirled in her mind, making her feel even more unsettled. The idea of a sibling, a family member she'd never known, felt strange and almost intrusive, like he was a ghost from a life she'd never lived. And yet, as familiar as he seemed, he was also a stark reminder of how much had changed—how much she had changed.

Then her thoughts drifted to Kieren's size again. He was taller than Emmett. Emmett, who had always been the biggest presence in any room, with his easy grin and boisterous laugh. Kieren was taller, bigger, even though he didn't have Emmett's bulk. The comparison brought everything rushing back. The way Emmett used to joke with her, the way Rosalie would roll her eyes at his antics. And Edward—God, Edward. His absence was still a raw wound, throbbing with every heartbeat. Even now, weeks later, she could barely breathe without feeling like she was drowning in the loss of him.

And here was Kieren, this stranger, this reminder of everything she didn't know about her own family. Her half-brother. But who was his mother? And why did he look like he came from the reservation?

Bella tore her gaze away, feeling a fresh wave of exhaustion wash over her. She didn't know what to make of Kieren, of any of this. All she knew was that things were different now. And different was terrifying.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her, retreating back into the safety of her thoughts, but the image of Kieren, so much like Charlie, lingered at the edges of her mind. She felt the faint stirrings of something she hadn't felt in a long time—curiosity, maybe even hope. But she buried it quickly, too afraid to let herself feel anything more than the numbness that had become her constant companion.