“That’s the problem,” I muttered, scrolling slowly. “The translation doesn’t make sense. It keeps referring to a child of two lights-one born from the sun and the moon together. Something about restoring balance.”
Jake frowned. “Sounds like poetic nonsense.”
“That’s what I thought at first.”
But the more I stared at the text, the less like poetry it felt. At the edge of the page was a faint drawing, barely visible. When I enhanced the contrast, it became clearer.
A figure stood with hands raised, palms outward-holding a sun in one hand and a crescent moon in the other.
Jake whistled softly. “Looks like your ‘nonsense’ has a name.”
I leaned closer, tracing the faded inscription beneath the illustration. The letters were warped and smudged with age, but one word stood out, repeated twice in the text-once beneath the drawing and once near the margin.
“Lunarae,” I whispered.
Jake straightened. “What does it mean?”
“I… don’t know. There’s no direct translation. ‘Lunar’ is obvious, but the rest is a mystery.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The machines’ hum filled the silence.
Then Jake moved to the monitor. “You might want to see this,” he said quietly.
I turned to the screen, which glowed with a faint blue light. Streams of code and graphs scrolled faster than I could follow. To me, it was just numbers and colored lines, but Jake grew very still.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
He didn’t respond immediately. Leaning closer, he adjusted a few settings, his eyes flicking between two graphs displayed side by side.
Finally, he exhaled slowly. “Okay… this shouldn’t be possible.”
I stepped closer, frowning. “Define ‘shouldn’t.’”
He pointed to the data. “That top line? That’s baseline human-what we all have. Even shifters fall within a predictable range. But the second line…” He tapped the screen. “That’s new. A completely separate frequency pattern, but still undeniably hers. No contamination. I double-checked. She’s expressing two bioenergetic signatures at once.”
I stared at the two lines, pulsing in perfect rhythm. “So what does that mean?”
“It means her DNA is doing something I’ve never seen before.” Jake’s voice dropped lower. “It’s harmonizing opposing energies. One’s reactive, lunar-based, if I had to guess. The other’s constant, closer to solar radiation. They shouldn’t be compatible. They should cancel each other out.”
“But they don’t.”
He nodded slowly. “No. They coexist. Perfectly.”
For a long moment, I could only stare. “How? I mean, scientifically…”
He laughed softly. “Scientifically? It defies logic. It’s like trying to fuse fire and ice without either melting or extinguishing the other. Her DNA isn’t fighting the contradiction-it’s using it.”
I turned back to my laptop, the old manuscript still glowing on the screen with its faded symbols and looping script from The Book of First Light. I scrolled to the margin, my heart pounding faster.
The text had mentioned balance before, but now… it felt like it was staring me right in the face.
When sun and moon find harmony within one vessel, the veil shall tremble and be remade.
I whispered the line under my breath, more to myself than to Jake.
He glanced over. “What does that mean?”
“I can’t be sure,” I admitted. “I thought it was an old poem about balance and rebirth. But this…” I gestured between the graphs and the screen. “This is the same thing. The same pattern.”
He stood beside me, scanning the faded page. “We need to run Poppy’s DNA.”
“Jaxon too,” I agreed.
Paige’s DNA wasn’t just unusual; if I was interpreting this correctly, it was ancient-balanced in a way no mortal or shifter bloodline ever could be.
Jake remained focused on the graphs. “If this leaks, Ronnie… if anyone realizes what she really is…”
“I know,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “That’s why we have to keep this quiet. For now.”
He nodded grimly. “I’ll rerun the tests and encrypt everything. But whatever she is, it’s rewriting the rules we thought we understood.”
My gaze drifted back to the screen, watching the twin rhythms pulse in perfect harmony.
If these texts are right, Paige isn’t just rare. She’s the bridge between forces never meant to meet.
The Lunarae. And God help us if the wrong people discover what she truly is before we do.
The morning at the clinic had unfolded at a gentle pace-no emergencies, no frantic cries, and thankfully, no one teetering on the edge of life and death. The quiet hum of the air mixed with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee as I busied myself with unpacking and organizing a large shipment of medical supplies. It was the kind of calm that felt almost surreal in a place where chaos was usually the norm.
Halfway through restocking the herb cupboard, the door creaked open softly.
“Hey,” Jake’s voice floated in, smooth and effortless. Honestly, it wasn’t just a walk he made into the room-it was more like he glided in, as if gravity bent just for him.
I turned around, attempting to maintain my professional composure, but inside, my thoughts were a jumble of flustered nerves and racing heartbeats.
“Hey,” I replied, my tone far too bright for someone trying to play it cool. “You’re back sooner than I expected. I thought you’d be stuck in the lab with Ronnie all day.”
He rolled up his sleeves, and my breath caught-there was something undeniably magnetic about the way those strong forearms flexed under the fabric.
“I was,” he admitted. “But I need to run a few tests here, if that’s okay. On you, actually.”
My mind short-circuited for a moment, a flurry of wildly inappropriate thoughts threatening to take over.
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