Cecilia’s pov
After another ten minutes of winding through the mountain roads, we finally arrived at our destination.
Yulia’s house stood at the end of a gravel path, nestled against a babbling creek that carved its way through the property.
It was a quintessential Colorado mountain retreat: a two-story log cabin with steep-pitched roofs and a wraparound porch that hugged the house like a favorite sweater.
The exterior was a warm ash gray that blended beautifully with the surrounding landscape.
Wind chimes danced in the breeze, and a pair of macramé chairs swayed lazily on the porch like something out of a travel magazine.
The front yard was full of wildflowers.
Columbines, larkspur, and mountain lupines covered the ground in shades of purple, blue, and white. Their sweet scent filled the air and made the place feel like a hidden garden deep in the woods.
Yulia led us inside with the practiced ease of someone used to hosting guests.
"I’ve set up two rooms for you ladies," she said, leading us up a handcrafted wooden staircase. "The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Fresh towels are on the beds. Please make yourselves at home while I put something together for dinner."
She disappeared downstairs toward what I assumed was the kitchen, leaving us to settle in.
Despite the long trip, I wasn’t even close to tired.
After dropping our bags in our respective rooms, Harper and I stepped out onto the second-floor balcony that wrapped around the house.
We wandered the perimeter, taking in the sharp scent of pine and the crisp mountain air.
"Cece, look over there," Harper whispered, pointing toward a raised plateau to the southeast.
"That house is unreal. It’s not your typical cabin in the woods. There’s a helipad, a couple of Range Rovers, and floor-to-ceiling windows. It looks like something straight out of Architectural Digest."
I followed her gaze and saw it instantly.
It wasn’t just a house. It was a fortress wrapped in glass.
The main building sat at the top of the mountain, sharp-edged and massive, as if someone had dropped a luxury yacht into the forest and left it there.
Three smaller buildings surrounded it, each with perfect lawns and landscaping so clean it looked casual at first glance, but you could tell it was anything but.
Even from here, the message was clear. This wasn’t just wealth. It was control.
"Yeah," I nodded. "That’s next-level money."
Author’s pov
At that moment, Cecilia and Harper had no idea they were looking right at the home of the Locke matriarch.
Twenty-six years ago, the Locke family had been rocked by a scandal that sent shockwaves through both human and werewolf circles.
In its aftermath, the Locke matriarch had retreated to this mountain, a self-imposed exile from which she rarely emerged.
She made occasional appearances at family gatherings during major holidays, but otherwise might as well have vanished from the world.
Few people outside her immediate circle had seen her in person for decades.
Now, the Locke matriarch sat cross-legged in her private meditation room. Her eyes were closed. Her hands rested lightly in her lap.

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The readers' comments on the novel: Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia)
Loving the story. But only 2 pages a day. 😢...