Kate Cross

Begin Again

Copyright © 2025 by Kate Cross

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Kate Cross asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

This book is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. It contains explicit sexual content, strong language, and themes that may be triggering for some readers. Recommended for ages 18 and up.

Reader discretion is advised.

First edition

ISBN: 979-8-9929570-0-6

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For the ones carrying secrets, the ones who ran, and the ones who stayed. You are seen. You are loved.

And for the reader holding this book—welcome to Shadow Grove.

Some wounds look like memories. Some memories feel like warnings.

Acknowledgments

To my husband—thank you for every Saturday morning you took the boys so I could dive back into Shadow Grove. Your support means more to me than I’ll ever be able to put into words, and this book wouldn’t exist without your love, your patience, and your belief in me.

To my godmother, sisters, and my best friend—thank you for letting me call and text you with completely unhinged plot ideas at the worst possible hours. You never told me I was crazy (at least not seriously), and you always reminded me that I could do this. I love you more than I can say.

To Aly and Jenni—I would’ve never done this without you. Thank you for being there every step of the way, answering questions, hyping me up, and reminding me that yes, I can actually do this.

To my Beta team and ARC readers: You are the MVPs. You read the early drafts, loved the characters, and helped shape this book even better than I ever imagined. I’m so grateful.

This story was born out of late nights, big emotions, and a dream to build a life where I could continue to stay home with my boys. Thank you for helping make that dream a little more real.

1

Selene

There’s something beautiful about a fresh start in a small mountain town. No one has seen my past, my awkward preteen years, or whispers about my mother’s demons. There are no pitying glances about when my life imploded. There is a clean slate—a blank canvas for me to repaint my story.

Driving down Main Street I notice an eerie quiet in Shadow Grove that makes me pause. Usually, Aubrey could be seen flagging people down so she could share the latest town gossip or talk about what she saw on the news last night. She loves to hang out at Bear and Brew, the most amazing cafe I’ve ever been to, the coffee that could inspire loyalty, and the kind of baked goods that could tempt angels to sin.

Is there a holiday today I forgot about?

That’s the only thing that would make sense about why the town is so quiet. I can get so lost in work that entire days vanish before I notice. Thankfully, as a graphic designer, I can set my schedule. Umbra is my only client, and since they’re a world-renowned music group, I don’t have to worry about picking up any more clients.

I get access to all their music as it’s written and recorded so I can collaborate on designs for their veils and album art. It’s a job that most people would kill for. But for me, it’s more than a job—it’s an escape. A way to pour myself into a greater purpose—one just out of reach. It’s given me a sense of purpose that I lost somewhere along the way.

My grip tightens around the leather leash. My favorite hiking boots crunch softly against the gravel path as we amble through the trail. The late afternoon sun bathes Shadow Grove’s woods in a golden glow, softening the edges of this new place I call home and makes the world feel a little less sharp as if the whole town exists in the golden hour of a long-forgotten dream.

It has only been a few weeks since I moved to Shadow Grove, but this place already feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever been. Mom’s house was never a home—not when her love for the bottle drowned out everything else, including me and my siblings. And Atlanta? That city had given me nothing but a broken heart and a toxic relationship with a sailor who decided that ‘being single’ was more important than helping me pick up the pieces of my life. After him, I swore off men for good—no more wasting time on people who only show up when it benefits them.

Now, with Valkyrie trotting faithfully beside me, I feel… almost settled. Not quite. Not yet. But closer.

Valkyrie’s ears twitch at a sound in the distance, her sleek red body poised as if ready to spring into action. I smile down at her, grateful—and a little amused—at how quickly the dog has become my constant companion.

I have never had any type of pet before. Mom could barely take care of herself—let alone her kids. There is no way we would have been able to add a pet to the mix. But after leaving Atlanta and starting over, I needed to make this new chapter feel like my own story. Orion, my overbearing younger brother, had insisted I get a dog for protection.

Scratch that–

Orion never asks—he demands. He held me hostage until I made him two promises: firstly, that I’d get a top-of-the-line security system that he approved of.

And secondly, I needed a guard dog.

He sent me 13 different companies that train dogs as well as a list of different breeds that made great companions and could scare away an intruder. He was ready to ship me a canine soldier. Instead, I did what I do best—I found my own way.

I told him I would look into the companies he sent me but while I was researching I accidentally stumbled on a video of a failed TSA dog and knew that was the step I wanted to take. Yes, I could’ve taken a dog that was already trained or put them through training, but seeing their little quirks and why they failed training just made them so much more endearing.

The way their “failures” turned into personality traits spoke to me—like they were a little broken but still perfect in their own way. Like me.

After flying to Texas and looking at Valkyrie in her hazel eyes, I knew I made the right choice. The Doberman had a commanding presence, all sleek lines and intelligent eyes. She was beautiful, powerful… and utterly baffling. Valkyrie’s ‘failure’ as a working dog had quickly revealed itself: she was hopelessly distracted by shiny objects. Whether it was a glinting coin, someone’s annoyingly shiny water tumbler, or even a discarded gum wrapper, Valkyrie’s laser focus would crumble in an instant. More than once, our walks had been delayed by her single-minded pursuit of a glimmering prize.

I laugh under my breath as Valkyrie veers towards the trail, nose glued to the ground, tail wagging. Sure enough, the dog emerges triumphantly a second later, a crumpled soda can dangling from her teeth like a trophy.

Her eyes shine with pride as if she’s just uncovered buried treasure instead of someone’s trash.

“Seriously, Valkyrie?” I ask, my voice tinged with affection. Crouching down, I grab at the can. “You know, normal dogs fetch sticks. But no, you have to go for the recyclable trash. You’re like a magpie in a Doberman’s body.”

Valkyrie wags her tail in response, nubbing harder, hazel eyes shining with smug satisfaction. She knows exactly what she’s done. I can’t help but laugh as I shake my head, prying the can free and tucking it into the bag I started carrying for her trophies. Valkyrie’s quirks had taken some getting used to, but in a way, they made her all the more endearing. A little too endearing, considering I should probably be teaching her better manners instead of enabling her trash-hoarding tendencies. But here we are. The little weirdo is impossible to stay mad at.

“Come on.” Rising to my feet, I give the leash a gentle tug. “Let’s see if we can make it through the trail without filling up the bag again. Last time, I had to get creative transporting your treasures.”

We make it almost back to the entrance— having only picked up a few more trophies —when disaster strikes. Valkyrie spots a shiny object in the distance. She lunges forward, yanking the leash from my hand.

“Valkyrie, HEEL!”

She ignores me, sprinting toward a hiker’s water tumbler.

Oh, for the love of—

She collides with the hiker who had just bent down to pick it up. He lets out a startled shout as he topples backward, landing in the dirt. Valkyrie stands over him, the tumbler clutched in her jaws like a prize.

Great. I’m about to get sued, aren’t I?

“Oh my god!” I exclaim as I rush toward them. “I am so sorry!”

The hiker props himself up on his elbows. Tousled dark hair frames a chiseled jawline, and his sharp red-rimmed blue eyes sparkle with mirth despite his undignified position. Of course. Of course, he has to be stupidly good-looking on top of it. Like a romance novel cover just came to life, and now he’s sprawled out on a hiking trail with my dog looming over him like an overenthusiastic dragon guarding its hoard.

“No harm done.” His deep voice carries a hint of a chuckle. “Though, I think your dog just tackled me for my tumbler.”

I groan, trying to rein in my mortification. “She has a thing for shiny objects.” I grab Valkyrie’s leash and give it a tug. “Drop it.”

She obeys reluctantly, her tail nub wagging as she relinquishes the tumbler. The hiker sits up and dusts his hiking pants off.

“Well, she’s got good taste.” He chuckles, flashing me a grin that makes my heart trip over itself like an idiot. “I’m Theo, by the way.”

Of course, he has a nice name. Theo.

“Selene,” I reply, keeping my voice as smooth and unaffected as possible. Not that my pulse gets the memo. “And this troublemaker is Valkyrie. I’m really sorry about that. She’s… a work in progress.”

Theo chuckles, his deep, velvety voice forcing my stomach to do an unfamiliar little flip. He stands, brushing off his jeans. I get a better look at him—tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders, and a muscular build that suggests he knows his way around physical labor. His dark hair falls in artful waves across his forehead, just long enough to be tempting enough to pull. For purely scientific reasons, of course. Nothing else.

His easygoing smile doesn’t hide the confidence oozing in his posture—he’s a man who knows exactly who he is and is perfectly comfortable in his skin.

And those eyes—embers burning at the edges of an ice-cold flame.

“Aren’t we all a work in progress?” He asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The expression wreaks havoc on my already compromised sense of self-control. “This isn’t even the worst thing to happen today, so don’t even worry about it.”

I let out a nervous laugh, easing the tension slightly. “Well, I promise she’s harmless. Just… overly enthusiastic.”

His gaze lingers on Valkyrie. “I can see that.” Then, just as smoothly, he flicks his gaze back to me, eyes steady, like he is trying to figure me out.

“You’re the woman the town has been talking about. You bought the old house on Brier Rose?”

I arch a brow, lips curving in amusement. “The town? Or are you talking about the local busybody Aubrey?”

“They’re one and the same. If you want news to spread in Shadow Grove, tell her and everyone will know about it by the end of the day.”

Exhaling a laugh, I shake my head. “That’s us–I mean me. I bought the house, Valkyrie failed at the one job she was supposed to do so she got fired. So I’m the only one with a job at the end of the day, she’s just a freeloader.”

His lips part like he’s about to ask what she did to get “fired” but instead he just grins, a full, crooked grin that makes his already devastatingly attractive face even more infuriating.

Oh, no. He’s got the good type of smile—the dangerous kind. One that makes you forget why swearing off men was ever a thing.

Theo laughs and holds his hand out to her palm up in a silent offer of friendship. Valkyrie hesitates all of two seconds before shoving her snout into his hand, completely betraying me.

He whispers, “That’s okay girl, if you ever need any treats just stop by the cafe and tell them Theo sent you. They’ll give you a peanut butter cookie for being such a good girl.”

The way he talks to her—low and warm, voice just a little rough around the edges—has my traitorous heart skipping a beat.

Men are not in the plan.

Men are not in the plan.

Men are—

Then looking at me he says, “Maybe I’ll run into you two again—preferably when she’s not gunning for my tumbler.” His lips twitch, before he tilts his head slightly, weighing a decision. “Unless you’re going my way and want some company?”

My brain stutters for a second. The practical side of me knows I have deadlines, a to-do list a mile long, and an entire life to settle into. But the other part—the part that just spent the last five minutes getting absolutely steamrolled by this man’s presence—wants to say yes.

Instead, I smile, hoping my face isn’t betraying just how flustered I am. “We’re headed home. Besides, it’s a small town, we will run into each other again.”

With that, he lifts two fingers in a casual, almost lazy wave before he turns and continues down the trail, moving with an unhurried confidence that suggests he’s entirely comfortable being watched.

And I am watching.

I am watching way too hard.

Beside me, Valkyrie huffs, nudging my leg like she’s in on some secret I’m not.

I have a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing when she tackled Theo.

As I turn back toward home, cheeks still warm, pulse a little too fast, I can’t help but smile.

Shadow Grove is already proving to be full of surprises.

2

Theo

What the hell just happened?

I turn around to watch Selene disappear down the trail, Valkyrie trotting beside her. I’m left standing here feeling a little dazed.

Today is officially the weirdest day of my life. One second, I’m hiking to clear my head after my uncle’s funeral, angry at how picturesque the day is, and the next, I am flat on my back in the dirt, courtesy of a Doberman who has a thing for shiny objects. Then there’s her owner—Selene. She’s a woman you don’t just meet on a random hiking trail. The type of woman who looks like she should be the mystery in a noir film, all golden hair and the bluest, sharpest, knowing eyes.

I rub the back of my neck, exhaling sharply. Did I cross into another dimension, or am I still reeling from the emotional backlash of the week?

For the first time in a while, things don’t seem quite as heavy. Maybe it’s the fresh air or the strange whirlwind that knocked me off my feet.

I squint up at the impossibly blue sky. Its perfect postcard-worthy hue taunts me. It shouldn’t look like this today. I try to ignore the chirping of the birds in the trees. Oblivious little things, carrying on with their lives like the world hasn’t changed. The day you lay a loved one to rest is supposed to be a mournful affair, isn’t it? Gray skies. Thunder rumbling in the distance. Air thick with the weight of loss.

But no.

Today looks like it belongs on the cover of a travel magazine, with taglines about ‘Escaping to the Great Outdoors’ or ‘The Healing Power of Nature.’ The bright sun filters through the canopy of leaves, casting playful patterns on the ground around me. The universe is mocking my attempt at grief and reflection. My boots crunch against the dirt as I start walking again, shaking my head, and trying to clear my mind of her. But no matter how many steps I take, my mind circles back to her.

Selene.

There was something about her presence—like she belonged to this world but didn’t trust it enough to settle. The easy smile she flashed before leaving felt like an invitation into a depth I know better than to chase.

And yet, here I am, still thinking about her.

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair.

Focus. Selene isn’t why I came out here.

Things were a little rough for me after my parents died.

Okay, a little rough is an understatement. I was only nine, and an angry orphan who had to move in with my aunt and her new husband. At the time I had only met Aubrey and Gabe a few times, so going from a loving home with active and attentive parents to a new area of town and people I barely knew? Yeah. It didn’t go well.

She isn’t my blood relative, but she is my aunt in the way she grew up best friends with my dad. When she was seventeen she married my dad’s twin, George, but he died before I was born. A few years later she met Gabe, her total opposite, they just… worked.

I, on the other hand, did not work. I acted out. Got in fights. Talked back to my teachers. Picked every hill to die on, just because I could.

One day Gabe was called to the school. I don’t remember what I did—probably something stupid—but I remember what happened after.

Without saying a word, he walked me out of the school, marched me out to his old beat-up truck, opened the door, and gave me one look. Just one. The kind that said get in without needing to say a word. Then, he turned on some classic country—old-school Johnny Cash—and we drove.

We drove straight out to this trail.

He didn’t ask me what happened. Didn’t lecture me. Didn’t scold me. He just parked, grabbed a tumbler from his truck cooler, and started walking.

And I, a kid who was still testing every boundary I could find, had no choice but to follow.

It was the first time he brought me here, and it quickly became one of my favorite spots. This is where I come to think, to get away from it all, and to just be. One of the great things about living in a place like Shadow Grove, so close to nature, is that no matter how many times I walk this trail, there is always a surprise waiting. New wildlife, new plants, new trees, new people.

Not that I want to see or talk to anyone right now, I just want it to be me, nature, and Umbra.

I wince as I cross a particularly rough patch of the trail. Not because I was steamrolled by the Doberman earlier—though my ribs are gonna feel that later—but because the weight of today is creeping back in. Uncle Gabe’s funeral was this morning, and I’d been hoping the fresh air would help me decompress. Turns out, grief doesn’t care about fresh air. It just follows you. Clings to your skin like humidity in July.

I pause to take a sip from my tumbler, the cool liquid a welcome relief as it slides down my throat. Even away from the hustle and bustle of town, I can’t seem to quiet the thoughts spiraling around in my head. Grief is funny that way—it’ll find you no matter how fast you run.

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