4. The Balancing Act

Motherhood, leadership, and revenge—three roles I never imagined juggling. Each demands something I’m not sure I have, but I can’t afford to fail. Not again.

---

The sound of stifled giggles and hurried footsteps echoes through the grand hallway, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance toward the noise, already guessing who’s behind it.

A loud crash follows, and my suspicion is confirmed.

“Zane, don’t push her!” one voice scolds.

“I didn’t! She tripped!” comes the defensive reply.

“Did not!” shrieks a smaller, more indignant voice.

I stride toward the commotion and find the triplets in the middle of what looks like a battlefield. A shattered vase lies in pieces on the floor, water pooling around the shards.

The boys — Zane and Eli — stand on either side of their sister, Lily, who’s sitting on the ground, her silver curls bouncing as she glares at her brothers.

“What’s going on here?” I ask, folding my arms.

Three guilty faces turn toward me.

“It was Zane!” Eli blurts out.

“Was not!” Zane retorts. “Lily was running!”

“I was not running!” Lily snaps, crossing her arms in a perfect imitation of her grandmother.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, fighting a smile. Their antics remind me of simpler days—days when my only concern was surviving Cain’s cold indifference.

“Well?” I say, looking at each of them in turn. “Who’s going to clean this up?”

Three pairs of eyes widen. “Not me!” they chorus in unison.

I crouch to Lily’s level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, her pout softening.

“Good,” I say, straightening. “Now, all three of you are going to help clean this up. No excuses.”

The boys groan, and Lily looks as if she’s about to argue, but a sharp look from me silences them.

As I watch them scramble to pick up the larger pieces of the vase, I can’t help but feel a pang of affection. The triplets may be a handful, but they’re my handful now.

---

Later, as I watch the children play in the garden under the nanny’s supervision, my mind drifts to darker matters.

Cain.

In my past life, I ignored the whispers of his illicit dealings, too afraid to confront him. But now, I have no such fear. I’ve sent trusted spies to gather evidence against him. Whatever he’s hiding, I’ll uncover it.

Revenge isn’t just a desire; it’s a promise.

Still, I can’t let my pursuit of justice consume me entirely. Damon is watching me closely.

---

At dinner that evening, his eyes linger on me, filled with questions he doesn’t voice. His touch brushes my hand, but I pull away instinctively, pretending not to notice the flicker of hurt in his expression.

Damon isn’t Cain. I remind myself of that constantly, but it doesn’t make trusting him any easier.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he says, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

“I’m tired,” I reply, focusing on my plate.

“Tired?” he repeats, his tone questioning. “Or something else?”

I glance up at him, meeting his piercing gray eyes. There’s suspicion there now, and I know my distance hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“I’m fine, Damon,” I say, forcing a smile. “Really.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t press further.

---

Later that night, I sit alone in the study, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace.

“Nora?”

The Grand Luna’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see her standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her face.

“May I join you?” she asks.

“Of course.”

She takes a seat across from me, her movements graceful despite her years. For a moment, she studies me in silence, and I feel as though she can see through every wall I’ve built.

“You’ve been distant lately,” she says finally.

I open my mouth to deny it, but she holds up a hand. “I’m not here to pry. I only want to help.”

Her sincerity catches me off guard. In my past life, I never had a mother to turn to for advice. Now, this woman—this stranger—offers me something I never thought I’d experience: maternal warmth.

“You carry a heavy burden,” she continues. “As a Luna, as a mother. But you must learn to balance these roles. Neglect one, and the other will suffer.”

Her words strike a chord. She doesn’t know the true weight I carry, but she’s right. I can’t let my quest for revenge overshadow my responsibilities.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

She reaches across the table, her hand warm as it covers mine. “You’re not alone, Nora. Remember that.”

I nod, unable to speak. For the first time in years—perhaps ever—I feel like someone genuinely cares for me.

---

The next morning, as the triplets chase each other through the garden, a messenger arrives with a sealed letter. I take it quickly, my heart pounding.

I don’t need to open it to know it’s from one of my spies.

“Nora?” Damon’s voice startles me. I turn to see him standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as they flick to the letter in my hand.

“What’s that?” he asks, his tone casual but edged with suspicion.

“Nothing important,” I say, slipping the letter into the folds of my dress.

His jaw tightens. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I reply, my voice firm. “Just some boring pack business.”

His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before he nods, though I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

---

Once I’m alone, I lock the door to my room and tear open the envelope. The letter is brief but chilling.

Cain has arranged a meeting with the Alpha of a rogue pack. It’s happening tonight.

My blood runs cold. Cain’s betrayal runs deeper than I imagined.

I pace the room, my mind racing. If Cain is conspiring with rogues, he’s a threat to the entire pack. I can’t ignore this. He could be planning something treasonous.

But just as I begin to plan my next move, a knock sounds at the door.

“Mama?”

It’s Lily.

I open the door to find her standing there, clutching a stuffed wolf to her chest.

“Can we play?” she asks, her wide eyes hopeful.

My resolve wavers. I glance at the letter still clutched in my hand, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.

Revenge or motherhood.

Duty or love.

The choice shouldn’t be this hard.