MasukMira's POV
“No,” he said, anger flashing in his eyes as if the mere mention of the name made his skin crawl. “I'm Alder. His twin brother.”
Twin brother?
Kade had a twin?
How is this possible?
How come no one mentioned it in the three months that I spent in the BlueMoon pack? Not even kade himself.
Right. He never even mentioned that he had a fiancée, so how would he talk about his brother?
I stared at him intensely. Leather jacket with blood stains at the collar. Inner dark singlet, chest covered in cobra tattoos with their tongues stuck out, sending chills down my spine. Leather pants with a cobra head belt and he reeked of gasoline, danger. Everything about him wasn't proper like Kade.
The waitress came to take our orders. Alder spoke to her but I did not even hear what they were saying; I couldn't concentrate. Not when I'm seeing the man that looked exactly like the one who broke me.
“Alright sir,” she said and walked away.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Are you done staring, Mira Valentini.”
I blinked severally, forcing myself to take my eyes off him. “Sorry— about—that,” I stammered. “You said you are Kade's twin brother?”
“Yes, I am.” He sat up, his stormy gray eyes stared deep into my soul. “I know you know my brother. I know he was your fated mate and that you were together for a while but that doesn't matter. I want to marry you, Mira.”
My mouth fell open. How did he know everything? Yet, I thought I had run away from him, but he was always there.
“Marry me?” I repeated, couldn't wrap my head around it all. “Why are you hell-bent on marrying me? Even after two years, you don't even care that I was with your brother, do you?”
“But why did you leave then?” His voice was laced with hurt. “You did not even give us the chance to meet before you left—even if it was just once.”
“I was young then, naive and I just wanted my father to stop controlling my life. So, I ran… not because of you exactly. But because of the man who cared about nothing more other than using me as a bargaining chip.”
He nodded, pressing his lips together. “That was understandable. But why the sudden change of mind now? I was actually surprised when your father called me back to inform me that you are now interested in getting married to me.”
“Nothing.” I couldn't tell him I had intended to marry him to forget his brother and annoy my sister, right? “I just thought maybe we are meant to be together after all, seeing how you are still interested in me after everything.”
He scoffed, clearly didn't believe my claims. “Why do I feel like you are doing this to get over my brother?”
How did he always know everything?
My breath caught in my throat and I let out a guttural cough. He quickly handed me a bottle of water, his eyes laced with deep concern; just the same way Kade used to look anytime I was hurt.
My fingers tightened around the bottle—an effort to push Kade out of my mind— as I gulped down the water and I felt better.
I wanted to hate Kade. After how he treated me, I wanted to hate him… but I couldn't. I could still feel him everywhere inside me.
“Why would you say that?” I asked like he wasn't right. “Your brother is my past and he remains there.”
“Of course, he does. I don't care what happened between both of you but you are MINE now.” The MINE was almost a growl—possessive and protective; unlike that bastard that was too ashamed to show me off.
His jaw tightened. “I will make sure to prove to him how much of a fool he is for letting you go.” He sounded like he hated his brother.
“Your brother…. Why did you hate him?” The words slipped past my lips before I could stop myself.
Alder threw his head to the side, his eyes darkened, pain flashed in them. “He ruined my life. He took everything that has ever belonged to me.” His voice was tight and I knew he didn't want to say more.
At that moment, I saw myself in him. The same way Alina took everything away from me.
I extended my hand. “Let's get married, Alder Thornhart. Let's prove to the one that hurt us that he made a big mistake.”
He smirked and shook my hand. “Actually I changed my name. The moment I left BlueMoon Pack six years ago, I renounced my place as a Thornhart. I have created a new legacy for myself. I'm a Deluca.”
Just how bad could the relationship with his family be that prompted a change of name?
Whatever it was, I love the fact that we share a common enemy. “Alright Alder Deluca.” I quickly withdrew from his touch because it kept sending jolts down my spine.
“Your orders are ready,” the waitress announced, dropping covered trays on the table. A bottle of wine and two glasses.
I smiled at the waitress. “Thank you.”
Alder opened the tray and there were a lot of delicious meals.
My eyes widened. “Lamb sauce?!” How did he know that was my favourite?
As if he could hear my thoughts again, he smirked. “I know everything about you, Mira. I might be a stranger to you. But to me, you were never.”
I’m sure that bastard Kade never even knew my favourite food.
Now, I regret not meeting Alder once before I ran off. Maybe I would have changed my mind.
Our gaze was fixed for a long moment, my cheeks burning.
“Let's eat,” I finally said and looked away.
I stared at the meal again and I intend to eat a lot since I did not eat much earlier because of Elara and Alina. But staring at the meals made my stomach knitted painfully and just like earlier a wave of nausea crashed down on me.
I sprang up to my feet. “I would like to use the restroom.”
“Alright.” He stood.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanted to come with you.”
Despite the fact that I felt sick, I burst into laughter that echoed through the restaurant, attracting the attention of other customers and I had to bow slightly to apologise.
“I'm not a kid that needs an escort, Alder. I will be fine.” He is so protective—an exact opposite of Kade.
He hesitated, but finally agreed. “Okay.”
As I took a step past him, my eyes went blurry, my head throbbed with pains, my legs buckled and the last thing I heard before darkness consumed me was Alder's desperate and worried calls.
“Mira!”
The city was quiet, deceptively so. Mira moved through the streets at first light, boots tapping lightly on stone streets slick with dew. The smoke of past battles had long since cleared, leaving only faint traces of memory. Still, every shadow, every distant movement, every sound carried potential. The city had learned to breathe again, but Mira had learned that peace was never given. It was earned. It was protected. And it demanded constant vigilance.Alder walked at her side, silent as ever. His eyes scanned every alley, every rooftop, every corner where danger could hide. The twins pulsed within her—Kade with alert intensity, Alder with measured calm. Together, they reminded her that protection was not only about strength but awareness. Vigilance was a state of mind, an energy that flowed as much through thought as it did through movement.They passed through markets where merchants reopened their stalls. The hum of daily life was tentative, cautious, but insistent. Children ran p
The city’s dawn came in shades of gray and gold, soft light spilling over rooftops still scarred but steadfast. Mira stood at the highest balcony, watching the streets awaken. The remnants of fire, smoke, and battle lingered faintly in the air, but the rhythm of life persisted beneath it all. People moved carefully but with determination, carrying forward the work that would define the city not by what had been destroyed, but by what survived.Alder appeared silently at her side, his presence steady, unassuming, yet impossible to ignore. The twins pulsed inside her—Kade with fierce protective energy, Alder with calm, strategic clarity. Together, they reminded her that endurance was not only a measure of strength, but of balance. Power without patience faltered, fury without control burned itself out. To endure was to wield both with precision.Mira’s gaze drifted over the streets below. Children darted between partially rebuilt buildings, their laughter cautious but triumphant. Worker
The city slept under a blanket of dusk, but Mira did not. She walked along the upper walkways of the mansion, the wind tugging gently at her hair, carrying the faint scent of smoke that no longer threatened but lingered like memory. The streets below were calm. Lanterns cast a soft glow on cobblestone streets, reflecting faintly in puddles left by a sudden afternoon rain. There was a rhythm to the calm, one that whispered a subtle truth: survival was not loud, it was enduring.Alder followed without sound, his presence steady and grounding. The twins pulsed within her—a balance of Kade’s intensity and Alder’s control. Together they reminded her that leadership was not about dominance, but persistence, patience, and attention to the smallest detail. The city’s heartbeat could be felt in those details.Mira stopped at the edge of the balcony and observed the district below. Families emerged from homes, cautious but curious, rebuilding their routines. Children played, their laughter tent
Dawn arrived without urgency. It was slow, deliberate, filtering through the city in soft amber light. The streets lay quiet, not empty, but holding a measured rhythm. The buildings bore marks of repair and memory. Windows glinted where they had been replaced. Walls once scorched now showed fresh stone or carefully patched wood. Life moved quietly forward. Mira stood at the balcony of the mansion, shoulders steady, gaze sweeping across the city she had fought to preserve. The fire had come and gone, but the echoes of what it had demanded remained.Alder joined her silently, the bond between them pulsing faintly in the air. Not commanding. Not needing to speak. Just presence. It was enough. Kade and Alder moved within her, steadying, strengthening. Their combined energy reminded her that resilience was not passive. It was active, persistent, quiet. It did not scream for recognition. It simply endured.Below, workers moved along streets, repairing, rebuilding, reconstructing. Children r
The morning arrived heavy and deliberate. It did not rush. It did not announce itself with sound or fanfare. It simply came, spilling pale light across rooftops that had been repaired, streets that bore the marks of recovery, and the few remnants of fire-stained stone that refused to disappear. Mira stood at the balcony, shoulders squared, the weight of the city pressing gently against her chest. She did not flinch. She did not shift. The world had changed, and she had changed with it. What had once demanded fire now required endurance.Alder joined her silently, as he always did. His presence was not loud, but it was enough. It anchored her without restraint, a counterbalance to the tremor of exhaustion she felt beneath the surface. Together, they surveyed the city, observing not as rulers but as witnesses to the life that persisted despite everything.They did not speak immediately. Words were unnecessary. The city communicated in subtleties—the hum of workers returning to tasks, th
Morning came slower than usual.Clouds hung low over the city. Light filtered through them without urgency. The streets answered in kind. No rush. No alarm. Just movement shaped by habit.Mira walked early. She chose the outer roads where rebuilding showed its raw edges. Stone still chipped. Wood still fresh. Paint uneven. She wanted to see what remained unfinished. What still asked for care.People noticed her but did not stop. That was the balance she had hoped for. Awareness without dependence.She paused near a half restored hall. Workers lifted beams with steady rhythm. Sweat darkened their shirts. No one complained. No one waited for instruction. They worked because the work mattered.Mira felt something tighten then ease in her chest.This was the proof.Fire had not erased them.Loss had not hollowed them.They remained.She moved on.Alder watched from a distance. Not guarding. Witnessing. He had learned that she needed space to measure the city with her own senses. He truste







