His Forgotten Luna, My Northern Alpha

Kyle held out the white porcelain bowl, his knuckles tight around the rim.

“Alia,” he said gently. “You’ve looked pale lately. The healer brewed this moon-herb tonic for you. Drink it and get some real sleep tonight.”

I looked at him.

This man had once been my fated mate. In our last life, he held me through nightmares, took a silver blade for me, and told every Alpha at the Council summit that Alia Blackthorn was his only Luna.

Now ash from the witch’s room still clung to his cuff. He thought I couldn’t smell the bitter witchroot beneath the herbs.

I thought I would rage. I thought I would throw the bowl in his face and force him to admit he had chosen my half sister over me.

But standing there in the quiet Blackthorn family wing of the Ravenwood packhouse, I was terrifyingly calm.

Maybe love doesn’t always break with noise. Sometimes it just clears your head and shows you your heart doesn’t belong to a man who weighs it like a bargaining chip.

“Just a tonic?” I asked.

Guilt flickered through Kyle’s eyes, then disappeared beneath that familiar softness. “Of course. How could I ever hurt you?”

I smiled and took the bowl.

The moonstone ring on my finger was hollow, the only thing my mother left me. As a child, I used it to hide clotting powder during training. Tonight, it would hold the potion Kyle meant to use against me.

The moment the rim touched my lips, I tilted my wrist. The liquid ran down between my fingers and slipped into the ring’s tiny hidden groove. I held the last mouthful beneath my tongue, then bent my head and spat it into my handkerchief.

From Kyle’s angle, it looked as if I had swallowed every drop.

Relief moved across his face before he could hide it. Then he reached for me, as if afraid the potion would act too fast.

I pressed a hand to my temple and swayed on cue.

“Headache?” He panicked at once. “I’ll call the healer.”

“No need.” I looked up at him and let my gaze turn unfamiliar by degrees. “Who are you?”

Kyle froze.

For one second, shock filled his eyes. Then something worse rose behind it, a flash of relief he couldn’t quite hide.

I saw it clearly.

He thought I had forgotten him.

Good. I would make him believe he had won.

Kyle slowly released my hand. His voice dropped lower than before, half testing me, half trying to convince himself. “I’m Kyle Ravenwood, Alpha of Ravenwood Pack.”

“Oh.” I nodded faintly. “And what are you doing in the Blackthorn wing?”

His throat bobbed. “I came to speak with your father. I’m going to announce Lila Vale as my contracted Luna.”

I didn’t let the pain show. I only lifted the corner of my mouth. “Congratulations, Alpha Ravenwood. You’re finally getting the woman you want.”

As soon as I said it, Lila Vale came running from the end of the hallway.

She was my father’s daughter with a low-ranking Omega. Her mother had entered the Blackthorn household with soft tears and pushed my mother out one wound at a time. Since we were children, Lila had loved stealing what was mine.

Now she had taken my fated mate too.

Lila hooked both hands around Kyle’s arm. Her eyes reddened instantly. “Alia, aren’t you the one who hates women who ruin other people’s relationships? Kyle and I are about to announce our mate contract in front of the pack. Why were you meeting him alone?”

Kyle’s face darkened. “Lila, don’t talk like that. Nothing happened between Alia and me.”

He defended me without thinking. Lila’s tears fell even harder.

“I know she looks down on where I come from. I know she thinks I should give her everything because I’m the daughter no one wanted. But not Kyle. I love him more than anything.”

Kyle went quiet for a moment, then raised his hand and wiped away her tears. “Don’t cry. I stopped her to ask about a pack file. This has nothing to do with her. I’ll be more careful from now on and won’t let you misunderstand again.”

Lila leaned into his arms. “You promised you’d take me to the full-moon street fair tonight.”

“I will.” Kyle’s voice softened. “I’ll take you.”

When they walked away together, Kyle looked back at me once, worried and unsettled, as if afraid I would be hurt and grateful I no longer had the right to be.

I stood where I was, slowly closing my fingers around the moonstone ring still wet with the potion.

So it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to be tender.

He had simply started giving that tenderness to someone else.

In my last life, I believed there was no room between us for a third person. Now I understood. Sometimes a man calls you his only one because he hasn’t met another woman he wants to save more.

Since he wanted to act, I would play along.

Consider it my final gift to the mate bond we had carried across two lives.