INICIAR SESIÓN
The rain hasn’t stopped for hours.
It drums against my hood, slides down my face, seeps through the old cloak clinging to my body. My boots sink into the mud with every step, but I keep walking because stopping means thinking, and thinking hurts more than the cold.
Two years.
Two years since I walked away from Bloodstone territory with nothing but a shattered bond and two heartbeats that weren’t my own.
Now I’m back.
A flash of lightning tears across the sky, lighting up the border gates of Bloodstone Pack. Iron, stone, and the heavy scent of dominance in the air. Even from here, I can smell him, that sharp mix of smoke and pine that used to make my heart race.
Delph.
The name alone sends something through me, a memory that tightens my chest. My wolf, Mira, stirs uneasily inside me, whining. He’ll know we’re here.
“I know,” I whisper. My voice cracks. “We don’t have a choice.”
The twins shift in my arms, cocooned against my chest. Their tiny breaths fog against my damp clothes. I pull them closer, tucking them beneath the cloak. Their warmth keeps me steady.
“This is for them,” I murmur, as if the wind might carry the words to the Moon Goddess herself.
I didn’t come back to beg or to love him again. I came because running isn’t living. Because the world outside these borders is cruel to omegas and even crueler to wolves without a pack.
And maybe, deep down, because part of me wants him to see what he threw away.
The guards at the border move when they see me. They recognize the scent before their eyes do. One of them stumbles forward, disbelief written all over his face.
“Luna Afnan?”
The title hits like a blade. Once, that word used to mean everything. Now it’s just a ghost.
“I’m not your Luna,” I say quietly. “Not anymore. Tell your Alpha that I seek entrance.”
They exchange glances. I can hear the whisper of their minds linking with him, their Alpha. My heart starts to pound, each beat syncing with the rain.
He’ll know in seconds. He’ll scent me before they finish speaking.
And he’ll come.
I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until I hear it, that low, commanding growl that shakes the ground under my feet. The kind of sound only one wolf in this world can make.
Then he’s there.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in black that clings to him like sin itself. Even in the storm, he’s composed, regal, terrifying. The years haven’t softened him; if anything, they’ve made him sharper, colder.
Delph. Alpha of Bloodstone. My former mate.
His eyes find me through the rain steel gray, piercing, unreadable.
And for the briefest second, something flickers there. Shock. Disbelief. Maybe even pain.
Then it’s gone.
“Afnan.” My name rolls off his tongue like a curse and a prayer combined. “You dare to return?”
I lift my chin. The old me would’ve trembled. The woman standing here doesn’t.
“I’m not here for your forgiveness, Alpha,” I say softly. “I came because some ghosts can’t stay buried forever.”
His nostrils flare. His wolf is close to the surface. I can feel it, raw and dangerous. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
“Maybe,” I whisper, “but I did.”
His gaze drops suddenly to the small bundle in my arms. The twins stir, one tiny hand poking out from the cloak. Delph freezes. The air thickens.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
Then his voice, low and cold: “What are you hiding?”
I step back, my wolf bristling. “Nothing that concerns you.”
His growl deepens, the rain hissing against the tension in the air. “Everything that concerns you, concerns me.”
I almost laughed at that. “Since when?”
Lightning flashes again, illuminating his face the fury, the confusion, the faint hint of something he doesn’t want to feel. His jaw tightens, and I see it, the moment realization starts to dawn. The scent of the twins, faint but familiar, cuts through the rain.
His eyes widened.
His control slips for a split second.
And in that heartbeat, I know he knows.
“You will come with me,” he orders finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Now.”
The guards hesitate, watching. My pulse hammers, but I don’t move.
I’ve faced rogues, hunger, and fear. I can face him.
“If I come with you,” I say, my voice quiet but firm, “it’ll be on my terms, Delph. Not yours.”
He takes a slow step forward, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. His scent wraps around me, intoxicating and dangerous.
“You forget who you’re speaking to,” he murmurs.
I meet his eyes. “No. I remember exactly who I’m speaking to. The Alpha who rejected his mate for power.”
The silence after that could drown the thunder. His wolf roars beneath his skin, I can feel it in the air, wild and desperate.
Then, softly, almost brokenly, he says, “You should’ve stayed gone.”
Maybe I should have. But as I look down at the twins one with my eyes, one with his I know I couldn’t have.
Because ghosts don’t stay buried.
And some secrets… aren’t meant to be kept forever.
Delph's POVThe smell of smoke never really leaves you, it clings to the soul longer than it does the skin.The courtyard still smolders. Charred beams lie like bones across the stones, embers flickering in the wind. The wounded are gathered near the well, healers working with shaking hands and hollow eyes. Wolves move slower now,broken, uncertain, glancing at me as I pass, as though my presence alone might stitch the ruins back together.I give orders quietly, one after another. “Stabilize the northern line.” “Send food to the families.” “Burn what’s tainted, bury the rest.”My voice sounds like someone else’s. I’ve said these words before, in other wars, but this time every command feels like a lie.Because the nursery is empty.The cradle carved from whitewood, the one I could never bring myself to destroy even after rejecting her lies overturned. The air still carries her scent. Faint herbs. Milk. And underneath it, something sharper, fear, and the wild tang of determination.She
Afnan's POVDawn crept softly over the forest, pale and cold, like it was afraid to wake the dead.Mist clung to my hair, heavy and damp, as I trudged through the undergrowth. The twins slept against my chest, wrapped in a rough sling I’d made from an old cloak, their tiny breaths warming my skin. Every step burned through my legs, every heartbeat echoed with exhaustion, but stopping wasn’t an option. The forest didn’t forgive stillness.Ancient roots rose like serpents from the ground, moss-draped and silent witnesses to my flight. The air smelled of pine, wet earth, and danger an old, restless magic that didn’t belong to any pack. Somewhere in the distance, something moved slowly, deliberately, and alive.I’d been walking north since the night I ran. Following the streams, sleeping in hollows, surviving on berries and the crust of bread I’d stolen before th
Delph's POV Smoke and silence, that’s all the aftermath of power ever leaves behind.The air still trembles with heat. Smoke curls above the courtyard like ghosts unwilling to leave, carrying with it the stench of burnt wood and blood. Wolves move among the wounded, their paws dark with ash. The cries of the injured blend with the crackle of dying flames.I stand on the stone steps, halfway between command and collapse. My body wants to tremble, to grieve, but the Alpha in me refuses. The weight of a pack’s survival sits heavy on my shoulders.Corin’s boots scrape against the ground as he approaches, his once-golden fur matted with soot. “Half our warriors are down,” he reports hoarsely. “The northern barracks are gone. And the Council elders escaped through the tunnels before the blast.”His words echo in the hollow that used to be my chest. The elders, always slipping away when their schemes burn too bright.“Get the healers to the courtyard,” I murmur, though my voice sounds far a
(Afnan’s POV)Smoke and dust chase me down the corridor.The twins cling to me, one tiny hand tangled in my cloak, the other pressed against my neck. Their warmth keeps me from thinking about the noise outside the clash of metal, the howls, the roars that sound far too close.The cellar door slams behind us.I fumble with the key Delph gave me and jam it into the lock. It turns once, twice, until the mechanism clicks. The sound feels final.The tunnel yawns open before me, narrow and cold. Moist air brushes my face, carrying the faint smell of old stone and rust. I whisper a prayer to the Moon Goddess, not for strength just for silence.I descend the stairs, step by careful step, keeping my balance despite the weight in my arms. A lantern hangs on the wall; its flame sputters to life when I touch it. The light throws shadows across carvings older than the pack itself, wolves chasing the moon, eyes made of worn silver.Every story I ever heard about these tunnels said they were haunted
(Delph’s POV)The first horn shakes the rafters.Then another.And another.By the time I reach the courtyard, the air is thick with the scent of iron and rain. Wolves shift in the open space, ranks breaking apart faster than orders can travel. Some raise their heads to me. Others turn toward the elders’ banners snapping above the gate.It’s already begun.“Hold the south wall!” I shout. The sound rips through the confusion. “No one crosses the line without my order!”Corin appears at my side, breathing hard. “They came through the northern arch! Council enforcers and half the guard with them.”Half.That’s enough to drown the rest if they get momentum.“Signal the archers,” I bark. “Do not kill unless they attack first.”He hesitates. “They’re attacking already.”A clash of steel answers him.The courtyard erupts. Wolves collide mid-shift, fur and fists and rage blurring into one sound. The elders’ guards push forward in a wedge, silver spears gleaming. My own fighters close ranks to
(Afnan’s POV)The morning arrives too.No birds, no distant training shouts, not even the steady rhythm of the pack’s heartbeat that usually hums beneath these walls. Just silence, heavy and wrong.When I open the curtains, the courtyard below is crawling with guards.More than yesterday.They stand in pairs, watching opposite directions, watching for something or against something, I can’t tell.The twins stir at the noise of clinking armor. I hush them back to sleep and wrap my cloak tighter. The air feels colder even though sunlight spills across the floor.At first I think I’m imagining it, the faint metallic tang in the air, the weight of eyes on my back. But when I step into the corridor, two warriors shift instantly, blocking the stairway.“Orders from the Alpha,” one says. “No one leaves the east wing.”I blink. “Even me?”His gaze flickers toward the children behind me. “Especially you, Luna.”The title again. It cuts differently this time not mockery, not respect, but confus







