Chapter 6

The Vow (Vera's POV)

I jolted awake, a scream trapped in my throat. My chest heaved, drenched in sweat, the feel of silver chains searing my wrists. I could still hear their laughter—Lana’s high, cruel cackle, Damon’s guttural snarl echoing through the rogue lair. Fire consumed the whole room while I burnt. 

The suffocating scent of smoke clung to my lungs even as I gasped, my body trembling. But when I opened my eyes, the nightmare slipped away, chased by warm sunlight streaming across my room.

I wasn’t in the lair. I wasn’t shackled or bleeding.

I was home.

Safe. Alive.

Reborn.

The morning light spilled across my covers like a blessing, and my wolf stirred inside me, still restless but soothed by the familiar scent of the pack stronghold—pinewood, cinnamon, and the faint musk of wolves going about their morning. 

I sat up slowly, heart thudding like a war drum. This wasn’t a dream. I had been granted a second chance—an unthinkable gift from the moon goddess herself. My past was nothing. My future? Unwritten. This time, I wouldn’t let it burn.

A giddy rush overtook me as I threw off the covers, my bare feet hitting the hardwood floor with a soft thud. My wolf surged toward the scent of my family, the warmth I had ached for during the final years of my past life. 

I bolted down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time, hair flying behind me.

The moment I stepped into the dining room, my breath caught in my throat.

There they were.

Dad stood at the counter, peeling a boiled egg for Mom, his movements tender. He smiled at her in that quiet way he always had—like she was a distant star he couldn’t believe had chosen him. 

She didn’t look up, focused on the glossy pages of a design magazine, but her foot tapped absently against his ankle. Their bond, even when cold, still tangible. 

At the head of the table sat Grandpa Gideon, alpha aura strong but comforting, like the sun filtering through storm clouds. He grunted at the newspaper in his hands, brows furrowed. “Gabriel Black’s pressuring another border pack to bend the knee,” he muttered, shaking the paper. “Nightmoor expands again.”

Dad sighed, half-amused, half-worried. “He looks unshakable now, but Nightmoor’s no paradise. That pack eats its own. Sooner or later, someone will turn on him.”

My wolf tensed instinctively at Gabriel’s name. Even now, his icy blue eyes flashed across my mind—eyes that softened only when he was around me. 

His whisper, “I’ll never leave you alone again” in my past life still on my mind. A promise from a man whose hands were stained with power and blood. 

I clenched my jaw, pushing his image away.

Not today.

Today was my birthday.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, sweetheart,” Dad said, turning with a grin. “Your gift’s in your room. Grandpa picked it out.”

Grandpa’s gaze warmed as he folded the paper. “Vera, my pup,” he said, voice thick with emotion. His affection wrapped around me like a shield, and my eyes stung.

Only Mom remained distant, her eyes flicking up, cool and unreadable. Her lips tightened.

My stomach twisted. Same old frost.

She’d always been distant—elegant, poised, but cold. My memories of childhood were filled, with Grandpa’s laughter filling the space her presence never quite occupied. 

Even now, when I needed a mother, she was a stranger in my life—present but unreachable.

“I missed you all,” I murmured, the words catching in my throat.

“Eighteen already,” mom said, more to herself than to me. “A grown she-wolf doesn’t need coddling.”

But Grandpa reached across the table, and I went to him. His hand rough but warm as it curled around mine. I’m here now, he mind-linked softly. And I’m not going anywhere, little wolf.

I nodded, barely keeping my tears in check. My wolf whimpered, caught between guilt and hope. In my past life, I had failed them—let Lana slither into our hearts and destroy us from the inside. I wouldn’t let that happen again.

I retreated to my room, the morning light filtering through the curtains, my wolf’s senses sharp as I checked my phone. The rogue’s video—Lana’s torment in the alley—sat in my email, a weapon to wield at tonight’s initiation.

My lips curved, my wolf snarling in triumph. Lana thought she could use AI to fake my disgrace, but I’d turned her trap against her. The pack would see her betrayal, her rogue alliances exposed

under the full moon.

She had planned to use it against me—distort the footage, mix it with AI-faked photos to shame me at tonight’s initiation ceremony. She thought she’d already won.

But I’d flipped the script. The unedited version would expose her cruelty. 

But then—Gabriel’s face flickered in my mind again. His gentle touch in the alley, and his cold departure last night had me wanting to figure him out.

Still, I couldn’t forget who he was. What he represented. Nightmoor was a black hole, swallowing everything it touched. I would not risk my family—not even for the mate bond that burned between us.

Yet...

Why had he saved me?

I opened Grandpa’s gift box. Nestled inside was a delicate necklace, a crescent moon intertwined with a five-pointed star, a blue moonstone set at its center. My breath caught.

It pulsed with pack magic.

Ancient.

Familiar.

My wolf growled softly in recognition. This was no ordinary trinket. It was one of the relics Lana and Damon had stolen in my past life, a key to something greater—something I’d failed to protect. But not this time.

I fastened it around my neck, its energy soothing like cool water. My claws twitched. I was ready.

Downstairs, the kitchen was alive with the hum of pack life. Cee stood at the counter, apron dusted in flour, baking her signature cream cookies. She looked up as I entered, smiling gently.

“Big night, little pup,” she said. “The stars are watching.”

“I’ll make them proud,” I whispered.