CHAPTER 12

Elara’s Pov

Morning light spilled into the room, no longer a harsh reminder of a day’s labor, but a warm invitation.

I had woken early, my body feeling lighter than it had in years. 

I had even braved the en-suite washroom, a marvel of heated water and scented soaps that left my skin smelling of mountain lilies. 

Now, I sat on the edge of the bed, hair damp and brushed smooth, wearing a fresh tunic of pale cream. 

I was watching dust motes dance in the sun when a firm, familiar knock sounded against the door.

"Elara? May I come in?"

My heart gave a small, happy skip. "Yes! Please, come in."

The door swung open, and Varick stepped inside. 

He looked as imposing as ever in his dark leathers, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on me. 

Sora followed close behind, her medical kit in hand and a wide, knowing smile on her face.

"Good morning, little wolf," Varick rumbled, his gaze raking over me to ensure I was truly as well as I looked. "You look... rested."

"I am," I said. For the first time, it wasn't a lie told to avoid a lecture.

Sora stepped forward, gesturing for me to stay still as she began her examination.

She checked the seal of the scars on my shoulder and listened to my breathing, her expression growing more delighted by the second. 

Varick stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, watching with the intensity of a hawk.

After a few minutes, Sora tucked her tools away. 

She looked at Varick, then beamed at me.

"Well, Alpha, it seems the North agrees with her," Sora announced. "The internal bruising has faded, and the unconventional mend has fully integrated. I have excellent news, Elara."

I leaned forward, holding my breath.

"You are properly healed," she said. "The restrictions are lifted. By tomorrow, you’ll be able to move as much as you want… run, dance, or explore every inch of this Citadel. You’re no longer a patient."

A surge of pure, unadulterated relief washed over me. 

I looked at Varick, my eyes shimmering. "I can go anywhere?"

Varick stepped closer, the corner of his mouth tilting up. 

"Everywhere," he promised. "The Vanguard is your home now, Elara. It’s time you saw the rest of it."

"Thank you," I whispered, the words feeling too small for the weight of the freedom they carried. "Thank you both."

Sora gave my hand a final, encouraging squeeze before heading toward the door. 

"I'll leave you to it, then. Eat well today, Elara!"

As the door clicked shut, I sat in the silence, letting the reality sink in. 

It had been another full week since that magical night in the garden. 

I had been careful, obeying Sora’s orders to the letter, spending my time cocooned in the safety of this room and watching the mountains through the glass.

But now, the walls felt less like a sanctuary and more like a starting line.

‘A whole week of healing,’ I thought, flexing my fingers. 

There was no sharp pull in my shoulder, no lingering ache. I had spent a week being pampered and protected. 

Now, I could actually walk through the front doors. I could see the pack.

It was a terrifying thought, but for the first time, the excitement outweighed the fear. 

I wasn't just the glitch who survived a cliff anymore. I was a girl who had been given a second chance by the North itself.

"You look like you're plotting an escape," Varick rumbled. 

He was leaning against the bedpost, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he watched the expressions flit across my face.

I laughed, a sound that came easily now. "Not an escape. Just... a walk. A really long walk."

"Then let’s not waste the daylight," he said, reaching out a hand to help me up. "Where would you like to go first? The library, the great balconies, or perhaps the kitchens to see where all that honey comes from?"

I stood, testing my weight. 

My legs felt strong, but a sudden flutter of nerves danced in my stomach. I looked up at Varick, my fingers nervously smoothing my tunic.

"If I go out there..." I started, my voice wavering. "If I move around the Citadel, I’m going to have to meet them, right? The warriors? The families?"

The image of Silver Ridge flashed in my mind, the sneers, the whispers about my defective blood, the way people would step aside not out of respect, but out of disgust.

Varick noticed the flicker of fear. 

He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me like a warm, protective cloak. He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his steady gaze.

"You will," he said firmly. "But you will not meet them as a servant, and you will not meet them as a stranger."

I bit my lip. "Then... how? What will you tell them?"

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, proud and dangerously possessive.

"I am going to introduce you as the soon-to-be Luna of the Vanguard. Once those words leave my mouth, they will not just welcome you; they will honor you. In the North, my word is law, and my heart’s choice is the pack’s priority."

A rush of warmth spread through my chest, far more potent than any tea. 

Luna.

The word felt heavy, like a crown, but with Varick standing there, it didn't feel impossible. 

He wasn't just giving me a place to stay; he was giving me his status, his protection, and his name.

"The soon-to-be Luna," I repeated, the words tasting sweet. I smiled, a genuine beam that finally reached my eyes. "Okay. I like the sound of that. Let's go."

He offered his arm. "Then let us show the Vanguard their Luna."