"Where I'm I?" I asked myself as I looked around to see I could see any form of life around me. I began walking back, I tried to retrace my steps and go back to the pack, back to Orion, Elijah and Henry. I was a fool to let Liam's words get to me like that. I have heard of what other packs do wolves without packs, mostly females. The warriors at the pack gate had gotten a whiff of my scent; they howled to inform the others that there was an intruder. I kept running, I was so focused on escaping the fangs of my pursuers, that I failed to pay attention to my environment. I tripped on a rock and fell to the ground, I was terrified. The wolves were already over me, I was about to be killed. I heard another howl. The wolf was outnumbered three to one, but he managed to overpower the other three. I saw an opportunity to run and I did. “What is the problem? we would get killed if we stayed there a bit longer!" "Mate, don't let them kill mate." My wolf cried, I was a bit lost. I clearly know that my mate is Liam despite him rejecting me. As the wolves prepared to attack, we heard someone yell; "Enough!!!" The three wolves stopped dead on their tracks. I turned to see that it was a member of their pack, and it seemed that he was the beta of their pack. "Don't fight him, Never in my life would I have killed one of Orion Blackthorn's sons." The beta said as he transformed into a huge brown wolf. "Now, Liam Blackburn, let's dance." Did I just hear Liam? Why did he come to save me?”
View MoreLiam’s povI woke before the sun did. The camp lay quiet, save for the distant murmur of healers and the low moan of dying embers in hearthfires. My limbs feel heavy, though sleep has passed fitfully, dreams still crawling with steel and shadow.I pulled on damp boots, wrapped my cloak around me, and stepped out into the predawn chill. Every breath came visible, a reminder that I was alive and free. But free didn't mean my mind had stopped racing.The eastern gate gleamed dimly under dying torches. I paused before the aged wooden planks, rolling my shoulders. I’d patrolled these gates countless times, back when the pack still trusted me. Now they trusted me again. But trust was easy to take. Peace wasn’t.I checked the guard posted there, nodded good morning, and continued along the palisade toward the watchtower. The wood underfoot was slick with dew. Here and there, we’d set up simple wards, magical wards Henry had helped weave in protective cords. I pressed my hand against one of t
Leila’s POV The first light of morning filtered through the tall pines, painting the clearing in pale gold. I stood before the half-ruined walls of the old infirmary, rolling up my sleeves and stepping over broken tile and scattered bandages. Around me, Crimson Moon’s healers and builders, mothers and fathers, veterans and trainees, worked side by side, repairing shelves, scrubbing floors, and replacing shattered windows. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t a weapon, nor a prisoner, nor a prize to be claimed. I was here to help rebuild and to heal.I crossed the threshold into the ward, where gurneys and stretchers lined the walls. A faded tapestry of the Moon Goddess still hung where an entire wing had collapsed. With a deep breath, I knelt beside a wounded healer named Arin, whose arm had been broken in the final battle.“Morning, Arin,” I said softly, as he pressed his bound forearm against his side, wincing at the movement.He gave me a tired smile. “Good morning, Luna. I see
Elijah’s POV The night settled over Crimson Moon like a velvet cloak, soft and reassuring. The battle was won, the camp secured, and for the first time in many moons, the air was free of fear. I stoked the fire until the logs glowed, sending sparks dancing into the star-filled sky. Beside me, my brothers Henry and Liam and Leila, settled onto blankets spread in a loose circle. The crackle of the fire was the only sound for a moment, warm and steady, like the heartbeat of the earth. The flames licked the logs, casting shadows on our faces, dancing across the walls of the forest around us. It was late, moon high, stars clear, no threat in sight. For once, we were safe. No blood. No running. No fear.I took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the fire chase away the chill that always lingered after battle. Liam sat close to Leila, he leaned back against a rock, arms crossed, a small grin tugging at his lips, his arm casually draped across her shoulders. She rested her head against his
Leila’s POV The dawn light crept softly over the ridge as I sat alone by the edge of the stream, watching my reflection ripple in the clear water. The hush of early morning felt sacred, as if the world had paused to give me space. My hands hovered above the surface, but I did not touch the water. I was not ready to see my face yet, not when my mind was waking from the long fog of enchantment, the bonds that had held me like chains.I closed my eyes and let the memories come.First, the good. I remembered the day I arrived at Crimson Moon’s gates, frightened and alone and how Henry had knelt to offer me a cloak woven with moonlight, his eyes gentle with kindness. I recalled Elijah’s soft music in the moonlit garden, the way his fingers had lifted my trembling hands to teach me the first notes on a piano. I could still feel Liam’s steady grip when he had caught me as I stumbled in basic drills, his voice firm but caring as he corrected my stance. All those moments of warmth and trust,
Henry’s POV The morning sun climbed higher, chasing off the last shadows of dawn, when I found Elijah sitting alone by the riverbank. The camp was stirring ,healers packing their herbs, scouts cleaning weapons, cooks stoking the morning fires, but he sat apart from us all, shoulders slumped, gaze fixed on the silver ribbon of water that wound through the valley.I approached slowly, heart heavy. My brother had lost more than most in this war. He had lost the bond of their shared mate, Leila, his first love, his soul’s counterpart. Elijah and I had both felt the pain of severance, but he had carried his grief deep and silent, his heart still tethered to memories that no longer held magic.“Elijah,” I called gently. He looked up, eyes rimmed with exhaustion and sorrow. His wolf’s light was faint in his gaze, like a dying ember.I knelt beside him on the dew-wet grass. “Come back to camp,” I said softly. “They need you.”He shook his head, forceful and weary. “I’m fine here,” he said, v
Elijah’s POV I sat by the dying embers of our campfire, the night air cool against my skin. The battle is long over; the valley lies quiet now, littered with broken spears and the hushed murmurs of wounded men. All around me, my brothers and the pack tend their fires and their wounds. But no one tends mine.I came here, to this simple clearing where Leila and I once shared stories by the crackling flame, to think. To let the night carry away the echoes of what might have been.I close my eyes and let the memory come. I see her smile, soft and bright. I hear her laughter, light as summer rain. I feel the spark in my chest the first time our hands brushed, that gentle tremor of joy that told me my heart had found home. I remember the way her eyes searched mine in the cave at midnight, trusting me to guide her, protect her, love her. I remember how her wolf felt beneath my fingertips warm, pulsing with life.I breathe deep, tasting the smoke and the cool breeze, and I remind myself it’s
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