Todos los capítulos de They Both Wanted Me: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Aurora was eighteen when she met him properly.Not that she hadn't known Rylan before—they'd grown up together, played together, trained together. He was the son of one of Kael's trusted wolves, a boy with warm brown eyes and a laugh that filled whatever room he was in. They'd been friends for as long as Aurora could remember, the kind of friends who finished each other's sentences and knew each other's secrets.But something shifted that spring.It happened during a training session—nothing special, just a routine sparring match. Aurora had been paired with Rylan, as she often was, their skills well-matched. But when he caught her wrist to block a strike, when his fingers wrapped around her skin and held, something changed.Their eyes met.And the world stopped."You're staring," Rylan said, his voice uncharacteristically soft."So are you."He laughed—that warm, familiar laugh—but his eyes didn't leave hers. "I guess we're even then."The shift didn't go unnoticed."She's different,

Five years passed after Rylan left.Five years of healing, of growing, of becoming. The girl who'd been broken by heartbreak had emerged as something new. Stronger. Wiser. More herself. Aurora had stopped flinching at the mention of his name. She'd stopped dreaming about his face. She'd started looking forward instead of back."She's ready," Lena said one evening, watching her daughter train with a group of young hybrids. Aurora moved among them with confidence, her light steady, her smile genuine. "Ready for whatever comes next."Kael nodded slowly. "She's been ready for a while. We're the ones who needed time."Caspian's hand found Lena's. "That's what parents do. Hold on too long, then watch them fly."They stood together, watching their daughter soar.Aurora met him at twenty-three.His name was Theron—a vampire, ancient but young-hearted, with eyes that held centuries of wisdom and a smile that made her laugh. He'd come to the city seeking knowledge, drawn by legends of the barri

The generations multiplied like stars in the sky.Lena sat on the porch of the old cabin—the original cabin, preserved as a memorial to where it all began, its wooden walls weathered but strong—and watched her family play in the evening light. Children ran everywhere. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe. She'd lost count decades ago, somewhere between great-grandchild number forty and the first great-great-grandchild she'd held in her arms."Grandma Lena!" A small boy tugged at her sleeve, his dark hair sticking up in every direction. Little Orion, named after the constellation, with Kael's golden eyes and Caspian's thoughtful expression. "Grandma Lena, tell us a story!"She smiled down at him—this child she'd watched grow from a squalling infant to a curious five-year-old who asked questions about everything. "What story, sweetheart?""The one about the alley! And the wolves! And how you met Grandpa Kael and Grandpa Caspian!"Behind him, more children gathered—Selene's twins, Aurora's yo

The years after Kael's death were the longest of Lena's life.Not because they were empty—they were full of family, full of love, full of life. The city continued to thrive. Children were born, couples were married, celebrations were held. The seasons turned, the gardens bloomed, the barrier shimmered. Everything that had been built continued to stand.But every moment carried the weight of his absence.Every sunrise reminded her he wasn't there to see it. Every sunset reminded her he wasn't there to hold her. The chair by the fire remained empty. The space beside her in bed remained cold. The laughter that had once filled their home was quieter now, muted by the hole he'd left behind.Caspian stayed close, his steady presence the only thing that kept her grounded. He didn't try to fill Kael's space—no one could—but he made sure she never felt alone."I miss him too," he said one evening, finding her staring at the stars from the porch. "Every day. Every moment.""I know." Lena leaned

The years after Lena's passing were gentle.Not easy—grief is never easy—but gentle. The family carried their loss together, sharing memories, telling stories, keeping the love alive. Aurora led them with the same warmth her mother had shown, the same wisdom her fathers had taught. The city thrived. The generations multiplied. The love endured.But in the quiet moments, they all felt it—the absence of those three lights that had guided them from the beginning. The cabin on the hill stood empty now, preserved as a memorial. The porch where they'd sat together for so many evenings was silent. The stars that had witnessed their love still shone, but somehow they seemed dimmer without Lena's light among them."She's with them now," Mira said softly, standing at the window of the old cabin. Mira herself was ancient now, her body frail but her spirit unbroken. Her white hair was thin, her hands trembled, but her eyes still held the same fierce hope she'd had when Lena first found her. "Fina