Wound Tight

When I was surrounded by the rogue pack far from our territory, I mind-linked my mate, Alpha Luke, begging for help. He refused me fifteen times—and finally, he blocked the link entirely. In the end, I collapsed from exhaustion and lost consciousness, my wolf howling in despair. When I woke up in the infirmary, Alex, the commander of the Werewolf Tribe, was sitting quietly beside me. He was the one who had received my desperate mind-link. He led his warriors, crushed the rogues, and saved me from the jaws of death. Looking into his worried eyes, I no longer hesitated. I took a deep breath and said with unwavering resolve: “Alex, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go to the Northern Territory for training. I leave in 2 days.” Ten minutes later, Luke barged into the room with Kristy—his so-called adoptive sister—and our twin pups trailing behind. Before anyone could speak, he kicked the door open and pointed at me, shouting with cold fury: “You staged this stunt just to outshine Kristy? Do you realize how much warrior strength you wasted just to feed your vanity? You are not worthy to be a Luna!” My elder son, Chris, gave me a sharp glance and scoffed: “Where’s the wound, Mom? You look perfectly fine. Did you fake this just to get attention?” My younger son, Collin, stared at me, eyes filled with disappointment. He shook his head slowly and whispered: “Mom, did you lie to us again… just because we care about Kristy more?” Kristy gripped Luke’s hand, her voice trembling with fake innocence and tears falling down her cheeks: “I’m sorry, Christina… I won’t celebrate my birthday again. Please… stop causing trouble for Luke and the twins.” I clenched my fists, restraining my furious wolf, and stopped Alex from standing up for me. I watched the four of them turn and leave without a second glance. Then, I turned to Alex and said, with icy clarity: “This time, I have no hesitation, no regret. I’m leaving. I’ll go with you to the Northern Territory. And I won’t eat my words.”

Alpha Ethan's first love, Sarah, died unexpectedly just days before their marking ceremony. His grief was so profound, it sent shockwaves through the entire Duskrend pack. I spent my youth walking beside him, helping him crawl out of that darkness. And finally, when he was ready to love again, he chose to mark me. In the first two years after he marked me, I got pregnant twice. Both times ended in miscarriage. Ethan, heart aching, told me he couldn't bear to see me suffer through childbirth again. That he didn't want me to endure that kind of pain anymore. But in the third year, I conceived again. On the way to see the pack healer for a routine checkup, I was attacked by a wild beast. My wolf, desperate to protect me, burned through most of her life force holding the creature off. Ethan arrived just in time and carried me to the pack hospital himself. But the healer shook his head. We had lost too much time. The pup couldn't be saved. Worse, my ability to bear pups would be permanently damaged because my wolf was too injured to ever carry life again. My mother clung to me, sobbing. Ethan stood in the corner and smiled. "Joy just can't have pups anymore," he said. "But Sarah—Sarah lost her life because of people like you." Then he looked at my mother, his voice edged with contempt. "You were the one who forced Sarah to abort. You watched her—an Omega without a wolf—scream herself to death. So now, your daughter shall feel that pain too." Five years after severing our mate bond, Ethan had become the most powerful Lycan Chairman the region had ever seen—courted, admired, endlessly celebrated. And me? I was working at an underground club. I was dressed in scraps of fabric, smiling until my cheeks ached, bowing and pouring drinks for whoever walked into the VIP room. There shouldn't have been any reason for our paths to cross again. But Ethan held me tight, eyes red and refusing to let go— “Say it,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Call me your mate.”