A werewolf shifter romance written by Lily Robert. Prologue. The doctor’s office is too bright, too sterile. Elsa sits perfectly still, hands folded in her lap to hide their trembling. I’m sorry, Mrs. Richards. The test results are conclusive. You won’t be able to conceive.
Elsa stares at the framed diplomas on the wall, focusing on the embossed lettering to keep tears at bay. Are you certain there’s nothing that can be done with your condition? The doctor hesitates, choosing her words carefully. I’m afraid the chances are virtually non-existent. Elsa thinks of the nursery at home, painted sunshine yellow, the crib Hector assembled with reluctant hands.
No child will ever call her mother. No small hand will reach for hers. No bedtime stories or first steps or fingerpainted masterpieces for the refrigerator. All hope seems lost as Elsa navigates the rain sllicked streets toward a home that feels increasingly empty. But little does she know that sometimes it’s precisely when all hope seems lost that family finds you. Chapter 1.
Elsa trails her fingers along the crib’s edge. Afternoon sunlight filtering through pale yellow curtains. 3 days since the doctor confirmed what she suspected for months. She will never be a mother. Another thing my body can’t do right, she whispers, picking up a small wolf plush, squeezing it in her palm.
Being wolfless already marked her as different, incomplete. Most shifters feel their wolves by puberty at the latest. that primal ancient presence that shares their soul, gives them strength, heightened senses, and the power to transform. But Elsa’s wolf never came. A shifter who cannot shift, who doesn’t have a wolf. There’s no bigger disgrace amongst her kind.
Now, this final confirmation feels like the universe’s cruel joke. Not just wolfless, but childless, too. Female shifters rarely have fertility issues, but most shifters have wolves. Her husband, Hector, had said all the right things. We’ll be okay, baby. It’s not the end of the world. But his eyes had shuddered. Cold, unreadable. A beta wolf from a respected bloodline.
He’d married her despite her wolfless status. Something he never let her forget. The alliance with her family had strengthened his position in the pack hierarchy, but she knew he’d always hoped their children would somehow inherit only his strong genes. They had talked about adoption once briefly. Hector had brushed it aside with a laugh.
You want to raise some strangers, kid? We don’t even know what we’d be bringing into our lives. Pack bonds are blood bonds, Elsa. You know that. Elsa had dropped it after that, but the ache remained, growing each time she passed the empty nursery or saw pack mothers with their little ones, teaching them about their wolves, preparing them for their first shift under the watchful eyes of the entire community. The telephone shrill ring cuts through her thoughts.
Elsa moves through the house and answers. Elsa Richards. The voice is strained. Urgent speaking. Lola Caldwell is asking for you. She’s in critical condition. The voice cracks. Rogue wolves attacked her patrol at the territory border. She’s asking for you. Only you. Elsa’s hand tightens around the phone. Lola, her childhood friend.
But they haven’t spoken in nearly a decade. Is she? Elsa begins. But the voice interrupts. The pack healer has done their best, but you need to come to the Ironwood estate. She won’t last long. Lola’s address leads to a massive stone and timber mansion. Two guards flank the entrance, their eyes glowing amber in the fading light.
They catch her scent as she approaches. State your business, outsider. Elsa Richard, your Luna is asking for me. Inside, the house is eerily quiet. Pack members line the corridors, heads bowed. The guard leads her up a sweeping staircase and down a long hallway to a set of double doors. The master bedroom is dim, heavy with the scent of herbs and the sharp tang of blood.
Lola lies pale and bandaged in a vast for poster bed, her golden skin turned ashen. But it’s the cradle beside the bed that catches Elsa’s attention. She had no idea Lola had a baby. Elsa. Lola’s voice is barely audible as she turns her head. You came? Of course I came. Elsa moves to her bedside, taking her hand.
What happened? Rogues testing our borders for weeks. Each word seems to cost Lola tremendous effort. led the patrol myself. Should have waited for backup. From the cradle comes a small whimper, then a fullthroated cry. Elsa glances over, seeing a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. That’s Paige, Lola whispers. My daughter. The baby can’t be more than 4 months old.
She looks up at Elsa with wide, familiar eyes. Lola’s eyes. And something in Elsa cracks open. She reaches out. Shh, she murmurs, rocking gently. Paige quiets almost instantly, her tiny hand curling around Elsa’s finger. She knows, Lola says, a tear sliding down her temple. She senses your family. Where’s her father? Your mate.
Lola’s face contorts with pain. Keith is across the border negotiating with the Eastern Coalition. They can’t reach him in time. She draws a shaky breath. Listen to me, Elsa. I need you to promise me something. Anything, Elsa says automatically, still rocking Paige. Take her. Raise her as your own. Elsa’s head snaps up. What? Lola, I don’t know if I can.
You’re the only one I trust. Lola’s fingers tighten around Elsa’s wrist. Keith, he won’t want her. That’s impossible. What father wouldn’t want his own child? She’s like you, Elsa. Lola’s voice drops to a whisper. I have sensed it since she was born. She’s wolfless. The word lands like a stone in still water.
Elsa looks down at the peaceful baby in her arms. How can you be sure she’s just a baby? A mother knows. Lola’s breathing becomes more labored. Keith’s bloodline goes back to the first pack. His legacy depends on strong wolves. When he finds out, her eyes fill with tears. But you, you’ll understand her. Protect her. Love her despite it.
Ector’s words from their last fight echo in Elsa’s head. I married you despite your condition, but I draw the line at raising someone else’s throwaway child. Lola, she begins. I don’t think my husband will. Please. Blood appears at the corner of Lola’s mouth. My wounds aren’t healing.
Don’t let my baby grow up unloved or as some pack shameful secret. Paige cus softly, blissfully unaware. Something fierce blooms in Elsa’s chest. A feeling she’s always imagined but never experienced. Maternal, protective. Hector will just have to understand, she whispers, surprising herself with her own resolve. Relief washes over Lola’s face. Thank you, her voice grows fainter.
Promise me you’ll love her like your own. I promise, Elsa says, her voice breaking. I promise, Lola. The pack healer moves swiftly to Lola’s side as her breathing becomes erratic. Outside, someone howls, a mournful sound that raises the hair on Elsa’s arms. Lola’s eyes hold hers for one final moment. Gratitude and grief and something else Elsa can’t identify before they flutter closed.
A soft exhale and then stillness. Chapter 2. The yellow nursery that sat empty for years now cradles life. Elsa rocks gently, Paige tucked against her chest, suckling from a bottle. “That’s it, sweet girl,” Elsa whispers, brushing Paige’s cheek. “You’re doing so well.” Only hours have passed since she left the Ironwood estate with Paige in her arms. Hours of learning her rhythms.
How she sleeps best against Elsa’s heartbeat. The tiny size she makes when she’s content. Grief and joy not together in Elsa’s chest. Impossible to separate. Paige’s eyes, Lola’s eyes, gaze up at her with unfocused trust. No sign of a wolf spirit yet, but Elsa doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter what you are, Elsa murmurs. You’re perfect. Tires crunch on gravel.
A car door slams. Footsteps on the porch. Hector is home right on schedule, unaware that everything has changed. Elsa places Paige gently in the crib and moves to the hallway. Elsa, he calls. What’s that scent? Up here? She answers, her voice steadier than she feels. He climbs the stairs two at a time. There’s a car seat downstairs and baby things.
He stops as a soft cry sounds from the nursery. Confusion darkens his face. Hector, I can explain. Elsa attempts. He brushes past her. In the nursery, he stares at Paige, blinking up at him, fists waving. “What is this?” he whispers. Elsa folds her hands in her lap nervously. She knew Hector would be shocked, but she’d hoped for a better reaction, a happy one. Her name is Paige.
She’s 4 months old. Elsa steps between him and the crib. She’s my friend Lola’s baby. She was attacked this morning. I don’t understand. Hector interrupts. What does that have to do with all this? Elsa hesitates measuring her words. “Lola gave her to me, Hector. To us,” she adds hurriedly. He pauses, looks at the baby, looks at Elsa.
“What?” he asks. Paige doesn’t have a wolf. Elsa hurriedly explains. Hector’s face darkens. So, not only someone else’s baby, but Wolfless. His contempt stings, but Elsa doesn’t let it deter her. He loves her despite her lack of wolf. He could also love Paige in time. She’s sure of it. Lola was worried.
She believed her father would not want her. She didn’t want Paige to grow up unloved. She wanted You can’t be serious, Elsa. Hector interrupts. Tell me you didn’t just bring home a baby without even calling me. There was no time. Elsa pleads. Lola was dying, Hector. My taking Paige was her dying wish. She made me promise.
So you made a decision for both of us. Hector’s voice rises, making Paige stir. This isn’t a stray cat, Elsa. It’s a child. He snaps. I know exactly what it is, Elsa replies calmly. Paige fusses again. Elsa lifts her heart racing. She needs someone to love her, she murmurs. And you think that someone is us? Hector snaps.
After I told you I never wanted to raise another man’s child. He paces. This is about your diagnosis, isn’t it? You’re so desperate you’ll take anyone’s cast off. Don’t you dare call her that. Elsa’s voice is sharp, fierce. She’s a gift. She’s defective. Elsa, do you know what this does to my standing in the pack? They already whisper about my wolfless wife. I see. Elsa snaps. So that’s what this comes down to. Your reputation.
Your standing in the pack. Our standing, Elsa. Our life together. Hector’s tone softens. becomes cajoling. Be reasonable. We can find another home for her. A human family perhaps. Somewhere she’ll fit in. Is that what you wish had happened to me? Elsa asks. That I’d been given away to humans.
Hector has the grace to look uncomfortable. That’s not what I meant. It’s exactly what you meant. Clarity washes over her, cold and bracing. You’ve never seen me as your equal, have you? You married me, but you never claimed me as your mate. We agreed to wait until We didn’t agree to anything.
You decided, and I accepted it like I’ve accepted everything else. She looks around the nursery at the crib she’d carefully preserved all these years. But I won’t accept this. I won’t send Paige away. Hector adjusts his tie, eyes cold. And I won’t raise another man’s wolfless child, Elsa. Not even for you. Elsa exhales, a strange calm settling over her.
Well, I can’t break my promise to Lola, she says, looking at Paige. You’d throw away our marriage for this? Hector’s jaw tightens as he looks between Elsa and the baby. I need you to make a choice right now, Elsa. It’s either me or that child. Elsa’s head snaps up in shock. “You’re asking me to choose?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
She searches his face for any hint of the tenderness they once shared, but finds only cold determination. “And what if I am?” He crosses his arms. “If you truly want to save our marriage, you’ll call this child’s father and tell him to come get his daughter tonight. And if I don’t, then pack your things and leave. He says it so matterofactly, as if discussing the weather.
I won’t be the beta who not only couldn’t give his wolfless wife a child, but then raised another alpha’s reject. Paige squirms in Elsa’s arms, her tiny hand curling around Elsa’s finger. The gesture, so small and trusting, brings unexpected clarity. I choose her, Elsa says quietly. Ector blinks clearly not expecting this answer. What? You heard me. Her voice grows stronger. I won’t abandon this baby. Not for you.
Not for anyone. You can’t be serious. Hector laughs. You’d throw away our marriage for a child you’ve known for a few hours. She is mine now. Elsa meets his gaze without flinching. And yes, I would because a man who would ask me to make this choice isn’t a man worth choosing. She walks past him to their bedroom, Paige still cradled against her.
With one hand, she pulls her suitcase from the closet and lays it open on the bed. “I’ll be out within the hour,” she says, her voice surprisingly steady. Hector follows her, watching as she packs essentials with one hand. “You’re making a mistake,” he says. “But there’s uncertainty creeping into his voice now.” He hadn’t expected her to call his bluff. Elsa pauses, looking directly at him.
You never loved me enough to claim me as your mate. And now you’re asking me to abandon a child in need. To break my promise to her mother. All to protect your pride. No, Hector. The only mistake I made was not leaving you sooner. 20 minutes later, Elsa stands on the porch, Paige secured in her car seat, two hastily packed bags at her feet.
The night air is cool against her face, stars appearing in the darkening sky. Elsa picks up her bags and walks to her car without looking back. “Just you and me now, little one,” she whispers to Paige. Chapter 3. Elsa checks the water temperature with her wrist, adjusting the faucet until it’s just right.
The tiny apartment bathroom barely fits both of them, but they’ve made it work for the past week. like everything else. Ready for your bath, sweetheart? She asks, lifting Paige from her bouncy seat perched on the closed toilet lid. The baby kicks her legs in excitement, recognizing the routine they’ve established together. The apartment is small but clean.
One bedroom with just enough space for a secondhand crib beside the twin bed, a kitchenet with a wobbly table, and a living area that fits only a threadbear couch she found at Goodwill. Paige squeals as Elsa lowers her into the water, tiny hands slapping at the surface. That’s right, Elsa laughs. Make a big splash. The phone rang three times yesterday.
Hector alternating between demanding she come home. This has gone on long enough, Elsa and coldly informing her that he’s proceeding with divorce. You’ve made your choice. Now deal with the consequences. During their last conversation, he’d finally revealed what she’d long suspected.
“I need a real mate,” he’d said, his voice hard through the receiver. “Someone who can give me children of my own. My bloodline doesn’t deserve to end because you’re defective. The word had stung, even though she’d heard it whispered behind her back throughout their marriage. Hearing him say it outright had ripped away any remaining illusions.
He’s coming by this afternoon with the initial divorce papers, another chapter of her life closing. Elsa feels a strange mix of grief and relief as she gently shampoos Paige’s fine hair. “Just you and me against the world, little one,” she murmurs. “We’ll be okay.” Elsa wraps Paige in a fluffy towel, carries her to the bedroom, and lays her on the changing pad. She’s just secured a fresh diaper when the doorbell rings.
Three short, impatient bursts. That’ll be Hector. She sigh, pulling a onesie over Paige’s head. Early, of course. Hold on, sweetie. The doorbell rings again, longer this time, then again immediately. Coming. Hold on. She calls hurriedly fastening the snaps on Paige’s outfit. The insistent ringing continues, aggressive now.
Paige’s face crumples at the jarring sound, and she begins to wail. Shh. It’s okay. Elsa soothes, picking her up. She sets Paige down in her crib, tucking a plush rabbit beside her. I’ll make it stop. The doorbell rings again, held down this time, the sound drilling through the apartment. Irritation flares in Elsa’s chest as she hurries to the door. Coming, Hector, calm down.
She pulls the door open and freezes. The man standing in her doorway isn’t Hector. He towers over her with broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his expensive dress shirt, dark hair cut short and precise, strong jaw currently clenched tight, and eyes narrowed with barely contained fury. His scent floods her senses. Even with her dulled, wolfless abilities, she can detect the powerful alpha pherommones rolling off him in waves. “Where is she?” he demands, looking past Elsa. into the apartment.
Where’s my daughter? Elsa’s heart stutters. His daughter. The scent. Now she recognizes it. The undertone that’s present in Paige’s softer baby smell. This is Keith, Lola’s mate. In her crib, she responds automatically, stepping between him and the doorway, upset by your incessant ringing.
His eyes snap to hers, surprise flickering across his features at her boldness. Something strange passes between them. A pulling sensation in Elsa’s chest, like a hook behind her ribs. She attributes it to the intimidating presence of an alpha in her territory. Bold of you to lecture after kidnapping my child, Keith says, voice lowered, but no less intense.
I didn’t kidnap her, Elsa responds defensively. Her mother. Her mother is dead. He cuts her off, pain flashing across his face so quickly she almost misses it. I’m not. Before she can react, he moves her aside with a firm but careful pressure on her shoulder. I’m taking my daughter home. Elsa follows him as he strides into the apartment, nostrils flaring as he tracks Paige’s scent to the bedroom. Confusion swirls in her mind. This isn’t how Lola described him.
He doesn’t seem like a man who would reject his child for being wolfless. He seems desperate to find her. “Wait,” she says, hurrying after him. “You don’t understand. Lola wanted me to take care of Paige because because what? Keith turned sharply in the bedroom doorway, his large frame blocking her view of the crib.
Because she’s wolfless, Elsa says quietly. Like me. Lola said you wouldn’t want a child without a wolf. That you needed an heir with a strong bloodline. Keith stares at her, genuine shock replacing anger. What? Paige cries out again and Keith turns toward the sound. Elsa watches as he approaches the crib, his movement suddenly uncertain.
He looks down at his daughter and something in his expression breaks open. Grief, love, longing all mingled together. He reaches down as if to pick her up, then hesitates, hands hovering awkwardly. Let me,” Elsa says gently, placing a hand on his arm. She feels him tense at the contact, muscles rigid beneath her fingers, but he steps back, allowing her to lift Paige.
“Hey there, little one,” she murmurs, settling the baby against her shoulder in the way she’s learned Paige prefers. The cries soften to hiccuping whimpers, then quiet. Keith watches them, his expression unreadable before turning away as if the sight is painful. “Lola wanted me to have Paige for a reason,” Elsa says carefully.
“She made me promise to care for her.” Keith’s shoulders stiffen, his scent sharpening with something bitter. “Guilt? Anger? She can’t quite tell.” “She had no right to make that decision without me,” he says, voice strained. No right to give my daughter away. I’m taking Paige back.
Elsa strokes Paige’s back, considering her next words carefully. Actually, according to pack law, she had every right. You were outside your territory, which makes the Luna the act of authority in your absence. Her word becomes law. So, if she decided and signed papers for Paige to go to me, I have every legal right to keep her.
Keith turns slowly, surprise and something like reluctant admiration crossing his face. I may not have a wolf, but I was raised in a pack. Elsa shrugs. The alpha crosses his arms, studying her. Pack law might give you standing, but human law would consider this kidnapping. You really want to risk that? Elsa tightens her hold on Paige.
You’re an alpha and yet you’d call humans on me. Do you really doubt I would? His eyes lock with hers, intensity radiating from him. This is my child. The simple declaration hits Elsa with unexpected force. Paige is his child. And despite what Lola said, he clearly wants her. She looks down at the baby, now contentedly playing with a strand of her hair, and doubt creeps in.
Lola must have been wrong about him. But why would she lie? Why give her child away if not for a compelling reason? I promised Lola I would look after Paige, she says softly, uncertainty in her voice. Keith watches them together, his expression softening almost imperceptibly as he observes how comfortable Paige is in Elsa’s arms.
He exhales heavily, seeming to come to some internal decision. Then do he says his tone resolute. Elsa blinks. What? Come home with us. Work for me as Paige’s nanny until we can come to a more permanent arrangement. That way you keep your promise to Lola and I get my daughter back.
Elsa considers the offer, turning it over in her mind. This would give her time to observe Keith with Paige to see if he truly accepts her regardless of her wolfless status. to understand why Lola made such a drastic choice. All right, she agrees cautiously. For Paige’s sake, she shifts the baby to one arm and extends her hand. I’m Elsa, by the way.
Elsa Richards, she says, meeting his eyes and is confused by the emotion she sees in them. I know, he hesitates slowly, reaching back. Keith Caldwell. The moment their skin touches, an electric current seems to spark between them. A jolt that races up Elsa’s arm and spreads through her chest. Keith drops her hand as if burned, stepping back abruptly.
“We leave now,” he says curtly, turning away. “Pack what you need for yourself and the baby.” As he strides from the room, Elsa remains frozen, staring at her hand where warmth still lingers from his touch. Chapter 4. Elsa gazes out the car window as it winds up the long driveway, pine trees standing on either side.
Paige sleeps in her car seat, oblivious to the tension surrounding her. The nanny quarters are in the east wing, Keith says, breaking the hour-long silence between them, close to the nursery. Elsa nods, anxiety fluttering in her stomach. She’s entering the wolf’s den, literally giving up her independence to ensure Paige’s well-being.
The house staff awaits them at the entrance, a row of impeccably dressed shifters with carefully neutral expressions. Only their sense betray their curiosity about the wolfless woman carrying their alpha’s child up the grand staircase. “Martha will show you to your room,” Keith says stiffly. He hesitates, eyes lingering on Paige before looking away.
I have pack business to attend to. A plump, gray-haired woman steps forward with a gentle smile. This way, miss. Elsa follows Martha down plush carpeted hallways adorned with paintings of forest landscapes and past alpha leaders. Paige stirs against her shoulder, taking in the new surroundings with wide eyes. Here’s the nursery, Martha says, opening a door to reveal an extravagant room decorated in soft greens and golds.
Master Keith had it prepared years ago, though it’s never been used until now. Years ago, before Paige was even born. The revelation sits uncomfortably with Elsa. and your quarters,” Martha continues, showing Elsa in a joining room, tastefully appointed with a full-sized bed, dresser, and sitting area. “You’ll have privacy, but be close enough to hear the little one.
” Elsa sets Paige down on the bed, surrounding her with pillows. “Martha, I’d like to see Lola’s room.” Martha’s eyebrows rise slightly, but she nods. “Of course. I thought you might want to gather some of her things. items with her scent for the baby. Exactly. Elsa says, relieved at the woman’s understanding. Paige should have something of her mother’s.
Martha leads her down another hallway to a set of double doors. This was the Luna’s private suite. The room is frozen in time, a book still open on the nightstand, perfume bottles arranged on the vanity, a silk robe draped over a Sha’s lounge. Lola’s scent lingers, fading, but present. Jasmine and vanilla with an undertone of something wild.
Elsa moves through the space quietly as if afraid to disturb the memories. This wasn’t the master bedroom, she observes, noting the absence of masculine touches. Martha busies herself opening a drawer, avoiding Elsa’s eyes. No, the alpha suite is in the west wing. I see. Elsa picks up a cashmere throw from the foot of the bed, knowing Paige will find comfort in her mother’s scent. They didn’t share a room.
Martha sigh, her professional reserve cracking slightly. Not for the past 5 years or so. It wasn’t always that way, but she shrugs. Things changed. They were fighting? Elsa asks, trying to understand. That’s the strange thing. Martha folds a silky scarf, adding it to the small pile of items for Paige. They didn’t fight. They just drifted apart.
Became like strangers living under the same roof. Cold, distant. Elsa frowns. But they were mated. The bond doesn’t allow for that kind of separation. Wolves mated for life, their spirits entwined so deeply that physical distance caused actual pain. Elsa had always envied that certainty, that unbreakable connection she would never experience. Martha nods knowingly.
That’s what made it so hard on them both. Neither doing well with it, especially the Luna. looking like she was wasting away from inside. She lowers her voice. Master Keith started taking more trips, staying away for weeks sometimes. And the Luna, yes, she became reckless.
When those rogues were spotted on our borders, the security team advised waiting for reinforcements, but she insisted on leading the patrol herself. Martha shakes her head sadly. It wasn’t like her. Not until these last few years. The sound of a throat clearing makes them both jump. Keith stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but his scent sharp with displeasure.
Martha, I believe the kitchen needs your attention, he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Of course, Alpha. Martha hurries past him with an apologetic glance at Elsa. Keith’s gaze sweeps over the room, pain flashing briefly across his features before his mask of indifference returns. Find what you need. Elsa clutches the cashmere throw.
Yes, for Paige. He nods once, then turns to leave. Dinner is at 7. Alone in Lola’s room, she gathers the items for Paige and walks to the window, gazing out at the forest beyond. Something isn’t adding up. A mated pair growing cold and distant. Lola’s recklessness. Her desperate final wish to keep Paige away from Keith.
What were you hiding, Lola? She whispers to the empty room. What really happened between you two? Chapter 5. Elsa paces the length of the nursery, bouncing Paige gently with each step. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes three times. 3:00 in the morning and the baby has been fussing since midnight. New place, new sounds, new smells. It’s no wonder she’s unsettled.
Shh, sweetheart, Elsa whispers, her voice raspy from hours of soft singing and soothing words. Everything’s okay. I’m right here. Paige whimpers, her little face scrunched in discontent. Nothing seems to work. Not the rocking chair, not the soft lullabies, not the gentle backpacks that usually soothe her to sleep.
The move has disrupted everything familiar, and Elsa feels a stab of guilt. Was bringing her to this enormous, strange house the right choice? She runs through the checklist again. Dry diaper, recently fed, not too hot or cold. Just overt tired and overwhelmed probably. “We’ll get through this,” Elsa murmurs, pressing a kiss to Paige’s forehead.
“First night in a new place is always the hardest.” A soft knock at the door makes her turn. Keith stands in the doorway, hair rumpled in the dim glow of the nightlight. The defined muscles of his chest and shoulders are impossible to ignore. Elsa quickly averts her eyes. “I heard her crying,” he says, voice rough with sleep.
“Is something wrong?” Elsa shifts Paige higher on her shoulder. “Just having trouble settling.” “I’m sorry if we woke you.” Keith steps into the room, concern evident on his usually stoic face. “You didn’t. I was listening. Has she been like this all night? About 3 hours now, Elsa admits. I think it’s the new environment.
Too many unfamiliar scents. To her surprise, understanding flashes across Keith’s face. Pack cubs often have trouble sleeping in new places. Their senses are overwhelmed. Is there something that helps? Elsa asks, too exhausted to maintain her usual weariness around him. Keith hesitates, then approaches. “May I?” He extends his arms.
Elsa carefully transfers the fussing baby, watching as Keith awkwardly adjusts his hold. His large hands nearly engulf Paige’s tiny form, but he’s gentler than Elsa expected. Without warning, he sits in the rocking chair and shifts Paige against his bare chest. The baby stills almost immediately, her tiny hand splaying against his skin.
Skin contact, Keith explains, noticing Elsa’s surprise. It helps them sense parental pherommones more directly. Elsa sinks onto the ottoman, relief and curiosity mingling as she watches Paige’s eyes grow heavy against her father’s chest. I didn’t know that. They sit in silence for several minutes, the only sound Paige’s gradually slowing breaths.
Keith rocks gently, his expression softening as he watches his daughter drift toward sleep. “I expected you to be angrier,” Elsa finally says, her voice barely above a whisper about Lola giving her to me. Keith’s rocking slows. I was. I am. His jaw tightens, but his hold on Paige remains gentle, but anger won’t help her sleep.
No, it won’t, Elsa agrees, a tentative smile forming. For the first time, she sees beyond his alpha exterior to the father beneath. A man learning to put his child’s needs above his own feelings. I never wanted to take her from you, she adds, needing him to understand. I just wanted to honor my promise to Lola.
Keith meets her eyes, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. In the dim light, his bare chest rises and falls with each breath, the defined muscles casting subtle shadows. Elsa finds herself suddenly aware of their solitude, the intimate quiet of the night darkened nursery. “I don’t know why Lola did what she did,” he says, voice dropping to a lower register that sends an unexpected shiver down Elsa’s spine, but I’m grateful she chose you.
Something in the way he says it, the weight behind his words, the intensity in his eyes, the unexpected intimacy of the moment brings heat rushing to Elsa’s cheeks and with it immediate embarrassment. Her divorce is not even finalized, and this man, Lola’s widowerower, is just being polite.
“Thank you for letting me stay,” she manages to say, clearing her throat. Keith’s eyes drop briefly to her parted lips before returning to meet her gaze. We both want what’s best for her. That’s enough common ground for now. A truce, Elsa realizes, not friendship.
Certainly not forgiveness for what happened with Lola, but a starting point built on their shared concern for Paige. As if sensing her thoughts, Keith adds quietly, “She needs both of us. Something warm and unfamiliar unfurs in Elsa’s chest at those words. An echo of the strange pull she felt when they first touched. She watches as Keith rises carefully, Paige secure against him, and gently places her in the crib.
She and Keith stand side by side, watching the baby sleep peacefully at last. The subtle pine and earth scent of him fills her senses. The heat radiating from his skin seems to call to her, drawing her closer without her conscious permission. When their arms accidentally brush, a jolt of electricity races through her, so powerful she gasps softly. “What was that?” she whispers, unable to stop herself.
Keith inhales sharply at the same moment, his pupils dilating slightly as his gaze snaps to hers. He takes a deliberate step back, creating distance between them. “It’s late,” he says, voice rough. “The move has been stressful for everyone.” For one breathless moment, he doesn’t move away. His eyes lock with hers.
Something raw and conflicted in their depths. His free hand rises as if to touch her face, hovers in the space between them. I can’t,” he whispers so quietly she almost doesn’t hear it. Before Elsa can ask what he means, he pulls away, the sudden absence of contact leaving her strangely bereff. He crosses to the door in three long strides. Keith, wait.
He pauses at the threshold, his back to her, shoulders rigid with tension. This, whatever you’re feeling, it’s not what you think. It can’t happen. But if she wakes again, come get me, he says, voice carefully controlled. You don’t have to handle this alone anymore. With that, he’s gone, leaving Elsa staring at the empty doorway, her hand still tingling from where it touched his skin.
Something significant just happened. Something Keith clearly recognized and retreated from. Alone in the quiet nursery, Elsa wraps her arms around herself. The pull she feels toward Keith isn’t like anything she’s ever experienced. Not a simple attraction, but something almost primal, something that calls to her on a level she doesn’t understand. But for tonight at least, Paige sleeps peacefully.
And for now, that has to be enough. Chapter 6. One month later, Elsa winces at the sound of Paige’s teething ring hitting the marble floor for the fifth time. The baby giggles, delighted with her new game of drop and watch Elsa pick it up. You’re developing quite the sense of humor, Elsa says, retrieving the toy and wiping it clean before returning it to Paige’s outstretched hands.
From his position at the breakfast table, Keith glances up from his newspaper, his eyes following Paige’s movements with quiet intensity. When their eyes meet across the room, that now familiar warmth spreads through Elsa’s chest. A sensation that hasn’t diminished with time, but grown stronger. She looks away first, focusing intently on wiping Paige’s chin, aware of the slight quickening of her pulse.
The house phone rings and Martha answers in the kitchen before appearing in the doorway. It’s for you, Miss Richards. Your [Music] husband. Ex-husband. Elsa corrects gently, settling Paige into her high chair. I’ll take it in the study. Keith’s jaw tightens, his scent shifting subtly with an emotion Elsa can’t quite identify.
possessiveness, irritation, whatever it is, the intensity of it makes her skin prickle as she passes his chair. In the privacy of the oak panled study, Elsa steals herself. Hector, what is it this time? You moved in with them? His voice crackles with disbelief. You’re working as a nanny for some alpha who actually wants his defective child.
Do you realize how this makes me look? Elsa size too tired for his theatrics. The divorce papers have been filed. My choices are no longer your concern. They are when you’re still technically my wife. Hector’s voice rises. The pack is talking, Elsa. They’re saying I wasn’t man enough to keep you. That you ran straight to a stronger wolf.
His words bring unbidden images to her mind. Keith’s strong hands cradling Paige. The play of muscles across his shoulders when he reaches for something on a high shelf. The way his presence fills a room. She pushes the thoughts away, disturbed by their persistence.
Do you know how humiliating this is? Hector insists after I took you in despite your condition. The familiar barb stings less than it used to. We’ll be divorced soon enough, Hector. Then you can tell whatever story makes you feel better. She hangs up, catching her reflection in the window glass. Something’s changed in her face, a subtle glow to her skin, a brightness that makes her pause.
Is it just her new confidence or something more? A few weeks later, Elsa cheers as Paige pulls herself up on the coffee table, wobbling proudly on unsteady legs. You’re going to be walking before we know it, she exclaims. Keith enters silently, Elsa sensing his presence before she sees him. She’s advancing quickly, he comments.
She is, Elsa agrees, trying to ignore how his voice sends ripples of awareness down her spine. Your father’s watching, Paige. Show him how strong you are. As if understanding, Paige bounces on her legs, beaming a toothless grin at Keith. Something in his expression softens almost imperceptibly. He approaches, his tall frame casting a shadow over them. The space between them seems charged, heavy with unspoken tension.
Elsa has learned to live with this constant awareness of him. The way her body responds to his proximity, like an instrument being tuned to a specific frequency, she supposes it’s because Keith is an alpha. He sets the box on the table, careful to maintain distance between them.
His movements have become deliberate around her, as if he too is conscious of some invisible force drawing them together. These arrive from storage. Lola’s photo albums. I thought for Paige when she’s older. Elsa’s surprise must show on her face because Keith adds somewhat defensively. She should know her mother.
Their hands touch briefly as she takes the box, and for a moment neither moves, Keith’s pupils dilating slightly before he steps back, clearing his throat. Thank you, Elsa says softly. It’s very thoughtful. He nods once, then leaves, his retreat becoming a familiar pattern. Closeness followed by swift withdrawal as if fighting some inner battle.
Later, after Keith has left for a pack meeting, Elsa flips through the albums. Photos of a younger Lola smile up at her. class pictures, family gatherings, the Lola she knew. Confident, level-headed, practical. She pauses at a photo taken at Lola’s birthday party 5 years ago, the last time they’d seen each other before the day at the estate.
Lola stands radiant in a silver dress, arm linked with Elsa’s, Hector scowlling slightly in the background. It had taken considerable persuasion to make him attend since they’d already missed Lola’s mating ceremony due to his urgent business. She was so happy. Then, Elsa murmurs to Paige, who drools contentedly on a teething biscuit.
Not at all someone who would throw herself recklessly into danger. As she tucks the album away, the contradiction gnaws at her. The Lola she knew wouldn’t make irrational decisions, wouldn’t give away her child without an ironclad reason. But that reason couldn’t be what Lola claimed. Keith’s rejection of a wolfless child. He may be awkward with Paige, but his devotion is obvious in a hundred small ways.
And as for his attitude toward wolfless shifters, when the pack’s third had made a dismissive comment about Elsa’s unfortunate condition last week, Keith’s response had been immediate and cutting. Ms. Richards has shown more loyalty and commitment to this pack’s future than you have, Collins, he’d said coldly.
I suggest you remember that before opening your mouth again. The memory of his defense warms her still. No one has ever stood up for her like that. Not her parents, not Hector, no one. That night, she’d dreamed of Keith waking tangled in her sheets, her skin flushed and heart racing. Chapter 7, 3 months later.
“Ma!” Paige babbles, reaching for Elsa as she stirs oatmeal at the kitchen counter. The spoon clatters against the bowl. Elsa freezes, glancing toward Keith, who sits at the table reviewing territory reports. The air between them thickens with unspoken tension. “That’s just babbling,” Elsa says quickly.
“All babies make those sounds,” Keith sets his pen down carefully. “But she’s reaching for you.” “I am the one who feeds her most often,” Elsa explains, heart racing. “It’s natural she associates me with With being her mother, Keith’s voice is quiet, but not angry as she’d expected. Instead, there’s a strange
resignation in his tone. Elsa abandons the oatmeal to kneel before Paige’s high chair.
“Your mama was beautiful and brave,” she tells the baby, “Her name was Lola, and she loved you very much.” When she rises, Keith is watching her with an intensity that steals her breath. His focus has shifted from Paige to her, his gaze lingering on her face with unmistakable hunger.
For one suspended moment, the kitchen seems to shrink around them, the distance between their bodies charged with electricity. “Then Paige squeals, breaking the spell. Keith stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.” “I’ll be in my study,” he mutters, leaving the room with hurried steps. Later, after Paige has been put down for her nap, Elsa finds herself drawn to Keith’s study as if pulled by an invisible thread.
She hovers in the doorway, watching him stare out the window at the forest beyond. I’m sorry about this morning, she says. I don’t want to confuse her about who her mother is. Keith turns, his expression carefully controlled, though his scent betrays a complex mix of emotions.
He’s close enough that she can see the different shades of gray in his eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw. Do you have any idea? Elsa hesitates, measuring her words as she walks up to him. Keith, why do you think she might have wanted to give Paige to me? The direct question catches Keith off guard. No, he
says, looking away.
But the tension in his shoulders tells Elsa he’s not being completely honest. Keith, it doesn’t make sense. Lola wasn’t irrational. She wouldn’t have given Paige to me without a compelling reason. But everything she told me about you wanting a child with a wolf spirit, it clearly isn’t true. Keith’s face hardens, closing off. No, it isn’t. Then why? I don’t know.
He cuts her off, turning back to the window. But when Elsa moves to leave, his hand catches her wrist, the touch sending shock waves up her arm. Our bond was complicated toward the end. They stand frozen, connected by his grip on her wrist, his thumb unconsciously stroking the pulse point there.
Elsa can hear his breathing slightly faster than normal, matching her own quickened pace. Finally, Keith releases her, stepping back as if burned. I will not speak of this again. The dismissal is clear, but his eyes tell a different story, one of conflict and restraint. The heavy silence that follows makes it clear the conversation is over. But Elsa can’t shake the feeling that Keith is withholding something crucial.
Something that might explain Lola’s desperate final choice. That night, as she rocks Paige to sleep, questions tumble through Elsa’s mind. What could drive maided wolves apart against the powerful bond that should keep them connected? And most troublingly, if Lola lied about Keith’s rejection of a wolfless child, what was the real reason she wanted to keep Paige away from her father? Chapter 8. The full moon casts long shadows across Elsa’s bedroom floor.
Sleep evades her, as it has most nights since she moved into Keith’s home. Even with rooms between them, his presence lingers, heavy and inescapable. But tonight feels different, urgent. She slips from bed, wrapping a robe around her shoulders. The house is quiet, save for the creek of settling timber. She drifts to the nursery, checking on Paige out of habit, though the baby has slept through the night for weeks.
Paige lies peacefully, a tiny fist curled near her cheek. The sight soothes Elsa, grounding her. On the dresser sits the photo album Keith gave her. Its pages marked with sticky notes for when Paige is older. “Your mother loved you so much,” Elsa whispers, brushing a finger along the album’s spine.
“I wish I knew why she did what she did. The album shifts just slightly, its weight uneven. Curious, Elsa lifts it and finds a leatherbound journal tucked into a hollow behind the last page. Her pulse quickens. She recognizes it. The same journal she’d glimpsed under Lola’s pillow months ago. Elsa hesitates, then gently she draws it out and settles on the window seat, bathed in moonlight.
The first pages are routine pack territory notes household details. But as she reaches entries from 5 years ago, the tone changes. May 12, my birthday. Keith wasn’t even supposed to attend my birthday celebration. He had negotiations with the Eastern Packs. But he surprised me, arriving just as the party reached its peak. I was so happy to see him.
For those first few minutes, everything was perfect. Then he froze. I’ve never seen anything like it. His entire body went rigid. His eyes locked on someone across the room. Through our bond, I felt it. A violent seismic shift as if the Earth had tilted on its axis. I knew instantly what was happening.
Keith, with who I share a bond of convenience, had just found his faded mate. He excused himself moments later, locked himself in the study for nearly an hour. When he emerged, he was pale, shaking. He avoided her completely for the rest of the night. But I could feel everything through our bond, the shock, the recognition, the desperate primal pull toward her. And she had no idea.
Didn’t even notice him. How could she not feel what nearly brought an alpha to his knees? Keith hasn’t said a word about it. Maybe he never will, but I know. Gods help me. I know. Elsa gasped softly, a hand flying to her mouth. Faded, mate. The term was almost mythical among wolves. A connection so rare and powerful it transcended ordinary bonds. She’d heard stories, of course.
Every shifter grew up with legends of wolves finding their one true match, their destined partner. To feel your mate’s soul reaching for another. Elsa can hardly imagine such torment. She turns the page, drawn deeper into the tragedy unfolding in the faded ink. May 13. He barely slept. I felt him pacing all night, his thoughts chaotic, his wolf howling inside him.
“When I confronted him this morning, he finally broke.” “I can’t explain it,” he said. “I’ve never felt anything like it. It was like being struck by lightning.” “I asked if he wanted to be released from our bond.” He looked horrified at the suggestion. “Never,” he swore. What I felt was instinct, animal, nothing more. I made vows to you, Lola.
I keep my vows. He begged me not to tell her. Said he would master these feelings, bury them so deep they’d never surface again. But the truth sits between us now, like a third presence in our marriage. How do we move forward with this between us? Elsa’s fingers trace the words, feeling Lola’s desperation seeping through them. August 30.
It’s been 3 months and nothing has improved. If anything, it’s worse. Keith tries, God’s how he tries, but I can feel him pulling away. Not physically, but emotionally, spiritually, he’s becoming a stranger. The worst moments are when her name comes up in conversation. Every muscle in his body tenses. He asks questions that seem casual, but I feel his desperation through our bond.
He’s never met her properly, never even spoken to her. Yet, she occupies his thoughts more than the mate who shares his bed. A strange tightness forms in Elsa’s chest. The thought of Keith belonging to someone else, even by fate’s design, brings an unexpected pang of not jealousy. Surely she has no claim on him.
Yet the feeling persists, sharp and insistent. December 18th. We’re sleeping in separate rooms now. It’s better this way. I can’t bear to feel him dreaming of her, even unconsciously. He doesn’t complain. Maybe he’s relieved. I suggested ending our bond again today. He refused more vehemently than before. Said severing a bond could kill me.
Said he would never risk my life. Never abandon his responsibilities. Said he loved me still. Maybe he does. But his love is changed, weathered into something that resembles duty more than passion. She haunts us both now. The woman who holds my mate’s soul in her unwitting grasp. Elsa sigh.
What kind of woman could hold such power over an alpha? And where is she now? The thought of Keith eventually finding her, claiming her brings that strange ache back to Elsa’s chest. The entries continue, charting Lola’s spiral through grief, anger, and finally desperate hope. February 6th, I’m pregnant. The healer confirmed it today. Keith’s face when I told him.
I’ve never seen such raw hope. Perhaps this is our salvation. A child to bind us, to remind us of what matters beyond primal pulls and mystical bonds. December 10th. Paige is 3 months old today. Perfect in every way except the one that matters to our kind. I’ve known since she was born, though I’ve hidden it from Keith. She has no wolf spirit.
I watch Keith with her, so gentle, so careful. But the pack will care. They’ll whisper as they’ve done about others without wolves. Last night, I dreamed they were together, Keith, Paige, and her, a family. In my dream, they were happy. Paige was laughing, reaching for them both. And the strangest thing happened. I felt peace.
Real peace, for the first time in years. The final entries grow increasingly erratic, desperate. Elsa’s breath catches. She turns to the final entry dated just 2 days before Lola’s death. March 4th. I dreamed of them again last night. The three of them together, a true family bonded by love and fate. In my dream, Paige called her mama. And it felt right.
as if this was always how things were supposed to be. It’s decided then. I’ve updated my will. If anything happens to me, Elsa gets temporary guardianship of Paige. I know Keith will fight it. His pride, his duty to his bloodline. But Elsa is stronger than anyone knows. She’ll stand her ground. When Keith comes for Paige, he’ll have to face Elsa.
And maybe then, finally, she’ll feel the bond, too. Her wolfless nature may have dulled her senses at my birthday, but with time, with proximity. I believe she’ll feel it. The connection that has haunted my marriage for 5 years. And if I’m right, if they find each other, if they claim what fate intended all along, then Paige will have both her father and a mother who understands her perfectly.
Keith will have his faded mate, the one his soul has been crying out for. And Elsa, dear sweet Elsa, who settled for that pompous beta who treats her like a consolation prize. She’ll finally have the love and respect she deserves. The journal slips from Elsa’s numb fingers, landing with a soft thud on the window seat. Her mind reels, unable to process the revelation.
She’s Keith’s faded mate, the woman whose very existence tore apart his marriage to Lola. The one whose unwitting presence caused such pain. Memories flood back. Lola’s birthday 5 years ago. She remembers arriving late, flustered after arguing with Hector about attending at all. She recalls Lola embracing her, whispering, “I’m so glad you came.” But she has no memory of Keith.
But these past months in his home, the pull she’s felt toward him from the moment they met, the electric current that passes between them with every accidental touch, the dreams that leave her breathless and aching. “Is this what a faded bond feels like? This certainty, this inevitability, this constant awareness?” “No,” she whispers, pressing her hands to her burning cheeks. “It can’t be.
If Lola was right, if she is Keith’s faded mate, then Keith has known since the moment he saw her standing in her apartment door just as he fought it with Lola. The sound of the door opening makes her gasp, head snapping up to meet Keith’s gaze, who standing frozen in the doorway. Chapter 9. It’s me, Elsa says barely above a whisper. I’m your faded mate.
The words hang in the air, fragile, devastating. Keith’s expression twists. Shock, longing, then grief. His jaw tightens as if holding himself together. You were never supposed to know, he murmurs, voice rough. Elsa rises from the window seat, clutching Lola’s journal to her chest like a shield. You knew from the moment I saw you at Lola’s birthday, he replies, still not moving from the doorway. 5 years ago.
And you never told me, never came looking. The hurt in her voice surprises her. Keith’s hands clench. I was mated to Lola. I made vows. And you kept them, she says gently. Even when it tore you apart. Something flickers in his eyes. Raw hunger restrained for a heartbeat. Elsa thinks he’ll cross the room. Instead, he steps back. It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. Doesn’t matter. Elsa repeats.
Keith, this explains everything. The pull between us. How Paige lights up around both of us. Even why Lola don’t. his voice cut sharp. Don’t use her name to justify this. I wasn’t. You think this is some beautiful fate that Lola died so we could be together? She’s dead, Elsa. Because of me. Because of this curse. That’s not what her journal says.
Elsa counters, stepping closer. She wanted. I know what she wanted. Keith roars, alpha power crackling in the air. Paige stirs in her crib with a soft whimper. Elsa rushes to her, soothing her gently. When she looks up, Keith’s rage has faded to something worse. Resignation. You and Paige should leave in the morning, he says flatly. Go back to your apartment.
You’re sending us away because I’m your mate. It’s better this way for everyone. How? Elsa snaps. How is tearing Paige from her father better? denying what we are. Because I destroy everything I touch, he explodes. I failed Lola. I can’t do this again. I won’t fail you or her. You won’t, Elsa says, tears streaming.
Paige needs you, and I don’t, he says, voice cracking. I love you, she says anyway. Before I knew, before I understood why being near you felt like home. Keith closes his eyes, pain written across his face. I won’t let you push us away because you’re afraid. Elsa says this isn’t fear. It is. She cuts in.
I was married to a man who made me feel broken, like I didn’t deserve love, and I believed him because I was scared. She steps closer. But I’m not scared anymore. Not with him and not with you. Keith shakes his head. This isn’t the same. Paige’s sudden cry slices through the tension. Elsa moves, but Keith is faster, scooping the baby into his arms with effortless tenderness. “Da,” Paige says, patting his cheek.
Keith flinches like he’s been struck. “Do you think she’d miss me?” he says horarssely. “If I were to give her up, to give you?” “Of course she’d miss you,” Elsa snaps. “What are you talking about, Keith? Give her up? You’re her father?” She takes a step toward him. But Keith retreats, maintaining the distance between them. Elsa, don’t.
He warns. Your daughter calls for you. You cannot send her away. Elsa replies. Keith’s jaw tightens. You don’t understand. I understand perfectly, Elsa interrupts. I’ve read Lola’s journal. I know how you tried to honor your vows to her despite the faded bond pulling you toward me. Then you know why this can’t happen, Keith says, gesturing between them.
Why I don’t deserve. It’s not about what you deserve. Elsa cuts in, voice rising with emotion. It’s about what your daughter needs, and she needs her father and a mother. The one Lola chose for her. She was dying, Keith argues, not thinking clearly. She was thinking of Paige, not Bonds, not herself, her daughter. Paige squirms. Da da, she says again.
Keith’s hand trembles as it rests on her tiny back. I failed Lola. I’ll fail you, too. You didn’t fail her, Elsa says. You loved her the best you could with a heart that was never fully yours to give. I made her feel less than she was. He pulls Paige closer. Her small hand pats his face again like she couldn’t measure up. But not by choice.
Elsa says no one’s to blame. I still hurt her. Yes, but did you read her final entries? She gave her daughter to me because she trusted I’d love her like my own. Because she believed we’d find each other. All three of us. I want to believe that, Keith whispers.
But how could seeing me with someone else bring her peace? Because she loved you, Elsa says. Keith holds Paige tighter. I’m not telling you to forget her, Elsa says, placing her hand on his arm. But to raise the daughter she entrusted to you by giving us the family she wanted for Paige. Paige reaches toward Elsa. Keith shifts her gently and the baby stretches her arms toward both of them. “Mama,” Paige says clearly. Tears spring to Elsa’s eyes.
She meets Keith’s gaze. His expression softens, something protective, fierce, and full of awe sparking in his eyes. “If we do this, there’s no going back,” he murmurs. “The bond, it’ll be permanent.” Keith lifts a hand to Elsa’s cheek, trailing gently to the nape of her neck.
“Good,” Elsa says, “because I’m not leaving. Not again.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to hers. “I fought this for 5 years.” “You don’t have to fight anymore,” she whispers, cupping his jaw. “When their lips meet, it feels like something finally falling into place.
” The kiss deepens, tender at first, then urgent, the bond flaring between them like fire. When they pull apart, breathless, Paige giggles, patting both their faces with delight, their family complete. Epilog 6 months later, the grand ballroom of the Ironwood estate glows with the soft light of crystal chandeliers. Pack members in formal attire line the marble hall, their attention fixed on the ornate deis where Keith stands in an impeccable black suit, his presence commanding even in silence.
Tonight we gather not just for celebration. His powerful voice resonates throughout the elegant space but to formally recognize our Luna. Elsa steps forward, Paige balanced on her hip. The toddler wears a tiny silver dress matching her mother’s elegant gown. A collective murmur of approval ripples through the assembled guests. “My faded mate,” Keith continues, taking Elsa’s hand.
“Mother to my daughter, strength of our pack.” The traditional claiming ceremony passes in a blur of ancient words and modern promises. When Keith places the delicate silver cirlet on her head, symbol of her status as Luna, Elsa feels a surge of emotion so powerful it steals her breath.
From wolfless outcast to Luna of the most powerful pack in the region, from barren and worthless to mother and mate, the journey still feels dreamlike at times. Afterward, during the reception, Elsa notices a familiar figure at the edge of the gathering.
Hector stands stiffly among a delegation from neighboring packs, his eyes fixed on her with undisguised shock. Keith follows her gaze, his arm tightening possessively around her waist. “Shall I have him removed?” he murmurs against her ear. Elsa smiles, leaning into her mate’s embrace. No need, she replies. Let him see what he threw away. As if sensing the attention, Hector approaches, offering a formal bow. Luna Caldwell, he says stiffly.
Congratulations on your claiming. Thank you, Elsa replies serenely, watching him struggle to reconcile the confident woman before him with the wolfless wife he’d discarded. Paige chooses that moment to squirm in Keith’s arms, reaching for Elsa. “Mama,” she demands.
Elsa takes her daughter, feeling the weight of Hector’s stare as he witnesses what he once declared impossible. Elsa as mother, as Luna, as complete. “Quite a turn of events,” Hector manages. As he retreats, Elsa exchanges a look with Keith that speaks volumes of triumph, of belonging, of a future neither could have imagined before fate and courage brought them together.
She may not have a wolf, but Elsa has something far more precious. A family built on choice as much as destiny. A place where she truly belongs. Thank you so much for listening. I hope you enjoyed this story. It was inspired by a request from one of you, my amazing listeners. If you liked it, feel free to give it a thumbs up or leave a comment. It really helps the channel and means a lot to me.
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