This New Year had been busy.
Busy, chaotic... but fulfilling.
After staying three days at the Hale estate, surrounded by pack elders and distant relatives, I finally returned to Lena’s house.
The energy there felt different now.
Without the Wilchers breathing down her neck, Lena seed to glow. Her skin had color again. Her shoulders weren’t always tense like she was bracing for the next attack.
Grant was sitting beside her in the living room.
And surprisingly
He was peeling apples.
Carefully. Slowly.
Cutting them into small pieces and placing them on a plate before offering them to her like a nervous young male trying to win back favor from the Luna of his territory.
Lena didn’t look at him.
She sat on the couch crocheting small animals from soft yarn tiny bunnies and bears for the baby.
Over the years, during long lonely nights in a cold bond, she had sharpened her craft skills. When the Alpha of the house was absent in heart, she had learned to survive in silence.
Grant sat beside her winding balls of yarn.
It was strangely peaceful.
Like two pack mbers trying to rebuild a broken den.
Then
A phone rang.
Sharp. Sudden.
Grant’s eyes flickered.
"I... need to step out for a bit," he muttered.
Lena didn’t even glance up.
She simply set down her crochet hook and walked upstairs.
We all knew who was calling.
Old habits. Old attachnts. Old weaknesses.
I followed her upstairs quietly.
Just as I opened my mouth to speak, I saw her drop a coin into a large glass jar sitting on the dresser.
Clink.
The sound echoed softly in the room.
"Mom?" I asked gently. "What are you doing?"
She gave a small smile.
"It’s sothing I started years ago," she said.
She held the jar in her hands.
"When I was young and restless, I made a little promise to myself. Every ti your father disappointed ... I’d drop a coin inside. I told myself that once this jar was full, I’d leave him."
I stared at the jar.
It was large.
Very large.
"Mom," I said lightly, "you must have been very forgiving. If it were , even a dium coffee cup would’ve been too big."
She laughed softly.
"You’re right," she admitted. "Deep down, I never truly wanted to leave. I knew the Wilchers depended on him. And I didn’t have the freedom to walk away either. So this beca... a way to comfort myself."
Her fingers brushed over the glass.
"And now," she whispered, "it’s almost full."
The coins had nearly reached the top.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.
"This will end soon, Mom," I said softly. "You’ll have freedom. And happiness. Real happiness."
She repeated the words quietly.
"Happiness... and freedom."
But there was sothing else in her voice.
Sadness.
I pulled back slightly. "Mom? What’s wrong?"
She looked at .
Really looked at .
Her gaze was steady, searching. Not confused. Not emotional.
Certain.
"I know this may sound abrupt," she said slowly. "But I know you’re not my daughter."
My body went completely still.
"I..." My throat felt tight.
She continued, voice trembling.
"I carried Riley for nine months. I raised her. I know her temperant. I know her fears. Her softness. Her hesitation." She swallowed. "You are brave. Clever. Sharp. You don’t hesitate the way she did."
Her fingers gripped the jar tightly.
"I don’t dislike you," she added quickly. "In fact... I like you very much. But tell ... where is Riley?"
Her lips trembled as she finally released the question she had been holding for so long.
No lying to a mother who had felt her child’s heartbeat inside her body.
"Mom," I said quietly.
"You’re right."
I looked up and t her eyes.
"My na isn’t Riley."
A long pause.
"My na is Elena."
Her face went pale.
"You’re not Riley," she said softly.
"Yes... I’m Elena Morrigan."
Lena’s fingers trembled slightly.
I took a slow breath.
"After I was killed, my spirit didn’t leave right away," I said softly. "For a month, I wandered. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. I clung to this world with everything I had."
Even now, rembering that cold emptiness made my chest tighten.
"During that ti, I heard Riley," I continued. "Her heart was breaking. She didn’t want to stay anymore. She was tired. So tired."
The air in the room felt heavy.
"Our fates crossed," I whispered. "I wanted to live. She wanted to leave. And sohow... the Moon allowed it."
Lena’s tears fell faster.
"So Riley..." Her voice cracked.
"She’s gone," I said gently. "Except for you, she had nothing anchoring her here. From her mories, I learned everything. The pain. The humiliation. The loneliness."
I swallowed.
"I promised myself I would finish what she couldn’t. I’ll fulfill her wishes. I’ll protect you for her."
Lena covered her mouth as she sobbed.
"How could that foolish child..." she whispered.
Then her eyes widened slightly.
"That dream," she murmured. "I saw her. She was wearing white. She looked peaceful. She smiled at and said she was free. She said soone else would co love in her place."
I reached for her hands.
"Mom... I’ve battled darkness too. I understand how Riley felt. She wasn’t weak. She was overwheld."
Lena’s breathing steadied slowly.
"When I found out you were pregnant," I continued carefully, "I couldn’t let you end it. I kept thinking... maybe Riley couldn’t fully let go of you. Maybe she ca back in another way."
It might sound impossible.
But in a world where bonds tie souls together and fate rearranges lives, what is impossible?
Lena placed her hand over her stomach.
"Really?" she asked, hope flickering in her eyes.
"Yes," I said firmly. "Whether that child carries Riley’s soul or not, it’s her sibling. And I know she would want you to have soone beside you. Soone to stay."
I knelt in front of her and wiped her tears.
"Mom, I’ll always stay."
She pulled into a fierce embrace.
"No wonder you were so strong," she murmured. "You’ve suffered so much."
Kind people always find ways to understand.
After telling her the truth, I felt lighter. No more pretending. No more hiding instincts that weren’t Riley’s.
That night, I stayed beside her. I told her stories from my childhood about climbing rooftops, stealing mangoes from a neighbor’s tree, fighting boys twice my size.
She laughed until she held her stomach.
"I didn’t expect you to be so mischievous," she said, smiling through tears. "Riley was quiet. She rarely smiled. I failed her."
"You didn’t fail her," I said softly. "Just make sure the new baby grows up laughing."
"I will," she nodded firmly.
"And as for Camilla and Sheila..." she added, her voice lowering, "karma will find them. You don’t need to stain your hands. Just watch."
"Okay," I replied.
She hugged tightly.
"Good girl. Sleep."
Soon, it was the night before Camilla’s wedding.
The Morrigan estate was bright with lights. A banquet filled the grounds. Pack mbers, allies, and business families gathered under chandeliers and winter lanterns.
I didn’t see Vivian anywhere.
Malcom looked exhausted, their faces hollowed out by stress. Even Josh seed older than before.
The Morrigan pack felt fragile. Like one more blow would split it in half.
If they had believed earlier... if they had seen Camilla’s true nature sooner... maybe none of this would have happened.
Their territory was rotting from inside.
If my guess was right, Vivian had lost her mind completely and was being kept upstairs, hidden away from the guests.
No one asked questions.
Among the crowd, one figure stood out.
Tall.
Sharp-featured.
Dangerous.
The sa man I had seen that night.
A woman clung to his arm, but it wasn’t Whitney.
My instincts sharpened imdiately.
Lewis had already looked into him. His na was Vito Blackwell. The Blackwell family had returned to the country not long ago, bringing old power and quiet ambition with them.
As far as I knew, the Morrigan pack had no official ties with the Blackwells.
So why was he here?
As I watched him, he slowly lifted his glass.
A chill ran down my spine.
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