3. Moving On

2259 Words
Keya's POV Cara and I stood at the entrance a moment longer, the wind lifting strands of my hair as I stared out over the land I’d once called home. Stormveil Pack. It was still home. No matter where I went, this would always be my home. Cara finally nudged me with her elbow. “You ready to go in?” I let out a breath. “No. But let’s do it anyway.” She gave me a sideways smile. “Spoken like a true Stormveil, babe. You are. No matter where you went, you belong here.” "Hey, Cars, not a word to Ryker about this, not yet, okay?" I looked at her, and my best friend gave me a nod. "He doesn't need to worry about him just before his big day." I sighed. It was Ryker’s birthday and his Gshaana in just a few days, and I didn’t want him worrying about me—not now. He had enough on his shoulders. James was lucky, honestly, that his betrayal landed right before something this important. Otherwise, Ryker would’ve already torn him apart. Because this wasn’t just any birthday. It was his twenty-eighth, the age when a born Alpha was officially indoctrinated into the High Council of Wolves and Lycans. The Gshaana was more than ceremony—it was tradition, legacy. A sacred rite that marked an Alpha’s passage into full authority over his bloodline and his lands. With the council’s recognition, Ryker wouldn’t just lead our pack. He would carry a voice among the most powerful wolves in existence. This moment was everything. And nothing—not James, not even me—was going to ruin it for him. "We do it your way, but... you know Ryker cares anything about his Gshaana over you?" "I know, but I care more about him than myself right now." She was right, but I didn't want to worry my brother yet. He had been taking care of me all my life, and for once I wanted to protect him. Of course, until it was the right time to break the news. We walked side by side toward the pack house, the familiar stone-and-cedar building rising up against the mountains. The scent of pine, firewood, and sweat clung to the air, familiar, and nothing changed. As we walked, Cara glanced over at me, her voice lowering. “Ok, so, we’re telling Ryker what, exactly?” I hesitated. “Nothing. Just that I needed a break," I said with a sigh. I knew what I wanted. To hurt James back. But I didn't want anyone else to get hurt. "Okay." “For now, let's keep Ryk away from this. I don’t want to walk into another storm five seconds after I escaped one. Ryker would lose his s**t if he knew what James had done.” “Yeah,” she muttered, “Maybe that’s exactly why we should tell him. He’s your brother. And James doesn’t deserve protection.” I stopped at the bottom of the front steps, hand on the banister. “I am not protecting him, but if Ryker decides to start a war, everyone in Ashmoor will get hurt too. They had to fight for their Alpha even if they didn't want to. Just… I will deal with James. By myself.” "And Miranda," Cara said with a frown. “But if he asks me directly, I’m lying badly.” “I can live with that.” She smirked. “You always do.” The front door opened before we reached them, and my brother blinked, like he couldn't believe I was here. "Am I hallucinating? Is this my sister dearest? Do you even remember your brother?" Ryker's voice was dramatically high-pitched as he stood up from the couch, walking toward me with a bright smile. "Goddess, Key, I missed you." "I remembered you, and that's why I came. It's also your birthday in a week. Consider this your birthday present, Alpha Landon," I said with a teasing smile when he pulled him into a bear hug. He was tall, kind, funny, and the best thing that had ever happened to me. He was the best brother in the whole world. My parents died when I was nine. Ryker was only twelve, but he still took care of me like I was his own child, like he wasn't a child himself. There was nothing he wouldn't do for me. “You’re home,” he said quietly. "Oh, Key, welcome home." And something in my chest finally cracked open. I nodded into his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m home.” I almost wanted to break down and cry, but I bit back the sob. I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs with his scent. That familiar scent of home. He pulled back and studied my face. “Everything okay?” I forced a smile. “Yes, I'm fine. I am just here to celebrate my big brother's birthday. This is your twenty-seventh, and you might even meet your Luna this year. Fingers crossed.” Ryker nodded, a worried look in his eyes. "I hope she will come sooner rather than later." Fated mates, and the sacred bonds chosen by the Moon Goddess herself, were becoming more and more uncommon these days. Some elders whispered that the world had grown too noisy, too disconnected from the old ways for the Goddess to weave her will clearly. Others said that with each passing generation, wolves had grown impatient, unwilling to wait for destiny when desire was quicker and more convenient. Nobody truly understood when or why the bond would snap into place. There was no pattern, no logic. Sometimes it happened at first sight, a wild surge of heat and clarity. Other times, it struck like a thunderbolt in the middle of nowhere, unexpected and intense. But most wolves didn’t bother waiting anymore. They made their own choices. Chose mates based on love, loyalty, lust, or politics. And while those bonds could be powerful, they weren’t the same. They didn’t carry the electric thread of fate running beneath skin and soul, the unshakable knowing. But Ryker had always believed in destiny. He still held tight to the old belief that the Moon Goddess had someone chosen just for him. I admired that about him. Envied it, sometimes. He was still waiting. Still watching the moon like she might whisper her secret to him. And I hoped she would come for him. Soon. Whoever she was, I prayed she’d find him before that quiet ache became helplessness and hopelessness. "I have a meeting with my warriors. I will see you later?" Ryker asked, kissing my forehead. "Of course, go. I am not going anywhere for a while," I said, motioning him toward the door. He gave me one last look before jogging out the door. “Come on," Cara said. "Let's get you to your room." My room was on the second floor. It was where every good thing in my life happened. And the bad things, as well. I grew up here, I became who I was right here. The moment I walked in, I felt the weight in my heart drain. This looked exactly like how I left it. Seven months, and it was still my room. It was strange that James and I were together for only seven months. Thank the goddess his real face came out sooner rather than later. "Welcome home, baby." "Thank you, Cara." "You rest. If you want something, call me." "I am fine, babe. So, where are we going tonight?" I asked, leaning against the headrest. "Where do you want to go?" Cara asked, crossing her arms. "Selene's? It has been a while since I partied and got drunk-drunk. I need to get drunk," I said with a frown. Selene's was a local bar in town, and Cara and I used to go there every weekend for fun with some of the boys from the pack. "Should I invite Noah and Brian?" she asked. "I just want to be with you." Noah was Cara's mate. Noah, Brian, Cara, and I had been friends for a long time, like practically from when we were children. "No to the doofuses, then. Just us." *** The bar was loud, warm, and full of familiar faces. But the moment the alcohol kicked in, my blood hummed with a different kind of heat—one I hadn’t felt in a long time. Free. I felt free for the first time. Free and like myself. I downed glass after glass of beer and vodka until I felt like my head was spinning like a top. I laughed, smiled, and I realized I hadn't been doing much of either for a while. I always knew. Something wasn't right. I just thought it was because I missed home, and not because of James. I was wrong. It was James. He made the pack feel like a strange place. He never tried to make me feel welcome there. "This is so much fun. Fu.ck James, that d**k-less basta.rd," I shouted above the music, making a few heads turn around. Cara laughed. "Babe, I think you have had enough," she said, looping an arm through mine. “I’m not drunk,” I lied, moving to the music that filled the place. Everything felt and sounded a hundred percent more vivid, more alive. Oh, Goddess, it had only been seven months since I married James, but in those seven months, my life had significantly changed. I was only twenty-four, but I had been acting like I was two hundred and forty or something. Being a Luna was a hard job, but being a Luna to an Alpha who didn't give s**t about you... it was terrible. “You just kissed a wooden statue of the Moon Goddess,” she said dryly. “Out of respect,” I slurred. She snorted. “Come on, you disaster. Let’s get you back home.” "No, I need more vodka," I slurred, shaking my head at my best friend. "Please, Cars. I need to forget everything." "You've had enough, Key. More than enough." I rolled my eyes as she dragged me through the crowd. "Ya boring," I said with a chuckle, making her laugh. "Yeah, keep your ass moving. You'll thank me tomorrow," Cara shouted over the music, and I shrugged. I staggered behind her, too distracted by the noise and flashing lights to watch where I was going, and collided hard into someone solid and warm. Very solid. Like walking into a wall of heat and muscle. I bounced off his chest with a soft oof, and would’ve face-planted right onto the floor if not for two strong hands catching me instantly, one gripping my waist, the other steadying my arm. “Whoa there, careful.” That voice. My skin prickled. A shiver ran down my spine, slow and electric. My body reacted before my mind could catch up—tensing, trembling, remembering. Goddess. It couldn’t be. It was so strange—no, unsettling—that I recognized his voice even in this loud, chaotic place, like it had been etched into me. Deep, smooth, a little rough at the edges, like velvet over steel. I hadn't seen him or talked to him in years, and yet I knew. Rhys Thorne. My heart still stuttered like a traitor, slamming against my ribs in panic. Or something far more dangerous than panic. My throat went dry and... my breath came out in a loud gasp. I looked up, slowly, already knowing who I’d see, and forgot how to breathe. It had been four years. Four years since I last saw him. Since I’d stood in front of him, heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to escape, and kissed him, impulsive, desperate, hopeful. I was twenty, and in love with my brother's best friend... and so I kissed him. My heart was a mess, my whole body was burning. And he’d pulled away from me like I had singed him. Not cruelly. No, that would’ve been easier. He had pulled back with those unreadable eyes, like he didn’t want to hurt me but couldn’t kiss me out of some misplaced sympathy. That soft rejection had cut deeper than any harsh words ever could. And the next day, he left Stormveil without a word. My cheeks flushed hot at the memory now, the humiliation bubbling up like it had happened just yesterday. Goddess, why was that the first thing my mind had to drag out the moment I heard his voice? I fought the urge to take a step back, to bolt like the girl I used to be. But I wasn’t her anymore. I couldn’t be her anymore. No. Not even for Rhys Thorne. Still… his eyes on mine made it hard to think straight. It was like time hadn’t moved at all. Like the years apart hadn’t changed a thing, and yet everything was different. Especially me. I opened my mouth to say something. "Le-let go." His eyes narrowed. He looked as infuriating and devastating as I remembered. His dark blue eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my lungs small. Did he recognize me? Did he not? Fu.ck. Everything else around us dimmed. The music, the crowd, the world. My heart danced. I... should I run. I frantically looked around, but Cara was nowhere to be seen. I blinked up at him. "Hello there, Little Rabbit. Fancy meeting you here." ----
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