#Chapter 72: The Other Side
(Siena’s POV)
The sea glitters under the sun, the waves rolling lazily toward the rocky shore.
Above it all, the whitewashed buildings cling to the cliffs like they belong there, timeless and unshaken.
it’s beautiful here–breathtaking, even–but no matter how far I travel or how much beauty surrounds me, I can’t escape the hollow ache deep inside.
Three months have passed since I walked away from everything. From Windhowl.
From Raiden.
From the bond that tied me to him for so long, even when he refused to acknowledge it.
The pain of severing that bond was unbearable at first, a sharp agony that left me breathless, like a knife twisting in my chest. But now, the pain has dulled into something quieter. It’s not gone–it will never truly be gone–but it’s manageable. The emptiness, though, is another story.
It’s vast consuming, like a part of me was carved out and left hollow.
The mate bond was always there, even when it was frayed and neglected. It was a connection
I didn’t fully understand until it was gone, until the absence of it became a constant reminder of what I lost–or maybe what I never really had.
My wolf feels it more acutely than I do. She’s been silent since the day I released Raiden, retreating deep inside me. mourning in a way I can’t allow myself to.
My wolf: “You pretend to be whole. You aren’t. We aren’t.”
Me: Tm managing just fine.”
My wolf: “Managing? Is that what humans call this slow bleeding out? This… pretending?”
I feel her stit, awakening from her self–imposed isolation
Me: “We did what was necessary. He wasn’t ours to keep.”
My wolf: “He was EXACTLY ours to keep! His scent called to us. His wolf recognized us. You felt it–the recognition that transcends your human words.”
I press my fingers against my temples, trying to quiet her
Me: “It doesn’t matter what I felt. What we felt.”
My wolf. “It’s the ONLY thing that matters! His wolf–Horace–he knew me. Knew us. Before words, before thoughts. You severed something primal when you let him walk away.”
A sharp ache blooms beneath my ribs–her pain or mine, I can’t tell anymore
Me: “We had no choice.”
My wolf: “There is always a choice. You chose safety. Chose to hide. I would have chosen differently.”
She paces within me, agitated after her long silence
My wolf: “His scent still lingers on your skin, even now. You carry it like a wound that won’t heal. I taste his name in your dreams when you finally sleep.”
Me. “Stop it‘
My wolf: “When he stood before us, his eyes held storms and promises. His wolf called to me across the space between our bodies. You felt it too–the pull of something ancient and true.”
I swallow hard against the memory
Me. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters MORE now. Each day apart is an unnatural state. We are halved without him.”
Her sorrow rises like floodwater, threatening to drown my carefully constructed composure
“I will not settle for this half–life you’ve chosen.
I don’t blame her. She lost her mate.
We both did.
will you, no matter how you try to silence me.”
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But I have to keep moving. There is no going back from this.
“It’s not meant, we must remain steadfast and move with teh great tides of the
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#Chapter 72: The Other Side
have alays done.”
She is silent now, and I do not feel her restlessness.
I do feel her sadness. it’s heavy–it scares me.
The world journey was meant to heal me, to give me space to figure out who I am without him, without the title of Luna, without the weight of trying to prove myself to someone who never wanted me.
It’s not easy. Some days, I feel like I’m making progress, like I’m learning to breathe again. Other days, the weight of everything I’ve left behind feels suffocating.
“You seem lighter today,” Elena says, pulling me from my thoughts,
She’s sitting beside me on the rocky outcrop overlooking the sea, her legs dangling over the edge. Elena has been my guide on this island, but in the weeks I’ve been here, she’s become more than that.
She’s a friend, someone who doesn’t know my past and doesn’t judge me for the pieces of myself I’m still trying to put back together.
“Lighter?” 1 echo, raising an eyebrow.
She nods, studying me with a curious, knowing expression. “Yes. Less weighed down. Like you’ve let go of something” I don’t know how to respond to that. Letting go is exactly what I’ve been trying to do, but I don’t feel lighter. If anything, I feel heavier, dragged down by the memories I can’t seem to escape.
“I don’t know about that, I say finally, my voice quieter than I intended. “But… maybe I’m learning to carry it differently.”
Elena tilts her head, considering me. “Sometimes that’s all you can do. It’s not about forgetting–it’s about making room for other things. For yourself.”
Her words linger in my mind long after she leaves.
That evening, I sit on the terrace of the small villa I’ve been renting, a glass of white wine in one hand and my tablet in the other.
The sun is setting over the sea, painting the sky in shades of orange, pink, and gold that seem almost unreal. It’s peaceful here, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like the chaos inside me is quieting, if only for a moment.
Rairity’s latest report on Windhowl is open on the tablet, her familiar thoroughness evident in every line. She’s taken to her role as Acting Alpha with a grace and strength that makes me proud, even from a distance.
Reading her updates is a bittersweet reminder of the life I left behind, but it also reassures me that Windhowl is in good hands.
Most of the report is routine–updates on pack activities, SOA preparations, alliance negotiations. But one section catches my eye, and as I read it, my heart tightens with a mix of emotions I can’t fully untangle.
“Raiden has presented evidence disproving Lila’s claims,” Rairity writes, her tone cautious even in text. “The council has formally censured her for deception. Alpha King Raiden requests an opportunity to share this evidence with you personally.” I read the words again, then again. They don’t change, but I keep hoping they will.
Vindication is the first thing I feel.
Lila’s lies have finally been exposed, her manipulations unraveled for everyone to see. The accusations she hurled at me, the humiliation she tried to inflict–it’s all been undone.
But the vindication is hollow, empty of the satisfaction I thought it might bring.
Because the truth, no matter how clear it is now, doesn’t change anything.
It doesn’t erase the years Raiden spent doubting me, rejecting me, believing the worst of me.
Lila’s lies may have been the final blow, but the cracks in our bond started long before she entered the picture.
I set the tablet down, staring out at the horizon as the sun dips lower. The ache in my chest feels sharper now, like a wound that’s been reopened, but I force myself to breathe through it.
When I pick the tablet back up, I draft a response to Rairity. The words come slowly, each one carefully chosen, each one layered with meaning I don’t fully articulate.
“Windhow! remains an ally to Silverfang in all ways,” I write, my tone formal and distant. “Personal reconciliation is unnecessary for professional cooperation. Please convey my acknowledgment of his evidence and my wish for his future happiness”
I reread the message twice before sending it, ensuring it says exactly what I want it to say. The diplomatic phrasing is deliberate, masking the truth of how I feel.
The truth is that Raiden’s realization of my worth came too late. Patterns built over ten years don’t disappear overnight, and the damage he caused can’t be undone with an apology or even prani af bila in
#Chapter 72 The Other Side
For years, I tied my value to his recognition, believing that if I could just prove myself to him, everything would fall into place. But it didn’t. And it never will.
The freedom in that realization is both terrifying and exhilarating.
For the first time in my life, I’m learning what it means to exist outside of him. Not as his Luna. Not as the rejected mate.
Just as Siena.
I set the tablet aside, leaning back in my chair as the sky deepens to a rich crimson. The stars are beginning to appear, faint pinpricks of light against the velvet darkness.
The ache in my chest is still there, and I know it always will be. But for the first time, it doesn’t feel like it defines me, It’s just a part of me, one piece of a larger whole.
I breathe in deeply, the salty air filling my lungs, and feel something shift inside me. It’s not peace–not yet. But it’s something close to it.
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