Chapter 86
(Siena’s POV)
The delicate ceremonial goblet slips from my trembling fingers, and I barely catch it before it shatters, much like my heart once did in this very place.
My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as I clutch the intricately engraved silver chalice, my chest aching fiercely.
Each item I pack carries echoes, memories humming beneath my skin like ghosts I’ve long tried to silence. This goblet was a gift from my warriors, presented proudly after I led them safely through our first major negotiation. Holding it now, I remember their faces–loyal, trusting, proud.
I remember Raiden’s quiet nod of acknowledgment, one of the rare moments he’d shown approval. Back then, I had clung to those sparse gestures like lifelines, desperately hoping they’d lead somewhere deeper.
I wrap the goblet carefully in soft cloth, forcing my emotions back behind the wall I’ve built, brick by brick. Yet the cracks are widening, memories pushing through like vines determined to reclaim abandoned ruins.
A gentle knock pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance up just as Rairity steps softly into my room. Her expression holds careful neutrality, but her pale eyes are bright with quiet curiosity.
“The duel ended early,” she blurts without preamble, her voice carefully casual.
My heart stutters traitorously, and my wolf lifts her head inside me, ears perked with instinctive interest. I force my voice into careful indifference. “Did it?”
Rairity nods, stepping further into the room. “Raiden conceded. He ended it without conclusion.”
A fluttering sensation stirs in my chest, delicate and dangerous. My wolf whimpers softly, ears flattening, confused and hopeful. I clamp down sharply on the feeling, unwilling to let myself hope again.
“I’m glad no one was hurt,” I offer calmly, keeping my eyes focused on packing.
Rairity studies me quietly, seeing more than I wish she could. She nods slowly, accepting my deliberate neutrality. “I’ll let you finish packing,” she says gently, slipping quietly back out the door.
I release a shaky breath, hands trembling slightly.
Raiden conceded–why? What stopped him?
My heart aches with questions I refuse to voice aloud, and I shake my head firmly, turning back to my new priority–the pack nursery.
As the afternoon sun casts warm amber hues across Windhowl territory, I find myself standing hesitantly outside the pack nursery, laughter and excited chatter drift through the doorway, tugging gently at my heart.
Over these past weeks, I’ve grown fond of these children. Their bright–eyed innocence and earnest smiles offer quiet comfort amidst emotional turmoil.
“Siena!” cries a chorus of familiar voices as I step inside. Small hands tug eagerly at my clothes, pulling me toward their favorite story chair.
“One last story before you leave?” asks little Ava, eyes wide and hopeful.
I smile softly, chest tightening with bittersweet affection. “One more story,” I promise gently, settling into the worn chair as they crowd eagerly around me.
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OU
Chapter 86
(Siena’s POV)
The delicate ceremonial goblet slips from my trembling fingers, and I barely catch it before it shatters, much like my heart once did in this very place.
My breath comes in short, shallow gasps as I clutch the intricately engraved silver chalice, my chest aching fiercely.
Each item I pack carries echoes, memories humming beneath my skin like ghosts I’ve long tried to silence. This goblet was a gift from my warriors, presented proudly after I led them safely through our first major negotiation. Holding it now, I remember their faces–loyal, trusting, proud.
I remember Raiden’s quiet nod of acknowledgment, one of the rare moments he’d shown approval. Back then, I had clung to those sparse gestures like lifelines, desperately hoping they’d lead somewhere deeper.
I wrap the goblet carefully in soft cloth, forcing my emotions back behind the wall I’ve built, brick by brick. Yet the cracks are widening, memories pushing through like vines determined to reclaim abandoned ruins.
A gentle knock pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance up just as Rairity steps softly into my room. Her expression holds careful neutrality, but her pale eyes are bright with quiet curiosity.
“The duel ended early,” she blurts without preamble, her voice carefully casual.
My heart stutters traitorously, and my wolf lifts her head inside me, ears perked with instinctive interest. I force my voice into careful indifference. “Did it?”
Rairity nods, stepping further into the room. “Raiden conceded. He ended it without conclusion.”
A fluttering sensation stirs in my chest, delicate and dangerous. My wolf whimpers softly, ears flattening, confused and hopeful. I clamp down sharply on the feeling, unwilling to let myself hope again.
“I’m glad no one was hurt,” I offer calmly, keeping my eyes focused on packing.
Rairity studies me quietly, seeing more than I wish she could. She nods slowly, accepting my deliberate neutrality. “I’ll let you finish packing,” she says gently, slipping quietly back out the door.
I release a shaky breath, hands trembling slightly.
Raiden conceded–why? What stopped him?
My heart aches with questions I refuse to voice aloud, and I shake my head firmly, turning back to my new priority–the pack nursery.
As the afternoon sun casts warm amber hues across Windhowl territory, I find myself standing hesitantly outside the pack nursery, laughter and excited chatter drift through the doorway, tugging gently at my heart.
Over these past weeks, I’ve grown fond of these children. Their bright–eyed innocence and earnest smiles offer quiet comfort amidst emotional turmoil.
“Siena!” cries a chorus of familiar voices as I step inside. Small hands tug eagerly at my clothes, pulling me toward their favorite story chair.
“One last story before you leave?” asks little Ava, eyes wide and hopeful.
I smile softly, chest tightening with bittersweet affection. “One more story,” I promise gently, settling into the worn chair as they crowd eagerly around me.
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Chapter 86
“And then the young wolf ventured deeper into the enchanted woods,” I read, my voice gentle and steady as the children gather closer.
Their faces are alight with happiness, eyes wide with wonder. Little Mira clutches her stuffed animal tighter, while Finn leans forward, completely captivated. For a precious moment, I forget everything else–the heartbreak, the sleepless nights, the endless questions.
“The trees whispered secrets as she passed,” I continue, turning the page of the familiar book. “Telling her of ancient magic hidden beneath-”
A faint shift in the air abruptly sharpens my senses. My voice falters mid–sentence.
The children look up questioningly. “Miss Siena?” Mira asks.
But I can barely hear her. A familiar scent curls around me–pine and midnight, wild forests beneath moonlight. My fingers freeze on the page, heart suddenly thundering in my chest.
Raiden.
My pulse quickens traitorously, and my heart stutters painfully.
My wolf rises urgently inside me, desperate and confused, ears perked toward him despite everything. Slowly, hesitantly, I glance toward the doorway.
Not now, not here.
Raiden stands silently, leaning against the doorframe, eyes fixed intently on me. His expression is unreadable, shadows flickering through his midnight gaze.
My throat tightens painfully, and I quickly turn back to the children, forcing myself to continue reading, even as my voice wavers softly.
The children cheer, jumping up excitedly. “Alpha King!” Ava calls brightly, running toward Raiden. “Did you come for story time too?”
I stiffen sharply, heart hammering as he steps fully into the room, forced closer by the children’s eagerness.
He stands mere inches from my chair, his scent wrapping around me, achingly familiar. Heat radiates from his tall frame, and my wolf whimpers softly, leaning instinctively toward him despite my fierce internal protests.
“I wanted to speak with Siena,” Raiden murmurs awkwardly, his voice rough, strained with unspoken emotion.
My gaze flickers upward reluctantly, meeting his eyes briefly before quickly dropping again. “Of course,” I reply softly, standing carefully.
Our movements bring us too close, shoulders nearly brushing. My wolf shivers sharply, electricity crackling through our damaged bond like lightning.
A small voice suddenly interrupts the tense silence. “Alpha, are you sad that Luna Siena is leaving?” Ava asks innocently, eyes wide and earnest.
Raiden freezes sharply beside me, breath hitching audibly.
My heart clenches painfully, embarrassment and sadness mixing violently within my chest. Neither of us speaks, silence stretching painfully until an urgent knock sounds at the nursery door.
“Alpha, an emergency,” calls a warrior firmly, voice urgent.
Raiden exhales sharply, relief and frustration flickering briefly across his features. “Duty calls,” he mutters quietly, turning
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abruptly. As he moves past me, his fingers brush softly, possibly accidentally, against mine.
The touch sends electric sparks jolting sharply through our bond, my skin burning fiercely where our hands meet.
Memories rush swiftly to the surface–early days spent in tentative companionship, moments of genuine connection before rejection became our painful pattern. Hot, traitorous tears prick sharply behind my eyes, and I turn away quickly, breathing ragged.
After saying quiet goodbyes to the children, I retreat swiftly to my temporary quarters, closing the door firmly behind me. Leaning heavily against the solid wood, I stare blankly into the small mirror above the dresser, breathing deeply as emotions swirl chaotically inside my chest.
The woman reflected back is different from the one who first left Windhowl years ago.
My eyes are clearer, and my posture is straighter.
Deep sadness still lingers, but beneath it lies strength–hard–won through pain, rejection, and growth. My wolf watches quietly, her gentle rumble of approval vibrating softly inside me.
“His rejection does not define me,” I whisper fiercely, meeting my own steady gaze. “I am more than someone’s mate.”
Tomorrow, I depart Windhowl again, but this time, I leave stronger, wiser, and self–defined rather than bound by Raiden’s approval or rejection.
My fingers trace absently over the ceremonial goblet, now safely packed away–a symbol of leadership, respect, and earned trust. Those things remain mine, regardless of Raiden. The children, the warriors, the friendships I’ve forged–these bonds are mine alone, independent of his validation.
Gazing once more at my reflection, I see clearly for the first time how much I’ve grown, how deeply I’ve changed. My wolf stirs softly, calm and content within my chest.
I no longer need Raiden’s acceptance–it feels good, almost intoxicating.
Tomorrow, I walk forward confidently into freedom, strength, and independence.
And tonight, beneath the gentle stars, I finally feel whole.
