Chapter 21

POV: Ayla

“Thanks,” I mumbled, clutching the box. My fingers trembled as I stared at it, my mind racing.

It was from them. I knew it before I even opened it. My old pack had finally reached out, and whatever was inside, I could feel it—the threat, the warning, the chains tightening around me.

I forced myself to walk calmly back to the pack house. Thank the moon I didn’t see Damon; there was no way I could have hidden the turmoil twisting inside me. My legs felt like lead as I climbed the stairs to the room Damon had set up for me, even though every instinct screamed at me to run. Once inside, I pushed the door shut behind me and tore into the package, my hands fumbling with the twine and paper.

The smell hit me first. Coppery, sharp, unmistakable. My stomach twisted as I ripped the lid off, and there it was.

A lock of blonde hair—my sister’s—and a smear of blood staining the corner of the fabric it was wrapped in.

I couldn’t breathe. My heart stopped, my mind freezing like ice overtaking a lake.

My trembling fingers picked up the lock of hair, and I brought it closer to my nose. Her scent was there, faint but undeniable. My sister.

My mind spiraled. I imagined them ripping her hair from her head, slicing her skin to draw blood. My chest cracked under the weight of it. How could I have let myself forget about her?

There was a folded piece of paper tucked beneath the fabric. My hands shook as I unfolded it.

We are waiting for your reports.

The words were simple, but the meaning was clear. They had her. They had both of them—my sister and my grandfather. And they were reminding me that their lives depended on me.

A cry tore from me, raw and uncontrollable, so guttural I didn’t recognize it as my own.

I crumpled the note in my fist, clutching the box to my chest as tears burned my eyes, hot and relentless. My body folded to the floor, trembling as I rocked back and forth, the weight of my failure pressing down on me.

How had I let myself forget? How had I dared to feel safe, to feel loved, when the shadow of my past had never truly left me? My family was still paying the price for my defiance.

Damon’s smile flashed in my mind, followed by Kieran’s steady strength. I thought of how they looked at me, like I was their world. My chest ached so fiercely I thought it might split open.

I couldn’t betray them. I couldn’t.

But if I didn’t…

I don’t know how long I sat there, clutching that box, crying until my body felt hollow. I prayed it was all a nightmare, that I would wake up, but the truth remained.

My life had always been a nightmare. I had only dared to dream. And now, I was awake again.

I couldn’t lose them.

I could lose everything else, but they couldn’t die.

Wiping my tears on the sleeve of my shirt, I forced myself to stand. My legs felt weak, my chest hollow, but I moved on autopilot, shoving the box beneath my bed before grabbing my bag. Inside, hidden in the lining, was a small vial of invisible ink and a sheet of parchment.

I locked the door to my room before sitting at the desk, staring at the blank page as fresh tears fell onto it. My hand trembled as I dipped the pen into the ink.

This felt like slicing my own heart open.

I closed my eyes, trying to steel myself. I thought back to something Damon had said that morning. He’d mentioned the north border, how its geography made it vulnerable. He’d been so casual about it, trusting me completely.

And now, I would use that trust against him.

It felt like betraying myself.

The pen moved across the page, but every word felt like a dagger to my soul. Tears blurred my vision as I wrote about the upcoming training session that would leave the border even more exposed.

When I finished, I stared at the letter, my vision swimming. This was my betrayal, etched in invisible ink. My love for Damon and Kieran warred with my desperation to protect my family. The bond I shared with my mates burned in my chest, a constant reminder of what I was destroying.

I didn’t deserve them.

But I had no choice.

I folded the letter carefully, sealing it before slipping out of the pack house. The post office was almost empty when I arrived, and I slid the letter into the designated slot without hesitation. My heart shattered as the envelope disappeared, the weight of my actions crashing down on me.

“You are luck, we were just finishing packing the letters, yours will be sent right now,” The officer said with a smile and I forced myself to smile back and thanked him.

Lucky?

I didn’t go to the barracks. I didn’t go to them. I couldn’t.

Instead, I ran into the forest. I stripped off my clothes, letting my wolf take over. She surged forward, desperate for freedom, for escape.

The cool night air bit at my fur as I sprinted through the trees, my paws pounding against the earth. The wind carried away my tears, but it couldn’t touch the ache in my chest.

I ran until my legs burned, until the trees blurred into nothing, until the pain inside me was a roar that drowned out everything else. But no matter how far I went, I couldn’t escape the truth.

My past wasn’t just haunting me. It was claiming me.

And no amount of running could ever change that.

The forest had always been a refuge, a place where I could lose myself in the stillness of the trees and the rhythm of my wolf’s stride. But tonight, even that couldn’t quiet the storm raging inside me. My paws dragged as I made my way back, exhaustion weighing down my limbs and soul.

By the time I shifted back, the chill of the night air nipped at my skin, making me shiver.I grabbed one of the robes we always kept near the forest for wolves returning from their shifts, wrapping it tightly around myself as I trudged toward the pack house. My mind was a storm of guilt, fear, and the raw ache of betrayal—both mine and theirs.

I reached my room and opened the door, expecting silence and solitude, but I froze in my tracks.

The dim light of the room was replaced by a warm glow, and the faint scent of freshly baked bread wafted toward me. Damon and Kieran stood in the center of the room, a table between them adorned with a small feast—roasted meat, a loaf of bread, and a pitcher of wine.

Kieran was the first to notice me, his sharp green eyes softening. “There she is,” he said with a grin. “We were starting to think you’d gotten lost out there.”

Damon stepped forward, his gaze scanning me with quiet intensity. His voice was calm, steady. “You looked… distant earlier. We thought you could use some company.”

My throat tightened, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. The weight of their concern, their care, was suffocating in the best and worst ways.

“You didn’t have to—”

“We wanted to,” Damon cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Sit. Eat. You’ve had a long day.”

Kieran moved to pull out a chair, his usual smirk softening into something more genuine. “Let us take care of you for once.”

I hesitated, my feet rooted to the floor. The lock of hair, the blood, the letter—they all seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the warmth of their presence.

Slowly, I made my way to the table, lowering myself into the chair Kieran offered. He poured a glass of wine for me, his fingers brushing mine as he handed it over.

Damon took the seat beside me, his hand resting briefly on my knee—a grounding touch, steady and firm. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “Just be here.”

I swallowed hard, my heart aching at their unspoken understanding. I didn’t deserve this. Not their kindness, not their love. But for now, I allowed myself to take a piece of bread, the simple act grounding me in the moment.

The evening unfolded in quiet ease, their voices filling the space as they bantered about pack matters and shared old stories. Kieran’s humor brought a tentative smile to my lips, and Damon’s quiet strength was a balm to my fractured spirit.

For a little while, the storm inside me quieted. For a little while, I let myself believe that everything would be okay.

The meal had settled into an easy rhythm, my initial tension giving way to quiet comfort as I listened to Damon and Kieran exchange stories. Their voices were a soothing balm to my raw nerves, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.

We’d eaten most of the food when Damon leaned back in his chair, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. His expression was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper.

“Ayla,” he started, his voice measured, “Kieran and I talked earlier.”

Heat rose to my cheeks instantly, my heart thudding loudly in my chest. “About me?” I asked, the words coming out softer than I intended.

Kieran leaned forward, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Of course about you. You’re our mate, Ayla. And we needed to discuss what that means for all of us.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of the way their eyes lingered on me. My cheeks burned at the thought of them sitting together, talking about me, about us.

Damon’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “We talked about the mating bond. Specifically, the marking.”

Chapter 22

POV: Ayla

My breath caught, and my pulse quickened as Damon continued.

“With two mates,” Kieran explained, his tone steady, “your bond is unique. The council’s records suggest that for your safety, the marks should happen at the same time. Otherwise, the incomplete bond could leave your wolf in turmoil, desperate for balance.”

Damon nodded, his gaze steady on mine. “The case I mentioned where the bond worked—both mates marked her simultaneously. It ensured the bond was stable. And, Ayla, all we care about is keeping you safe.”

The weight of their words settled over me, and a nervous flutter bloomed in my chest. My mind raced with conflicting emotions—fear, desire, and the undeniable craving that pulsed in my veins at the mere thought of marking and being marked.

The bond inside me stirred, urging me toward them, the thought of their marks igniting a heat low in my belly. But then my stomach dropped as the reality of what that would mean crashed into me. The moment they marked me, our thoughts would merge. The mind link would expose everything—including the truth I’d been hiding.

My hands curled into fists on my lap, my pulse thundering in my ears.

“Ayla?” Damon’s voice was gentle, pulling me from my thoughts. His hand rested on my knee, his touch grounding. “You don’t have to be nervous. You’ve been through so much already. We’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Kieran’s hand covered mine on the table, his warmth steady and reassuring. “There’s no rush. The bond is strong as it is. When you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

Their words should have calmed me, but the feel of Damon’s hand sliding higher on my leg shattered any semblance of composure. His fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, sending shivers racing up my spine.

I bit my lip, my breath catching. My body betrayed me, heat pooling low in my core as desire overrode every thought.

“I can smell your excitement, honey,” Damon murmured, his voice husky and teasing.

The sound of his words, paired with his touch, sent a rush of need through me. My thighs pressed together instinctively, but Damon’s hand was already there, coaxing me open.

Before I could process the whirlwind of sensations, Kieran’s lips were on mine, his fingers tangling in my hair. His kiss was slow and consuming, his other hand sliding to my neck, holding me in place as he deepened it.

I gasped against his mouth as Damon’s fingers edged higher, brushing just close enough to send sparks through my body. Kieran’s hand slipped lower, loosening the tie of my robe until it fell slightly open. His palm cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, and a moan escaped me, muffled against his lips.

Damon’s lips replaced his hand, trailing kisses up my thigh until his tongue flicked over my clit. A sharp cry left me, my back arching as pleasure surged through me.

Kieran broke the kiss, his lips moving to my exposed breast, his mouth warm as he took my nipple between his lips. The combination of their touches was overwhelming, a symphony of sensation that left me trembling.

The pleasure built quickly, my body responding to their every touch, their every kiss. And then it hit me—the orgasm crashed over me like a wave, my body arching and contracting under their hands and mouths.

My canines descended instinctively, the primal urge to mark them surging forward, demanding release.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, covering my mouth with trembling fingers, my voice unsteady as I fought to hold on to the last shred of control.

Damon’s lips trailed back up, pressing a lingering kiss to my abdomen. His touch was warm and grounding, a stark contrast to the storm inside me. Kieran pulled back slightly, his hand cradling my cheek as his green eyes searched mine, his expression soft and unwavering.

“It’s okay, honey,” Kieran said gently, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “You’re safe with us.”

Damon scooped me into his arms, carrying me to the bed as if I weighed nothing. He laid me down gently, Kieran settling beside me on one side while Damon took the other.

They held me close, their warmth surrounding me as my breathing slowed. The storm in my mind quieted, and for a moment, I allowed myself to just feel.

As I drifted off, sandwiched between my mates, I tried to push aside the looming shadows of my secret. But even in their arms, the weight of what I’d done lingered, a reminder that this fleeting moment of peace couldn’t last.

The night was quiet, peaceful even, as I drifted between sleep and wakefulness, cradled between Damon and Kieran. Their warmth was a comfort I didn’t realize I’d craved so deeply.

But the peace shattered in an instant.

It was almost morning when a blaring siren pierced the air, followed by the sharp, incessant buzz of cell phones. Damon and Kieran stirred immediately, their movements swift and practiced. My heart thundered in my chest as I sat up, watching them.

“What’s happening?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep as I tried to make sense of the chaos.

Neither answered at first. Damon was already slipping into his pants, his shirt hastily thrown over his shoulders, the buttons still undone. Kieran pulled on his uniform with precision, every movement screaming urgency.

“We’re under attack,” Damon said, his voice grim and low.

The words hit me like a blow to the chest. My breath hitched, and for a moment, I froze. No. Not now.

I scrambled out of bed, fumbling for one of mine uniforms. My hands trembled as I tugged it over my body, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “Wait! I’m coming with you,” I said, my voice trembling with determination.

But before I could move, Kieran stepped forward, his hand firm against my chest, stopping me in my tracks. His green eyes bore into mine, filled with resolve and something else—something that made my stomach twist.

“No, Ayla,” he said firmly. “You’re not a guard anymore. You’re the future Luna. Your place is here, staying safe.”

My heart clenched at his words. “Kieran, I can help—”

Damon stepped closer, his blue eyes softening as he reached for my hand. “Ayla, please,” he said, his tone quieter but no less commanding. “Stay here. For us.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The desperation in their eyes tore me apart. They wanted to protect me, to shield me from whatever was coming.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay behind while they faced danger.

Damon leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that was both tender and urgent, a silent plea etched into every movement. Kieran’s lips followed, pressing against my forehead, lingering just long enough to leave me aching for more.

Then they were gone.

The door shut behind them, and the room felt empty, hollow. I stood there, frozen, my pulse pounding in my ears as their absence left an ache in my chest.

But I couldn’t stay here.

I moved quickly, ripping off the robe and pulling my uniform back on. The fabric was familiar, grounding me as I tied the laces on my boots with trembling hands. My mind was a storm of emotions—fear, anger, and guilt warring with each other.

I grabbed my weapons from the small chest in the corner, strapping them to my body with practiced ease, and I took the lock of my sister’s hair and put it inside my pockets, something inside me told me I needed this, even if were to remind me who I was saving.

My mates wanted me safe, but I couldn’t let them face this alone.

Not when I knew what this attack meant.

Not when I knew who was behind it.

Slipping out of the room, I moved through the darkened hallways, my footsteps light and silent. My wolf stirred within me, urging me forward, her instincts sharpening my focus.

The air outside was thick with tension, the sounds of shouts and movement filling the night. I pushed through the chaos, my uniform blending me into the sea of guards as I joined the fray, my heart pounding with every step.

I wasn’t just fighting for the pack.

I was fighting for them—Damon and Kieran.

And for the chance to make things right.

The barracks were alive with chaos, shouts and hurried footsteps echoing through the halls as I pushed my way inside. My heart thundered in my chest, but I didn’t let myself falter. Not now.

When I reached the meeting room, the door was ajar, and I could already hear a guard speaking urgently to Damon, Kieran and all the leaders of the Pack and the guard that were also there. Their voices were sharp, clipped as they listened to the report.

I stepped inside, my boots barely making a sound on the stone floor, but Damon’s gaze flicked to me immediately. His piercing blue eyes burned through me before turning back to the guard.

I swallowed hard, moving to the edge of the room, trying to steady my breath.

“The attack is from SilverMoon pack,” the guard said, his voice tight with urgency.

The words hit me like a thunderclap. My vision blurred, and my chest tightened, a wave of panic threatening to drown me.

“No,” I whispered under my breath, too soft for anyone to hear. My legs felt like they were made of lead, my body locked in place.

“They’re entering through the North border,” the guard continued, “exactly where the terrain makes defense the weakest. We’re having difficulty containing them, Alpha. It’s almost as if—” He hesitated, his voice dropping. “It must have come from inside information.”

The air in the room grew suffocating. Damon’s jaw tightened, his shoulders rigid as he turned toward me. His blue eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the room spun.

I felt the floor leaving my feet.

He knew.

Chapter 23

POV: Ayla

I felt it, the realization settling over him, the betrayal washing through every fiber of his being. His anger hit me like a physical force, and I swore I could feel the heat of it searing my skin.

And then came the anger I directed at myself. The guilt, the shame.

I hated myself for this. For betraying them. For betraying him.

I hated that I’d been forced into this, that I’d let it come to this, that my family’s safety had cost me so much more than I could bear. My chest ached, and my throat tightened, but it wasn’t just Damon’s fury I felt. It was my own rage and helplessness clawing their way out of me.

I didn’t want this. Not any of it.

“Out of here. Now,” Damon said, his voice low, laced with a quiet, terrifying fury.

The words tore through me, ripping apart the fragile bond I had held so tightly to. His voice—always gentle, always steady—was now a blade cutting me down.

And it hurt. It hurt in a way that felt physical, like I was being carved open.

Damon was the gentleman. He was the one who always put me above himself, who held me when I doubted my worth, who worshipped me with his touch. And now… I had betrayed him.

I had destroyed everything.

I wished for nothing more than to take it all back, to rewind time just a few hours, back to the warmth of their arms, their kisses, their love.

I couldn’t move. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor, trembling as the weight of everything crushed me.

“No,” I croaked, my voice barely audible. Tears streamed down my face, my body wracked with sobs.

Damon stepped forward, his voice rising to a roar. “Someone take her out of here, now!”

His lips—the lips that had worshipped me, that had given me so many kisses, so much pleasure—now cursed me, and demanded I leave.

I looked desperately to Kieran, hoping for some semblance of understanding, for anything.

But his green eyes, once so full of mischief and warmth, were unreadable. His face was carved into stone, his silence deafening.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stared at me.

And I couldn’t judge him.

I had betrayed him too.

His guard.

His pack.

My mate.

My mates.

The silence stretched, suffocating me as the weight of their disappointment, their anger, their hurt settled on my chest like a boulder.

No one dared to touch me. The leaders and top guards were there, all of them silent, their gazes flitting between their furious Alpha and me, the traitor.

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on.

“Take her out!” Damon bellowed again, the sound echoing off the walls and inside me, like a whip crack.

And just like that, my world crumbled. Everything I’d held on to, every fragile hope I’d clung to—shattered.

Strong hands gripped my arms, pulling me up and out of the room. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t.

I couldn’t even lift my head to see who was guiding me, but the scent gave him away. Levi.

My body felt limp and unresponsive, and by the time I realized where we were, I was already sitting on the bed in my old dorm.

Levi said nothing. He stood there, silent.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I whispered, my voice breaking, pleading with him to understand.

But Levi didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me.

He turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone, I collapsed into the bed, curling into myself as sobs wracked my body. My tears soaked the pillow as I gasped for air, my chest heaving with every broken sob.

I don’t know how much time I spend there, crying and wishing it was all a nightmare.

I thought of Damon, his furious voice ringing in my ears. I thought of Kieran, his silent, piercing gaze cutting through me like a blade.

They were my mates. My home. My future.

And I had destroyed it all.

But no matter how much I hated myself, no matter how much I wished I could undo it all, I couldn’t leave it like this.

They had to understand.

They had to.

A deep silence clung to the air as I stood outside the meeting room doors, my heart pounding loud enough to drown out my thoughts. I knew they were in there—Kieran and Damon. My mates. My judges. My executioners.

I clenched my fists, the lock of my sister’s hair digging into my palm. The familiar scent of her, faint and laced with blood, sent a sharp pang through my chest. The time for wallowing in guilt was over. If I didn’t speak now, if I didn’t force them to hear me, then I would lose everything.

The guards stationed outside didn’t move, their gazes wary but respectful as I stepped forward. They didn’t dare to stop me—not after everything.

The heavy wooden doors creaked as I pushed them open. The room fell silent, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

Damon was seated at the head of the table, his expression cold, his shoulders rigid. Kieran stood beside him, his green eyes flicking to me with a mixture of surprise and caution. Around the table, the leaders of the pack turned their heads toward me, their conversations forgotten.

“What are you doing here?” Damon’s voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. His tone was laced with a pain that made my stomach churn.

“Get out,” he demanded, his tone colder now, his blue eyes narrowed in fury.

“No,” I said, my voice firm, though my hands trembled slightly at my sides. “I’m not leaving. Not until I’ve said what I need to say.”

“You’ve said enough,” Damon growled, his hands clenching into fists on the table.

“Please,” I pleaded, my voice softening. “Just two minutes. That’s all I’m asking. After that, I’ll leave. Forever, if that’s what you want.”

Damon’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking as his fury simmered beneath the surface. He waved a hand abruptly, his voice sharp. “Out. All of you. Now.”

The leaders hesitated, glancing at each other, but no one defied their Alpha. Chairs scraped against the floor as they filed out, casting curious and pitying looks my way.

Only Kieran stayed.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. His green eyes stayed locked on me, unreadable.

The doors closed behind the last of them, leaving only the three of us.

I took a deep breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I never wanted this,” I began, my voice trembling but growing steadier with each word. “I didn’t choose this. It was forced on me.”

Damon’s icy glare didn’t waver, but the flicker of something—pain, maybe—flashed in his eyes.

“I was the best soldier in my pack,” I continued. “The best fighter. The best strategist. That’s why they chose me.”

I reached for the hem of my uniform jacket, my hands trembling as I began to undo the buttons.

Kieran’s voice broke the silence. “Ayla,” he said softly, a warning.

But I didn’t stop. I shrugged off the jacket and let it fall to the floor, leaving me in my undershirt.

“They tortured me,” I said, my voice cracking as I reached for the buttons on my sleeves. “When I refused, they broke me. Over and over again, until I couldn’t even scream, until this pain became part of me.”

The sleeves fell away, exposing the long, jagged silver scars that crisscrossed my arms and shoulders. I heard Kieran inhale sharply, and Damon’s eyes narrowed, his anger faltering for the briefest moment.

I turned, pulling the undershirt over my head to reveal my back where the worst silver scars were. The room felt colder, the air heavier.

“They did this to me,” I said, my voice breaking. “And when it wasn’t enough when after all this I didn’t accept their plan, they took my sister and my grandfather. They sent me this—” I held up the lock of my sister’s hair, my hand shaking as I placed it on the table.

Damon’s eyes dropped to the hair, his face hardening further.

“My first report was complete,” I admitted, my throat tightening. “But then… I saw how different you were. How kind this pack was. How it felt like… like home.” My voice cracked, tears slipping down my face. “Because of you. Because of Kieran. Because of Damon.”

I turned to them, desperation in my eyes. “So I started sending confusing reports. Deliberately misleading them. I thought I could keep you safe. I thought I could keep them safe. But then…” My voice faltered as I swallowed hard. “When the mate bond was revealed, I stop to send any reports at all, but then last afternoon they sent me this, my sister’s hair with her blood and a note asking for information.” I gestured to the lock of hair again.

“And I didn’t know what to do. I fell apart, I told them about the North border, just to keep my sister safe. I was going to leave last night, but then you made that dinner for me. You made me feel like I belonged like I could have something good—something real.”

My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, my head bowed. “I hate myself for what I’ve done. I hate that I betrayed you. I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. Kill me, imprison me, whatever you think is fair. But please… please don’t send me back there. I’ll die before I go back.”

The silence was deafening, broken only by my shaky breaths.

“If I don’t return, maybe… maybe they’ll let my family go. That’s all I want. For them to be free, to be safe”

I lifted my head, tears streaming down my face, as I looked at them. “Do whatever you want to me. Just don’t send me back.”

Damon’s face was unreadable now, his fury tempered by something darker—something that mirrored the hollow ache in my chest.

Kieran’s eyes softened for the briefest moment before he looked away, his jaw tightening.

And I waited.

Waited for their judgment.

Chapter 24

POV: Damon

I couldn’t believe it.

Ayla was the spark of joy I had been waiting for all my life. I couldn’t breathe when I felt my wolf stir at the Moon Ball, and when I saw her—brave, determined, and stunning—it was as if the world stopped spinning.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her from that moment. The shy soldier who stood so proudly at the ceremony, her head high despite the overwhelming crowd. Ayla was everything I never dared to hope for. She was my Luna. Fierce, a warrior, independent, beautiful, and wonderfully challenging.

And she was mine.

The first time I kissed her, the first time I held her in my arms, I felt like I had found my paradise. After years of agonizing over finding my mate, feeling the pressure from the pack, and my own gnawing loneliness, Ayla was a gift. She was my peace, my fire, my everything.

Even when I discovered that Kieran was also her mate, and the initial fear of sharing her clawed at me, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: she was worth it. For her, I’d do anything. I would share her. I would let go of every piece of pride and selfishness if it meant keeping her safe, happy, and loved.

But now, as I stood in the barracks, surrounded by the chaos of an attack, it felt like the universe had been ripped from my hands.

When the first information of the attack came in, my only thought was of Ayla’s safety. Relief flooded through me when Kieran insisted she stay behind.

But at the barracks, as the guard told his report, and as I pieced together the details of the attack—Silver Moon. North border. The very weaknesses I had shared with Ayla that morning—an icy dread filled my chest.

Then Ayla entered the room.

The moment her eyes met mine, I knew.

She didn’t even have to speak. The look on her face—the guilt pouring from her, the tears welling in her eyes—told me everything.

She betrayed us.

My mate. My Luna. The woman I had given my heart to, the woman I would have done anything for.

A traitor.

The words felt like poison in my veins. My chest felt hollow, like my ribs had been cracked open, exposing the raw, pulsing pain of my heart. Anger surged through me, sharp and unforgiving, but underneath it was something far worse: devastation.

I wanted to hate her. I wanted to scream at her, to demand how she could do this to me, to Kieran, to our pack. But my heart refused to listen. My wolf refused to listen.

She’s ours, my wolf growled, desperate to protect her even now.

I yelled for someone to take her out. Her presence was unbearable. Every time I looked at her, I saw the woman I loved. The woman I wanted to spend my life with. But the reality of her betrayal was like a blade lodged in my chest, twisting with every beat of my heart.

Levi dragged her away, and I forced myself to breathe. My body screamed to follow her, to demand an explanation, to hold her and tell her this couldn’t be real. But my mind held firm. Ayla was the reason Silver Moon had attacked us. She had betrayed us, and I couldn’t look at her without feeling the weight of it crushing me.

The boardroom felt suffocating. The air was thick with tension as the leaders waited for me to speak, but I couldn’t find the words. How could I tell them that the woman I loved had been feeding information to our enemies?

Before I could begin, the door burst open.

Ayla stood there, her uniform still disheveled, her face pale but determined.

My blood boiled. How could she stand there, in front of the pack leaders, and demand anything?

“What are you doing here?” I said, but my voice held a tone laced with a pain that made me almost choke.

“Get out,” I snapped, my voice cold and hard.

“No,” she said, her voice trembling but strong. “I’m not leaving. Not until I’ve said what I need to say.”

“You’ve said enough,” I growled, my hands clenching into fists on the table.

But Ayla didn’t move. She stood her ground, her chin raised, her eyes defiant even as tears threatened to spill.

“Please,” she said, her voice softening. “Just two minutes. That’s all I’m asking. After that, I’ll leave. Forever, if that’s what you want.”

I waved a hand abruptly, my voice sharp. But the movement was more my wolf than myself. “Out. All of you. Now.” Against every instinct, I ordered the room to clear. Kieran stayed by my side, his expression unreadable, as Ayla stepped forward and began to speak.

She told us everything.

Her voice cracked as she explained how Silver Moon had chosen her because she was the best. The best soldier. The fiercest. The most loyal. She spoke of the torture, how they had tried to break her, and when that failed, how they had kidnapped her sister and her grandfather.

Her hands shook as she pulled a lock of hair from her pocket, her fingers brushing it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“They sent me this,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Then, piece by piece, she stripped off her uniform.

Kieran called her name, a warning in his voice, but Ayla ignored him. She peeled away the layers, revealing the silver scars etched into her skin. My stomach turned at the sight of them—ugly, jagged lines that told a story of pain I couldn’t fathom.

She had hidden them from us, always wearing sleeves, always covering her back. And now I understood why.

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, each one pulling me further into the storm of her pain.

“My first report was complete,” she admitted, her voice strained and fragile. My chest tightened as I watched her struggle to speak. “But then… I saw how different you were. How kind this pack was. How it felt like… like home.” Her voice cracked, tears spilling down her face, each drop a dagger to my heart.

She looked at me, then at Kieran, desperation flickering in her eyes. “Because of you. Because of Kieran. Because of Damon.” My name on her lips wasn’t soft or loving like I’d dreamed it would be. It was raw, broken, a plea that made me want to destroy whatever had hurt her.

“So I started sending confusing reports,” she confessed, the weight of her guilt pouring out in waves. “Deliberately misleading them. I thought I could keep you safe. I thought I could keep them safe. But then…” She faltered, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. “When the mate bond was revealed, I stopped sending any reports at all. But then, last afternoon, they sent me this.”

She gestured to the lock of hair she’d shown us earlier, her hands trembling. The scent of blood lingered in the air, faint but sickening. Her sister’s blood. My wolf growled inside me, a primal urge to protect her and destroy whoever had dared hurt her family rising to the surface.

“And I didn’t know what to do,” she whispered, her voice barely audible now. “I fell apart. I told them about the North border, just to keep my sister safe. I was going to leave last night, but then you made that dinner for me.” Her gaze met mine, and the vulnerability in her eyes was like a knife to my soul. “You made me feel like I belonged. Like I could have something good—something real.”

Then she crumbled, her knees giving out as she sank to the floor. My instincts screamed at me to go to her, to pull her into my arms, but I couldn’t move. Her head bowed, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“I hate myself for what I’ve done,” she choked out. “I hate that I betrayed you. I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. Kill me, imprison me, whatever you think is fair. But please… please don’t send me back there. I’ll die before I go back.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Even Kieran, always steady, seemed lost for words. My fists clenched at my sides, my wolf pacing restlessly within me. Her broken breaths filled the room, each one a reminder of how much she’d endured, how much she’d sacrificed.

“If I don’t return,” she said finally, her voice a threadbare whisper, “maybe… maybe they’ll let my family go. That’s all I want. For them to be free, to be safe.”

I couldn’t speak.

Her words echoed in my mind, crashing against the walls I had built to protect myself. My wolf howled in agony, torn between the urge to comfort her and the weight of what she had done.

Ayla. My mate. My traitor.

I looked at Kieran, but his expression gave nothing away.

I turned back to Ayla, her broken form trembling on the floor, and all I could feel was the war raging inside me.

I didn’t know if I could forgive her. But I didn’t know if I could live without her, either.

Chapter 25

POV: Kieran

I was trained to keep my emotions in check. A warrior’s strength lies not in passion but in control. Every decision, every strike, every moment must be calculated, deliberate.

But as I sat in that boardroom, watching Ayla strip away every layer of armor—both her uniform and her lies—I felt my control slipping.

She was a spy.

The word felt foreign in connection to her. Ayla, the woman I had sparred with, laughed with, and shared quiet moments of unspoken understanding. The mate the Goddess had given me.

I thought back to the moment I first saw her, standing in the Trophy Room with her arms crossed, examining the collection of weapons as if she were judging their worth. There was nothing timid about her. She was fierce, unapologetically so, and when she turned to me, her words were bold, cutting right to the heart of my pride.

“These weapons might look impressive, but they wouldn’t hold up in a real fight,” she said, her tone casual, as if she didn’t realize—or care—that she was speaking to the head of the guard.

I didn’t correct her. I didn’t have the words. All I could do was watch as she ran her fingers over a blade, her eyes critical but curious.

I didn’t understand it at the time, but I fell for her right there.

When the mate bond hit, it was like being thrown into a storm. I was a man who relied on discipline and reason, yet the pull to her was anything but rational. She unsettled me in ways no one ever had, and I liked it.

Then came Damon.

I wasn’t prepared to share her. Hell, no one would be. But the bond wasn’t something I could fight. She was ours, and I knew deep down Damon and I would move mountains for her if it meant keeping her safe.

The bond was a constant presence, a pull that was both exhilarating and suffocating. Every time Ayla walked into the room, my wolf stirred, growling in satisfaction at the sight of her. She was everything I hadn’t known I was missing, everything I couldn’t lose. And yet, there was Damon the Alpha, my Alpha to her in the same way.

Sharing her wasn’t something I’d ever imagined. The mate bond was supposed to be singular, absolute. But Ayla wasn’t like anyone else, and the bond wasn’t something we could control. It burned brighter, stronger, because it wasn’t just mine. It was ours. And the truth was, I didn’t hate it.

I leaned against the wall of Damon’s office, watching him pace. His jaw was tight, his movements restless, but I could feel the same turmoil in him that I felt within myself. The mate bond didn’t just connect us to Ayla; it connected us to each other in a way that was new, uncharted.

“She’s decided,” Damon said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was low, steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of emotion. “She wants us both.”

The words sent a wave of heat through me, and my wolf growled in approval. Ayla had made her choice, and there was no room for argument. Not that I wanted to argue. The thought of walking away from her, of leaving her to Damon alone it wasn’t an option.

I nodded, keeping my gaze fixed on him. “Then we’ll do it her way.”

Damon stopped pacing and looked at me, his green eyes sharp. “It’s not just about agreeing to share her. The bond it needs to be sealed. Properly.”

My chest tightened. I knew what he was getting at, but the words still felt heavy. “You mean we mark her. Together.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “If we don’t, the bond will stay unstable. It’ll keep pulling at her, at us. She needs the stability and so do we.”

The idea of marking her, of sinking my teeth into her skin, was primal and consuming. But doing it with Damon? It was unorthodox, unheard of. And yet, the bond demanded it. Ayla demanded it.

I let out a slow breath, pushing past the unease. “She said she loves us both. If this is what it takes to protect her, to give her what she needs, then we do it.”

Damon’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it was tinged with something deeper. “She’s stronger than both of us combined. If this is what she wants, then we make it happen.”

I felt a flicker of something close to relief. Ayla’s determination had left no room for doubt or hesitation. She wanted us both, and despite the chaos of it all, I couldn’t deny that it felt right. Together, we’d make her ours. Together, we’d give her everything.

But now, as she knelt before us, her scars gleaming under the dim light, I wondered if I had been wrong about everything.

When I first heard about the attack, my thoughts went to her.

I told myself it was because she was a soldier under my command, but that was a lie. The bond burned in my chest, a constant reminder that she was more than just another soldier. She was Ayla—my mate.

I sent her to stay behind, reasoning it was the safest place for her. The battle on the northern border was brutal, and I couldn’t risk her being there. Damon was quiet when I insisted, but I knew he agreed. Protecting Ayla was instinctual for us both.

Then she walked into the meeting room.

But the moment I heard “Silver Moon,” dread sank its claws into me.

I’ve faced countless enemies on the battlefield, looked into their eyes as they realized I was their end. But nothing prepared me for the look in Ayla’s eyes. It wasn’t fear or defiance—it was guilt.

The pieces fell into place before the report was even finished. She’d been feeding them information.

I should have seen it.

I, Kieran Reddick, head of the guard, missed a traitor under my watch.

Worse, I missed that the traitor was the woman I loved.

I wanted to demand answers, to force her to explain how she could do this. But I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Damon’s fury filled the room, sharp and blinding, and all I could do was stand there, silent and paralyzed.

When Levi escorted her out, I felt a strange emptiness. My rational mind told me this was for the best. She’d broken our trust, betrayed the pack. She was dangerous. But another part of me—the part tied to her through the mate bond—fought against the logic.

And then she walked into the meeting again.

I was on edge, waiting for Damon to say the words I knew he couldn’t bring himself to say. But before he could even begin, she was there, standing before us with defiance and desperation written all over her face.

She asked for two minutes. Just two minutes to explain herself.

I expected Damon to throw her out again, but he didn’t. He ordered the others to leave, and when the door closed, Ayla began to speak.

Her voice was steady at first, her words measured. She told us about Silver Moon choosing her as a spy because she was the best soldier in her pack. I felt a bitter pride hearing that—of course, she was the best. Ayla never did anything halfway.

But as she spoke about the torture, her voice wavered. And when she began unbuttoning her uniform, my breath caught.

I had seen her arms, her back, hundreds of times, but always covered. Always hidden. I thought it was modesty or perhaps habit, but as the scars came into view, I realized the truth.

They weren’t just scars. They were evidence of pain, of brutality I couldn’t imagine. Silver scars, the kind that don’t heal easily for wolves. She had endured this, survived this, and never said a word.

Ayla was fearless on the battlefield, quick-witted in conversation, and determined in everything she did. But now, kneeling before us, she looked fragile. Breakable.

Her voice cracked as she told us about her family—her sister and grandfather. She pulled out a lock of hair, her hands trembling. The scent hit me immediately: blood.

I clenched my fists, torn between anger and guilt.

She described how she had sent detailed reports in the beginning, hoping it would save her family. How she started sending confusing information once she grew attached to the pack. How she stopped sending anything altogether when she couldn’t bring herself to betray us anymore.

And now Silver Moon had retaliated.

I wanted to believe her.

Every instinct in me screamed that she was telling the truth. The bond hummed between us, urging me to protect her, to pull her into my arms and swear that nothing else mattered.

But I wasn’t just her mate. I was the head of the guard, the protector of this pack. My duty was to my people, and Ayla had betrayed them.

Could I trust her again? Could I forgive her?

I glanced at Damon, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable. I could feel the war raging within him because I was fighting the same battle.

Ayla knelt before us, her head bowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I hate myself for what I’ve done,” she choked out. “I hate that I betrayed you. I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. Kill me, imprison me, whatever you think is fair. But please… please don’t send me back there. I’ll die before I go back.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

I had spent my life relying on logic, on clear decisions, on the certainty of right and wrong. But now, nothing was clear.

All I knew was that Ayla’s truth had changed everything—and I didn’t know if I could forgive her.

Chapter 26

POV: Ayla

I knelt on the cold, hard floor, my breath hitching between sobs I couldn’t contain. The silence in the room was unbearable, heavy with their judgment. Damon and Kieran stood a few feet away, watching me as if I were a stranger. I had stripped away everything—my uniform, my pride, my secrets—and laid it bare before them.

But it wasn’t enough.

Damon’s icy gaze pierced through me, unrelenting and full of anger. His arms were rigid at his sides, his fists clenched so tightly I could see the tension in his knuckles. Kieran stood beside him, his expression a painful mix of anguish and doubt, but there was something softer there, something that almost looked like hope.

“I…” My voice cracked as I tried to speak, but the words felt like shards of glass in my throat. “I never wanted this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Damon didn’t even blink.

Tears streamed down my face, my hands pressing into the floor to keep myself steady. “I didn’t have a choice!” I cried, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “They took my sister—she’s only fifteen—and my grandfather. They told me if I didn’t give them what they wanted, they’d kill them.”

Kieran’s lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak. Damon remained unmoved, his jaw ticking as he turned his head slightly, as though the sight of me disgusted him.

Still, silence.

I doubled over, gripping the floor as if it could somehow stop me from shattering completely. “You can hate me,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I deserve it. I lied to you. I betrayed you. I let you trust me when I knew I didn’t deserve it. But the most painful thing I ever did was writing that report about the border, and you saw how tortured I was, writing that was worst then the torture.”

Damon moved then, taking a single step forward, his expression cold and unyielding. “You think that excuses what you did?” His voice was low, dangerous. “You think our pain is less because you were hurting when you handed us over to them?”

I flinched at his words, each one striking like a blow.

“I didn’t know what else to do!” I shouted, my voice rising with desperation. “I love this pack. I love—” The words caught in my throat, my heart hammering at the admission I couldn’t finish.

“Don’t.” Damon’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Don’t you dare say that. You don’t get to claim love, Ayla. Not after this.”

Kieran stepped forward, his hand almost reaching for me before he stopped himself. His voice, though softer than Damon’s, carried just as much weight. “Ayla… why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you trust us enough to come forward?”

I lifted my tear-streaked face to meet his gaze. “Because I was afraid,” I said, my voice trembling. “I was afraid you’d send me away, or worse… and then they’d kill my family anyway. I didn’t trust anyone. I didn’t even trust myself.”

Kieran exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “Damon…”

Damon turned away from me, his shoulders stiff, his head bowed. “Don’t, Kieran,” he snapped. “She betrayed us. She betrayed me. And now she’s asking us to trust her again?”

“I’m not asking you to trust me,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “I know I’ve lost that. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove my loyalty. If you want me to fight, I’ll fight. If you want me to die, I’ll die. Just… don’t send me back to them. Please.”

Damon’s head turned slightly at my words, his gaze flickering to the silver scars crisscrossing my shoulders. For a moment, his expression faltered, but then his features hardened again.

“You think words are enough?” he said coldly. “That’s not how loyalty works, Ayla.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me,” I said quietly. “But let me prove myself. Let me help you take them down.” I straightened, forcing myself to sit upright even as my body screamed in protest. “I know their weaknesses. They don’t have as many soldiers as you, so they throw everyone they have at the fight, hoping it’s enough. They keep their strongest warriors in the front line, but they don’t have unity. Their soldiers hate each other as much as they hate their alpha. They fight like individuals, not as a pack. Use that. Divide them. Break them.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered my words. Kieran glanced at him, his brow furrowing.

“She’s right,” Kieran said after a moment. “If what she says is true, we can use that against them.”

Damon let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “That’s a big if, Kieran. She’s lied to us before.”

“I know,” Kieran said evenly. “But I think she’s telling the truth now. Look at her.”

Damon’s gaze flicked to me again, and I saw the conflict in his eyes—anger, betrayal, but also something deeper, something he was trying to suppress.

Finally, he turned to Kieran. “We’ll decide later,” he said, his voice clipped. “For now, she stays locked in the pack house. No one sees her.”

Kieran nodded reluctantly, but the tension in his jaw told me he wasn’t fully on board with Damon’s decision.

I bowed my head, the weight of their judgment pressing down on me. “Thank you,” I whispered, even though they hadn’t given me what I truly wanted.

I rose shakily to my feet and turned to leave, my legs trembling beneath me. As I reached the door, I cast one last glance at them, silently praying that the bond we shared would be enough to save me.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the door of my room. Damon’s words kept echoing in my mind. “You think that makes this better? You think lying to us can just be undone?” The weight of their judgment was unbearable. I tried to steady my breathing, but every inhale felt like I was suffocating under their distrust.

I pressed my palms to my face, my fingers trembling. My family’s faces swam in my mind—my sister’s shy smile, my grandfather’s gruff laughter. They were all I had left, and yet, in trying to protect them, I had destroyed everything else that mattered.

A soft knock startled me, my heart leaping into my throat. I rushed to the door, fumbling with the handle. I smelled him and my heart race, maybe with hope, “Kieran?” I whispered, my voice full of hope as I opened it.

He stood in the doorway, tall and imposing, his green eyes unreadable. For a brief, fleeting moment, I thought he’d come to reassure me, to tell me he believed me. But his words were cold and measured.

“What exactly did you send in that report about the northern border?” His voice cut through the fragile silence between us.

My breath hitched. “Kieran…”

“Ayla.” His tone sharpened, leaving no room for evasion. “We need to know. What did you tell them?”

I swallowed hard, the guilt tightening my chest. “I… I told them about the guard rotation schedules and the weak points along the northern ridge. About how the patrols shifted every six hours and how there were fewer guards during the night because most of the pack trusted the terrain to protect us.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the silence stretched unbearably between us. When he finally looked up, our gazes locked. His green eyes were piercing, the weight of his disappointment cutting through me.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked, his voice low but full of raw emotion. “I thought you trusted me—as your mate and as your chief. You could have told me, Ayla. I could have helped you.”

His words were like knives sinking into my chest. I stepped back, wrapping my arms around myself, the shame almost too much to bear. “I… I acted like the old Ayla,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “The one who didn’t know what a real pack was. I didn’t know what unity, love, or mates truly meant. When they sent me my sister’s hair…” My voice broke, and I had to steady myself before continuing. “I panicked. I didn’t think. I acted by instinct. And my instinct was to never trust anyone—because I never could before.

“But now…” I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. “Now I see what I should have done. I should have told you. I should have told Damon. I should have trusted you both.”

I took a hesitant step forward, my fingers twitching to reach for him, to find some shred of comfort in his touch. “Kieran, I’m so—”

He took a step back, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Don’t.” His voice was strained, like he was holding himself together by a thread.

I froze, my outstretched hand falling to my side. The space between us felt like a chasm, one I wasn’t sure I could ever cross.

“I’m not ready,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “If you touch me now…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to stop myself, and that’s dangerous—for both of us.”

My chest constricted, tears stinging my eyes. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I understand,” I whispered.

Without another word, Kieran turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

I sank to the bed, staring at the closed door. But I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t let their judgment, their hesitation, stop me from doing what was right.

I stood, my resolve hardening. If they couldn’t trust me with their decision, I would show them.

I slipped out of the room, my steps quiet and purposeful. The pack needed me, whether they believed it or not. And if I had to fight to prove my loyalty, then so be it. I wasn’t going to sit idly by while the Black Pack faced the war I had helped bring to their doorstep.

I would fight for them. For Damon. For Kieran. For redemption.

And I wouldn’t stop until I earned it.

Chapter 27

POV: Ayla

I couldn’t sit still. Not when I knew the pack I had come to love was under attack, not when I felt the faint vibrations of the distant battle through the walls of my confinement. Damon and Kieran had locked me away—maybe to protect me, maybe to punish me—but I couldn’t stay here while others fought and bled for the Black Pack.

My heart pounded as I slipped into the hallways, silent and swift. I knew the guards’ patrol routes, the hidden blind spots, and how to avoid detection. My training as a soldier wasn’t something I could erase, no matter how much I wanted to leave my old life behind. But even as I moved through the shadows, a part of me wondered if Damon and Kieran would ever see me as anything more than the traitor I had been.

By the time I reached the edge of the pack house, the sound of clashing steel and furious howls echoed through the air. My feet moved before my mind could catch up, carrying me toward the north border where the battle raged.

The battlefield stretched before me, chaos and carnage etched into every corner. And then I saw them: the SilverMoon warriors. Their insignias gleamed in the faint light, a cruel reminder of the life I had left behind. My stomach twisted at the sight of them.

“Strak!” a voice bellowed.

I turned to see a familiar face—scarred, sneering, and too familiar. He had been one of my instructors during training. His eyes gleamed with recognition as he waved me over.

“You made it!” he called. “Come! Fight with us and end this miserable pack for good!”

My chest tightened. My name sounded foreign and wrong on his lips, a reminder of the girl I used to be, the weapon they had forged in fire, silver and blood. For a moment, I faltered, torn between the past that had shaped me and the future I was fighting for.

Then I saw them.

Kieran and Damon stood in the thick of the fight, their movements brutal and efficient. Damon’s fury was palpable, his strikes lethal as he cut through the enemy lines. Kieran’s blade flashed in the dim light, his expression calm but no less deadly. They fought like they were born for this, side by side, leading their pack with unmatched ferocity.

And in that moment, my choice became clear.

I stepped forward, drawing my blade. The SilverMoon soldier grinned, mistaking my intent.

Until I lunged.

The blade sank into his side, his eyes widening in shock as he fell to the ground. “I don’t fight for you anymore,” I spat, yanking my weapon free.

The battlefield shifted as SilverMoon warriors realized I was against them. I didn’t hesitate, striking with precision and fury. For the first time, I wasn’t fighting out of fear or duty—I was fighting for something that mattered.

A SilverMoon soldier charged at me, but I countered, my blade meeting his with a sharp clang. My breath burned in my lungs, but I refused to stop. I wasn’t fighting alone anymore.

“Stop!” a commanding voice roared.

I froze mid-strike, turning toward the sound. Damon and Kieran stood a few feet away, their eyes locked on me. Damon’s expression was a storm of emotions—anger, disbelief, and something softer buried deep beneath. Kieran’s gaze was no less intense, though his features held a trace of pain.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Damon demanded, his voice raw.

I straightened, wiping the blood from my blade. “Fighting for my pack,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands.

“You disobeyed orders,” Kieran said, his tone unreadable.

“I did,” I admitted, meeting his gaze. “Because this is where I belong. And I’ll fight to prove it.”

Damon’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched. “You think this erases what you’ve done?”

“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t expect forgiveness. But I won’t stand by while my pack is in danger—even if it costs me my life.”

The battlefield seemed to still, the tension between us thick and unyielding.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the chaos as a figure strode into view.

Alpha Ryan.

His presence was commanding, his dark hair and amber eyes hold his cruelty his sharp features twisted into a cruel smile. His eyes locked onto me with a predator’s focus.

“So,” he drawled, his voice cold. “My gold soldier has turned traitor.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, the nickname a bitter reminder of everything he had taken from me.

“You were supposed to be my perfect weapon,” Ryan continued, his tone mocking. “Not a soldier. Not a wolf. A weapon. And now you’ve decided to fight for them?”

“I’m not your weapon,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “And I’m not yours.”

Ryan laughed, the sound cold and empty. “You think they’ll accept you? After everything you’ve done? You’ll always be an outsider, Ayla. Always.”

“I don’t care what you think,” I shot back. “I’m not going back to SilverMoon. This is my home now.”

Before Ryan could respond, Damon stepped forward, his fury radiating like a physical force.

“She’s not yours to claim,” Damon growled, his voice low, possessive and lethal. “She never was.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, his composure slipping. “And what? You think she’s yours now?”

Damon’s words were like thunder. “Yes, She’s my mate. She belongs to me now.”

“To me too,” Kieran added, his voice quiet but resolute. “She is ours now.”

Ryan’s expression twisted with fury, but I didn’t care. Damon and Kieran had chosen me.

The battle resumed around us, chaos breaking the fragile moment. But Damon’s voice cut through the noise like a blade.

“She fights for us!” he roared. “Anyone who doubts her answers to me!”

Tears blurred my vision, but I held my ground. For the first time in years, I wasn’t just a soldier or a weapon.

I was home. I was free.

The chaos of battle consumed every thought, every breath. Blood coated my hands and stained the earth beneath my feet as I fought my way through the SilverMoon warriors. Each strike of my blade was fueled by years of pain, anger, and the desperate need to prove that I was no longer theirs.

A savage growl ripped through the air, pulling my attention to the heart of the battlefield. My heart dropped at the sight—Alpha Ryan charging toward Damon, his silver blade gleaming ominously in the dim light. Damon, focused on a SilverMoon warrior, didn’t see him coming.

“No!” The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.

I moved without thinking, my body reacting faster than my mind could catch up. I threw myself between them, arms spread wide, shielding Damon with my body.

The blade pierced through me, a burning familiar agony. Silver. It had to be silver. I gasped as the pain radiated through every nerve, fire spreading from the wound like venom.

“Ayla!” Damon’s voice was raw, filled with terror and disbelief.

Ryan’s expression shifted from triumph to surprise as he realized what had happened. He killed his weapon, the one he forged in torture to be a traitor, that ended up betraying him. But before he could react further, Kieran was there—a blur of fury and precision.

With a swift, brutal strike, Kieran drove his blade through Ryan’s chest. “You will never touch her again,” he growled, his voice cold and unyielding.

Ryan crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The battle stilled around us, the remaining SilverMoon warriors frozen in shock at the fall of their Alpha.

But I barely registered it. The world tilted as my legs gave out, and I collapsed into Damon’s arms.

“No, no, no,” Damon muttered, his hands pressing against the wound in my abdomen, desperate to stop the flow of blood. His face was pale, his eyes wide with panic. “Stay with me, Ayla.”

Kieran dropped to his knees beside us, his hands trembling as he searched for something, anything, to help. “We need a doctor!” he bellowed, his voice carrying across the battlefield.

I tried to speak, to reassure them, but my voice failed me. The pain was too much, my vision blurring as darkness crept in.

“You can’t leave us,” Damon said, his voice breaking. “You can’t—please.”

Kieran’s hand cupped my cheek, his green eyes blazing with emotion. “Stay with us, Ayla. You’re stronger than this. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Their voices became a distant echo as the darkness pulled me under.

Chapter 28

POV: Ayla

The world came back in fragments. My body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, my limbs unresponsive, and my head clouded with a strange fog. I struggled to open my eyes, the faint, rhythmic beeping of a machine pulling me back to consciousness.

The sterile smell of antiseptics mingled with the crisp scent of clean linens, and I realized I was lying in a hospital bed. My body ached with a deep, relentless throb emanating from my abdomen, the pain muted but persistent beneath layers of bandages. I was alive.

I blinked, my vision sharpening just enough to see two familiar figures standing at my bedside. Damon’s face was etched with relief, his usually commanding features soft and vulnerable, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He sank heavily into the chair beside me as though his legs could no longer hold him. Kieran stood behind him, his posture tense but his expression uncharacteristically gentle.

“Hey,” I croaked, my voice a raspy whisper.

Damon’s head snapped up at the sound, his blue eyes locking onto mine. “You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, shaking his head as though trying to steady himself. “We thought—” He broke off, unable to finish.

“You scared us,” Kieran said, stepping closer, his hand resting briefly on Damon’s shoulder before moving to the edge of my bed. His tone was quieter than usual but carried the weight of his words.

I let out a shaky exhale, my hand instinctively brushing over my abdomen. Even through the layers of bandages, I could feel the echo of the silver blade’s bite, a memory etched in my flesh. “You’re safe,” I whispered, my throat dry and tight.

“No,” Kieran said firmly, moving closer still, his green eyes blazing with intensity. “You saved us. You saved this pack.”

Damon’s head dipped, his hand covering his face as he struggled to regain control. When he finally looked back at me, his voice wavered. “It was a bad wound. The doctors said it was touch and go for a while. Silver…” He trailed off, his jaw clenching as he fought to continue. “This will leave a scar.”

“One more for my collection,” I said with a faint, teasing smile, shrugging my shoulders despite the ache it caused. “But this one? This one I’m going to like.”

“It’s a scar to be proud of,” Kieran said softly, his hand resting on my shoulder. Damon followed his lead, reaching out to clasp my hand in his.

I let their touches ground me, feeling both relief and fear bubbling within me. The relief came from knowing they were here—that I wasn’t alone. The fear? It came from everything that had happened. Everything that I had done. I needed to ask, no matter how much it scared me.

“Did you forgive me?” My voice was clear, leaving no room for misunderstanding. I looked at both of them, my gaze unwavering.

Damon’s lips parted, but it was Kieran who spoke first, his calm reason always leading. “You were unconscious for two days,” he began, his voice measured but heavy with emotion.

I sucked in a sharp breath, stunned by how much time had passed.

“In that time, we not only held the border but won the battle,” Kieran continued. “Alpha Ryan’s death secured the SilverMoon territory for the Black Pack. And…” He hesitated, glancing at Damon before continuing. “We gained access to the SilverMoon archives—your old records.”

My eyes widened, dread curling in my stomach.

“It was hard to even look at them,” Damon said, his voice trembling. “The things they did to you. The training, the punishments… all of it. And then, even after everything you endured, you chose to shield me with your body. You… you saved my life, Ayla.” His voice cracked as he finished, his blue eyes glistening.

“I would do it again,” I said, my voice steady despite the tears pricking my own eyes. “For both of you.” I looked between them, my gaze lingering on each of their faces.

Damon’s lips quirked into a small, rueful smile. “Even after all the anger I felt… I couldn’t stop loving you. It’s like the bond is stronger than anything else.”

“And it’s not just the bond,” Kieran added, his voice quiet but resolute. “It’s you, Ayla. You’re stronger than anything they could’ve broken. You chose us, even when it cost you everything.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. “I love you,” I said, my voice breaking as I looked at them both.

“I love you too,” they said in unison, their voices overlapping, raw and full of emotion.

Damon squeezed my hand, Kieran’s hand still firm on my shoulder. For the first time, I felt truly whole. I had sacrificed, I had endured, and now, for the first time, I felt like I belonged—not just to a pack, but to them.

The weight of everything that had happened was still sinking in when Damon cleared his throat, drawing my attention. His expression was still soft, but there was a spark in his eyes—a quiet intensity that made my chest tighten.

“We have something to tell you,” he said, his voice low but purposeful.

I frowned, trying to sit up straighter despite the dull ache in my abdomen. Damon immediately leaned forward, his hand bracing my shoulder to stop me.

“Easy,” he murmured, his touch warm.

I let out a frustrated breath but stayed still. “What is it?”

Damon glanced at Kieran, who had taken a step back, moving toward the door. “When we won the battle,” Damon began, his voice steady, “we didn’t just claim the SilverMoon pack’s territory.” He paused, his gaze locking on mine, his blue eyes full of meaning. “We found something—or rather, someone.”

My heart skipped a beat, the words twisting in my mind. Someone?

Kieran opened the door slightly and motioned to someone outside. “Come in,” he said softly.

I turned my head toward the door, my pulse racing. Time seemed to stretch, each second agonizingly long. And then, they appeared.

First, a small figure stepped inside—a girl, her blond hair tied back, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. My breath caught in my throat as I recognized her.

“Lila,” I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible.

Her name was still on my lips when another figure followed—an older man, his steps slower, more deliberate. His gray hair and weathered face looked exactly as I remembered, his eyes full of emotion as they locked onto mine.

“Grandpa…” My voice broke, and I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks.

“AYLA!” Lila’s voice rang out as she bolted across the room, throwing herself into my arms. The impact made me wince, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, burying my face in her hair as sobs wracked my body.

“You’re here. You’re really here,” I whispered, my tears soaking into her blond locks.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Lila cried, clutching me like she was afraid I’d disappear.

My grandfather approached more slowly, his cane tapping softly against the floor. His eyes, filled with the same kindness I remembered, shimmered with unshed tears. When he reached my bedside, he placed a trembling hand on my shoulder.

“My brave girl,” he said, his voice low and full of pride. “You’ve done more for us than anyone could have asked.”

I couldn’t speak. My throat was thick with emotion, and all I could do was reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly as if to confirm he was real.

Damon and Kieran stood back, watching the reunion in silence. When I finally found my voice, I turned to them, my words trembling with gratitude.

“You… you saved them,” I managed to say, my voice breaking. “You brought them back to me.”

Damon stepped forward, his expression soft but determined. “We promised you, Ayla. You’ve given everything for this pack—your loyalty, your life, your love. It was time we gave something back to you.”

Kieran nodded, his gaze steady as he added, “We couldn’t let them suffer any longer. Not after everything you’ve endured.”

I shook my head, the tears streaming down my face. “I don’t know how to thank you—either of you. This means… it means everything to me.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Kieran said, his tone gentle as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “They’re safe now, Ayla. And so are you. You’re finally free.”

The weight I had carried for so long—the fear, the guilt, the constant ache of separation—began to lift. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe again.

Lila clung to me, her tears soaking my hospital gown. My grandfather leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his hand trembling against mine.

And in that moment, surrounded by the people I loved most, I realized something.

I wasn’t just free.

I was home.

Chapter 29

POV: Ayla

The room was quiet, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. My body still ached, a dull reminder of the battle I barely survived, but the pain was distant, muted by the warmth radiating from Damon and Kieran sitting on either side of me.

For the first time in so long, I felt at peace. My family was safe. I was alive. And the two men who were my salvation, my strength, and my weakness had become the anchors keeping me steady.

“Are you comfortable?” Kieran’s voice was low, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch sent a shiver through me—not from fear, but from the startling tenderness in the gesture.

I had missed them so much. I missed their touch, their presence.

I nodded, my throat tightening. “I’m fine. Just… overwhelmed. I’m still trying to piece together everything that happened.”

Damon, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned closer, his intense blue eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t have to carry it anymore, Ayla,” he said softly. “Not the pain. Not the guilt. Not any of it.”

“We’ll always be here,” Kieran added, his voice steady yet thick with emotion.

I looked between them, my heart aching in a way that had nothing to do with my wounds. Their faces were etched with so much sincerity, so much love, that it almost broke me.

“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“You deserve everything,” Damon said firmly, cupping my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding. “You deserve love. You deserve us.”

My chest tightened, the walls I’d built around my heart cracking under the weight of his words. And the reality hit me like a wave: they were real, they forgave my betrayal, they saved me, saved my family, and fought for everything I thought I’d lost.

“I…” My voice faltered as my gaze flicked to Kieran. His green eyes softened, a rare vulnerability shining through.

“You’re ours, Ayla,” he said, his voice a quiet promise. “And we’re yours.”

“Ours,” Damon echoed, shifting closer until he was right beside me, his presence so near I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Damon leaned in first, his lips brushing mine in a kiss so soft it felt like a whisper. It wasn’t demanding or rushed—it was an offering, a plea, and a promise all in one. I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I tasted the salt of my own tears on our lips.

His lips moved against mine, gentle, tender, rocking me in the kiss. But the bond screamed inside my chest, urging me to pull him closer, to deepen the connection. My fingers found his neck, tugging him to me, and his tongue brushed against mine, sending sparks racing through my body.

But the moment his weight shifted against me, pressing into my wound, a sharp pain ripped through me. I gasped, breaking the kiss with a pained moan.

“Sorry,” Damon said quickly, pulling back, his eyes wide with guilt.

I chuckled weakly, resting my head back against the pillows. “Damn wound.”

His lips curved into a faint smirk, though the worry lingered in his eyes. “I’ll wait as long as you need,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “I’ve waited this long. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kieran’s hand found mine, his calloused fingers lacing through mine as he leaned closer. “My turn,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips before he kissed me.

Where Damon’s kiss had been soft, Kieran’s was grounding, solid—like he was trying to tether me to him, to remind me that I was safe. His lips moved against mine with a restrained hunger, as if he wanted to pour everything he felt into that moment but held back for my sake.

I wanted him too, craved him, and my body betrayed me, pulling him closer. But Kieran stopped, his hands steadying me as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine.

“We would never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “You’re safe with us. Always.”

My heart felt full to bursting as I looked between them, their faces so different yet both filled with the same fierce devotion.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you two,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Damon smirked, his hand brushing against mine. “You’re ours, Ayla. You don’t have to earn it.”

Kieran’s thumb brushed over my knuckles. “We’re a team now.”

“By the way she’s pulling us,” Damon teased, his voice growing darker, “we’re going to have our hands full once she’s healed.”

Kieran chuckled, his eyes flashing with the same heated anticipation. “I can’t wait for it.”

“As soon as I can,” I said, grinning despite myself.

Damon leaned back, his smirk widening. “We’ll hold you to that.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I belonged. Not just to a pack, not just to a duty—but to them. To this.

As we sat there, their presence grounding me, I realized something I hadn’t before: I didn’t just love them.

They were my redemption.

I spend more two days in the hospital healing, but now I was free.

The crisp morning air brushed against my skin as I stepped out of the hospital, my legs still shaky but determined. Freedom had never felt so sweet, but it was also a reminder that I couldn’t waste any more time lying around. My sister and grandfather were safe, and the weight of that truth filled me with a quiet strength.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Kieran watching me like a hawk. He had been my shadow since the moment I woke up, and his overprotectiveness was starting to bubble over.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he walked up beside me.

“I’ve done enough of that,” I replied, giving him a teasing smile. “I can’t let the pack fall apart while I lounge in bed, can I?”

Kieran narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You just got out of the hospital, Ayla. You shouldn’t push yourself.”

“Push myself?” I arched an eyebrow, stepping closer to him. “Kieran, I’m not made of glass. I’m fine. And besides…” My voice dipped as I leaned in, letting my hand brush his arm. “I’ve already rested too long on that hospital bed. I’ll be waiting for you and Damon in our bedroom tonight. No excuses, and I won’t be tired.”

His eyes darkened, a mix of frustration and desire swirling in their depths. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but I caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” I quipped, brushing past him.

As I approached the pack house, Damon was already waiting for me at the entrance, leaning casually against the doorframe. His piercing blue eyes swept over me, lingering just long enough to make me feel like he was assessing every move I made.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, though his tone was lighter than Kieran’s, his lips curving into a small smile.

“I’m fine, Damon,” I said with a sigh. “Really. I can’t stay still knowing there’s so much to be done. SilverMoon is my old pack. I know how they operate. Let me help.”

He tilted his head, studying me for a long moment. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, cupping the side of my face and pressing a soft kiss to my temple. The simple gesture melted away the lingering tension between us.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “But I like that about you.”

“Good. Because I’m not changing anytime soon.”

With that, Damon and I walked into the meeting room together, the weight of the day ahead settling over me.

The meeting was intense. Decisions needed to be made about the remnants of the SilverMoon pack—what to do with their land, their people, and their structure. My knowledge of their inner workings became invaluable, and though my heart raced at the thought of stepping into the role of advisor so soon after everything, I refused to back down.

I outlined plans, explained their hierarchy, and offered solutions that would ease the integration of the remaining SilverMoon wolves into the Black Pack. My voice carried a steadiness I hadn’t expected, and the respect I earned from the other leaders in the room was palpable.

Damon stayed close, his presence a silent support as I took control of the room. Kieran, despite his earlier reluctance, watched me with a quiet pride that made my chest ache.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, exhaustion settled into my bones, but it was a satisfying kind of tired.

Damon placed a hand on my back as we left the meeting room, his touch grounding. “You were incredible today,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“You’re not mad I didn’t rest?” I teased, glancing up at him.

His lips quirked into a smile. “I think you proved your point.”

When we reached Damon’s room—our room now—I found Kieran already waiting inside. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, but the tension in his posture melted the moment he saw me.

“You overdid it,” he said, though his tone was gentler this time.

“Maybe,” I admitted, stepping inside and kicking off my shoes. “But it was worth it.”

Damon closed the door behind us, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, cozier, as if the three of us had created our own little world within it.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, glancing between them. “It feels good to belong somewhere,” I said quietly. “To belong to someone.”

Kieran walked over, kneeling in front of me and taking my hand in his. “You belong to us,” he said, his voice steady and sure.

“And we belong to you,” Damon added, sitting beside me and brushing a hand through my hair.

As I looked between them, the weight of the day lifted, replaced by a warmth that seeped into every corner of my being.

This was home. This was mine.

And tomorrow, we would face whatever challenges came our way. Together.

Damon’s hand trailed over my stomach, the warmth of his touch making my breath hitch. His thumb grazed the spot where I had once been wounded, and he smirked, raising a brow at me.

“Oh, so you’re not hurt here anymore?” His teasing tone was laced with something darker, something that promised I wouldn’t be able to walk away from him now.

Before I could answer, his hand moved to my neck, his fingers curling possessively around it as his lips found mine in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs.

My Alpha.

My mate.

My Damon.

Chapter 30

POV: Ayla

The kiss wasn’t rushed; it was deep, tender, and unhurried, but it carried the weight of promises I had craved for too long. My body melted into his, but just as my mind began to spiral into him, Damon’s lips left mine, moving to my jaw, then to the sensitive curve of my neck.

I barely had time to mourn the loss of his kiss when another pair of lips claimed mine.

Kieran.

His kiss was different. Where Damon’s was a firm, grounding weight, Kieran’s was fire—a spark igniting every nerve ending in my body. I whimpered into his mouth, my hands moving to his shoulders, pulling him closer. His tongue teased mine, and his growl vibrated through me as if he couldn’t get enough.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” I whispered breathlessly. “But I think I need a bath first.”

“Now you decide to use your reason?” Damon murmured against my neck, his voice low and amused.

“Not a problem,” Kieran said, his lips brushing mine, a wicked grin playing on his face.

“We can start there,” Damon added with a smirk.

Before I could respond, Kieran scooped me into his arms, and I laughed softly, the sound light and free. He carried me to the bathroom as Damon followed, his confident stride making my pulse quicken.

Damon turned on the water, the sound of it cascading against the tiles blending with the pounding of my heartbeat. But the bath would have to wait—our impatience was a living, breathing thing.

Damon’s shirt was the first to hit the floor, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ripple of his muscles as he pulled it over his head. Kieran placed me on my feet, his hands lingering on my waist as Damon stepped behind me, his heat searing into my back.

“You’re killing me, darling,” Damon murmured as he began to peel off my clothes, his hands steady but deliberate.

Kieran leaned in, his lips brushing over my collarbone as he helped Damon with every barrier of fabric that separated us. His hands were strong and sure, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched.

When the last piece of clothing fell away, the cool rush of water against my skin was nothing compared to the heat between us.

Damon’s arms circled my waist, pulling me flush against him, his lips finding the curve of my neck as I watched Kieran step out of his jeans. He was glorious, his long blond hair framing a face full of hunger and reverence.

“Too much for you?” Damon teased as he kissed the shell of my ear, his erection pressing firmly against me.

“Not even close,” I managed, my voice shaking with anticipation.

Kieran knelt before me, his hands trailing over my thighs, his lips leaving a path of kisses as he moved lower. Damon’s hands traced the scars on my back, the silver lines that told my story, my pain.

For a moment, the air shifted.

When Damon pressed a kiss to one of those scars, my breath caught. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was forgiveness. It was understanding.

Kieran’s lips reached the scar on my stomach, the mark of my sacrifice, and he lingered there. “This,” he murmured, his voice reverent, “is the Ayla who belongs to us now. The Ayla who is ours.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, but it was gone as quickly as it came, lost in the cascade of water. Their reverence, their love, in the midst of this passion—it unraveled me.

Kieran didn’t stop. His lips moved lower, and when his tongue brushed over my clit, my knees nearly buckled. Damon held me steady, his fingers brushing over my nipples, pinching just enough to send another wave of heat coursing through me.

It was like they had orchestrated this moment, their touches perfectly timed to drive me over the edge.

“You taste so good,” Kieran said, his voice low and guttural. His green eyes met mine, dark with desire, and he slid a finger inside me, his movements deliberate and torturous.

“She’s so tight,” he murmured to Damon, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Don’t tell me,” Damon growled against my neck, his voice a husky promise. “I want to feel it.”

“You’ll make us crazy, honey,” Kieran said, his voice rough as he kissed me again, his tongue flicking over my clit before sucking it into his mouth.

That was all it took. My body arched, pleasure crashing through me in waves as I came in their arms. But Kieran didn’t stop. He kept going, his tongue and fingers relentless until another orgasm tore through me, leaving me trembling and breathless.

“You’ve had your turn,” Damon said, his voice thick with need as he scooped me into his arms. “Now it’s mine.”

“She knows this is just the beginning,” Kieran added with a wicked grin.

Damon laid me gently on the bed, the softness of the sheets beneath me a stark contrast to the hard strength of his body covering mine. There was no barrier between us, no pretense. For the first time, we were completely naked in front of each other. Yet there was no room for shyness—only love and raw, unrelenting desire.

And God, how I wanted him. Every part of him.

He kissed me, his lips slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second, every taste. At the same time, his hand slipped between my legs, a single finger sliding inside me. I gasped into his mouth, my body trembling beneath his touch. Damon pulled back slightly, his blue eyes locking onto mine as his thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves that made me cry out from the back of my throat.

“You’re right, Kieran,” Damon murmured, his voice rough with hunger. “She’s so tight.”

His fingers didn’t stop, pressing against a spot inside me that made my hips jerk uncontrollably. Every nerve in my body came alive, and I moaned louder, unable to contain the sheer intensity of the pleasure. Damon’s lips curved into a smirk as he watched my reaction, his thumb circling again, dragging me closer to the edge.

“I can feel your virginity in my fingertips,” he said, his voice low and reverent, as if the realization both humbled and inflamed him. “Who do you want first, Ayla?” His tone was teasing, but his gaze burned with a depth of emotion that made my heart ache.

Before I could answer, my body shattered under his touch, my release tearing through me as my head fell back against the pillow. My moans filled the room, echoing like a melody only he and Kieran could hear.

“God,” Damon groaned, his breathing ragged. “I need to go first.”

“The Moon chose you first,” I whispered, smiling up at him through half-lidded eyes, my chest still heaving.

“But don’t think I’ll just sit still,” Kieran said, his voice a playful rumble. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind me, pulling my body against his hard chest. His warmth enveloped me, grounding me, even as Damon knelt between my legs. Kieran’s lips found the curve of my neck, pressing soft, tantalizing kisses there while his hands roamed my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Damon’s hands gripped my thighs, spreading me open. His gaze flicked to mine, filled with need but also with something deeper—something unspoken. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, his voice holding a tenderness that made my throat tighten. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, my voice trembling as I whispered, “Completely.”

Kieran’s lips brushed against my ear. “She’s ready,” he murmured, his words sending shivers down my spine.

Damon positioned himself at my entrance, his hardness pressing against me, and I felt him begin to push inside—slowly, carefully. The stretch was intense, my body adjusting to him, and the pleasure was laced with a sharp ache that made me wince. Damon noticed immediately, his brows furrowing as he paused.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. “I can stop.”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I murmured, my hands gripping his shoulders as I tilted my hips toward him. “I want all of you.”

“God, Ayla,” Damon groaned, his control slipping as he slid deeper. Inch by inch, he claimed me, and when he was finally fully seated, he stilled, giving me a moment to adjust. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin. “You feel… perfect,” he whispered, almost as if in awe.

The slow, deliberate pace quickly turned into something more urgent as he began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through me. My wolf stirred, the connection between us growing stronger with every passing second. Kieran’s hand slid down my body, his fingers finding my clit and adding another layer of sensation that made me cry out.

“I can feel you getting close,” Damon rasped, his canines descending as his wolf came to the surface. Kieran gently brushed my hair aside, exposing the curve of my neck. I tilted my head instinctively, baring my throat in submission—a silent plea for him to take what was already his.

When Damon’s teeth pierced my skin, the sharp pain ignited a firestorm of pleasure that exploded through me. I shattered around him, my release pulling Damon over the edge as he buried himself inside me, his growl vibrating through my body as he marked me. He kissed the fresh mark he’d left, his lips reverent as he whispered, “Mine.”

But he didn’t stop there. Damon leaned back, exposing his own neck to me—a gesture of ultimate trust and submission. My wolf roared to the surface, and I sank my canines into his flesh, marking him as mine. The taste of his blood—a mix of copper and the unique scent that was purely Damon—flooded my senses, and the bond between us solidified, locking us together forever.

He pulled me into his arms, his forehead resting against mine as our breaths mingled. “Mine,” he growled again, his voice thick with emotion. This time, I knew it wasn’t just his wolf speaking. It was Damon—my mate, my Alpha, my everything.

As I lay there, cradled against his chest, Kieran’s hand traced gentle patterns along my back. I turned my head to look at him, my warrior, my mate.

“You can handle one more round?” Kieran teased, his green eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned down to kiss me softly.

I smiled, my body already stirring with anticipation. “Always,” I whispered.