TWO YEARS LATER
The passage of time in the Whispering Valley was a gentle thing, marked not by calendars, but by the turning of seasons and the growth of my son. The frantic, terrified girl who had stumbled out of the forest two years ago was a ghost, a memory that belonged to another life. In her place stood Elara, the Healer of Stormwind.
My days were full. The pack, having witnessed the miracle of Kael's birth and the destruction of my curse, had come to revere my abilities. They no longer saw me as a refugee, but as a gift from the Goddess herself. Wolves would come to my small cottage, which Maeve had helped me turn into a healer's den, seeking aid for everything from hunting injuries to winter fevers.
My power, once a terrifying, uncontrolled torrent, was now a calm, flowing river. I learned to draw on it with precision, mending a cub's broken leg with a soft, silver light, or easing the troubled dreams of an elder with a gentle touch. It was a fulfilling existence, a life of purpose I had never imagined possible.
Kael was my sun and my twin moons. He was a whirlwind of energy and laughter, a bright, precocious child who had the entire valley wrapped around his little finger. He had my silver eyes, but he had inherited the striking black hair of his biological father, a constant, bittersweet reminder of a past I tried to forget. His personality, however, was all his own—confident, curious, and with a stubborn streak that both charmed and exasperated me.
And he adored Lucian.
Lucian, true to his vow, had been a constant, unwavering presence in our lives. He was not just an Alpha to Kael, but a father in every way that mattered. He taught Kael how to track, how to identify edible berries, and how to throw his head back and howl at the moons with pure, unadulterated joy. Kael's first word had not been "Mama," but a babbled, happy "Lu."
One afternoon, I was grinding herbs in my garden while Kael attempted to build a fortress out of pebbles. Astrid approached, her stride as confident and purposeful as ever, but the cold hostility that had once defined her was long gone.
"Elara," she said, her voice a respectful, professional tone. "One of my patrolmen took a tumble down the eastern ridge. His leg is broken, a bad compound fracture. Maeve has set the bone, but she says your touch would speed the healing tenfold."
"Of course," I said, wiping my hands on my apron. "I'll come at once."
As I stood, Kael looked up from his fortress. He saw Astrid, and a wide grin split his face. "Auntie Astwid!" he chirped, running towards her.
Astrid, the fearsome lead warrior of the Stormwind Pack, melted. A rare, genuine smile touched her lips as she effortlessly swung the toddler up into her arms. "And how is my favorite little warrior today? Have you been protecting your mother from any vicious butterflies?"
"I scared 'em!" Kael declared proudly, puffing out his chest.
Watching them, a warmth spread through my chest. I had not just found a sanctuary here; I had found a family.
I healed the warrior's leg, the silver light from my hands knitting bone and sinew back together with a gentle warmth. The warrior and his mate thanked me with a reverence that still felt strange, and Astrid gave me a nod of sincere gratitude.
"You are a great asset to this pack, Elara," she said as we walked back towards the Great Tree. "My brother was right to bring you here."
Coming from Astrid, it was the highest praise imaginable.
That evening, after I had tucked a sleepy Kael into his bed, I found Lucian on the balcony of my cottage, looking out at the starlit valley. He had been present for Kael's bedtime story, a nightly ritual he never missed.
"He's a good boy," Lucian said, not turning. "Brave. Kind. He has your heart."
"And your patience, thankfully," I replied, standing beside him.
We stood in comfortable silence for a while, the easy quiet of two people who understood each other without the need for words. My relationship with Lucian was the most profound and the most confusing of my life. He was my protector, my confidant, my son's father, my dearest friend. My heart ached with a deep, unspoken affection for him. But the ghost of Damien, the scar of the mate bond, however broken, still lingered in a deep, forgotten corner of my soul.
"Elara," Lucian said, finally turning to face me. His sapphire eyes were serious, his expression gentle but filled with a new, nervous intensity. "We have been a family in all but name for two years now. Kael sees me as his father. And I… I have come to see you as the other half of my own soul."
My breath hitched. I knew where this was going.
"I have tried to be patient," he continued, his voice a low, earnest whisper. "I wanted to give you time to heal, to find yourself. But my heart can no longer be silent." He took my hands in his, his touch warm and firm. "At the next full moon, at the festival of the harvest, I would like to formally ask you to be my mate. To be my Luna. To make our family real in the eyes of the pack and the Goddess."
He wasn't demanding. He was asking. He was giving me a choice, something no one had ever done before.
"You do not have to answer now," he said quickly, seeing the turmoil in my eyes. "Think on it. Whatever you decide, nothing will change between us. You and Kael will always have my protection."
He raised one of my hands to his lips and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to my knuckles. "Good night, Elara."
He turned and left, leaving me alone on the balcony, my heart pounding a wild, chaotic rhythm against my ribs.
A future. A real, happy, honorable future was being offered to me. With a good man. A man I respected, a man I… cared for deeply. It was everything I should have wanted.
So why, then, as I looked out at the peaceful valley, did a sudden, unwelcome image of cold, tormented silver eyes flash through my mind? And why did it feel like a betrayal?