Rian's POV —
Forty years since I claimed Luca.
We're old now—truly old. Gray hair, weathered faces, bodies slowing down. But still together. Still in love.
"Forty years," Luca says, watching our great-grandchildren play. "How is that possible?"
"Time flies when you're happy." I pull him close, movements slower but still natural. "Best forty years ever."
Our family has exploded—three children, seven grandchildren, now four great-grandchildren. The pack is thriving under Kai's leadership (he became Alpha five years ago).
"We did good," I observe.
"We did perfect." He leans into me. "Our legacy. Everywhere."
That evening, renewing vows for the fifth time, I struggle with words.
"Forty years ago, I made the worst decision. Forced a bond. Claimed you without permission."
My voice cracks. Luca squeezes my hand.
"I've spent forty years grateful you forgave me. Forty years loving you. Forty years building this life."
I look at our massive family—descendants of that forced bond, proof that love can bloom anywhere.
"Thank you. For choosing me. Every day for forty years. For making me better. For loving me anyway."
Luca speaks, voice strong despite age. "Forty years ago, I was kidnapped. Should've hated you forever."
"But you made it impossible to hate you. You changed. Grew. Became my partner." His eyes shine. "You gave me family. Purpose. Love. Everything."
"So here we are. Forty years later. Still choosing each other."
"Still choosing you," I echo.
"Forever?" he asks.
"Forever," I promise.
We kiss—forty years of love in that touch.
That night, making love slowly (bodies old but hearts young), I'm overwhelmed.
"I love you," I breathe. "So much."
"Love you too. Always have. Always will."
We fall asleep tangled together—same position as forty years ago, bodies changed but love unchanged.
The next morning, Luca doesn't wake.
Peaceful in his sleep, hand in mine, smile on his face.
Gone.
The bond shatters. Pain explodes through me—worse than Marcus, worse than anything.
"No." I cradle him. "No, no, no. Luca. Baby. Wake up. Please wake up."
But he doesn't. Won't. Can't.
He's gone.
My mate. My love. My everything. Gone.
The howl that tears from me shakes the entire pack lands. Every wolf feels it—their Alpha's mate has died.
Kai arrives within minutes, finds me holding Luca, rocking him, begging him to come back.
"Dad," he says gently. "Dad, he's gone."
"I know." My voice breaks. "I know. But I can't let go."
"You have to."
"I can't. If I let go, it's real. If I hold him, he's still here."
Kai carefully, gently, helps me release Luca. My arms feel empty. Wrong.
The funeral is massive—the entire pack, neighboring packs, humans from his art school, everyone Luca touched in his forty years as my mate.
I can barely stand. The bond's absence is agony. But I speak anyway.
"Forty years ago, I kidnapped a human. Forced a bond. Did everything wrong." My voice shakes. "He should've hated me. Should've run the moment he could."
"But he didn't. He stayed. Chose me. Loved me." Tears stream down my face. "And he made me better. Made me worthy of his love."
I look at his casket—covered in paintings, flowers, memories.
"Luca taught me that love isn't force. It's choice. Every day choice. And he chose me. For forty years, he chose me."
"Thank you, my love. For everything. For our children. Our grandchildren. Our legacy. Our life." My voice breaks completely. "For loving me anyway."
Kai helps me sit. Luna and Asher hold my hands. Our grandchildren cry. Great-grandchildren don't understand why Grandpa Luca won't wake up.
Burying him next to where I'd planned my own grave, I finally say goodbye.
"I'll see you soon," I whisper. "Wait for me. Please."
Three Months Later
The bond's absence is killing me. Literally.
When an Alpha loses their mate, they typically follow within a year. The pain is too much. The emptiness too vast.
I'm ready. Ready to join Luca. Ready for the pain to stop.
But Kai won't let me give up.
"You need to stay," he insists. "For us. For the pack."
"I'm tired, son. So tired."
"I know. But we need you. I need you." His voice breaks. "Please, Dad. Don't leave us yet."
I try. For my children. For my grandchildren. For the pack.
But every day without Luca is agony.
Six Months Later
I'm in our room—unchanged since he died. His paintings still on the walls. His clothes still in the closet. His scent fading but still present.
"Hi, baby," I whisper to the empty room. "Miss you. So much."
I pick up his journal—the one he kept throughout our forty years. Reading his entries, his thoughts, his love.
"Ten years with Rian today. Best ten years of my life. Even with the terrible beginning, I wouldn't change it. He's my everything."
"Twenty-five years. Silver anniversary. Looking at him across the room, still so in love, I'm grateful for every moment. Even the forced ones. They led us here."
"Forty years tomorrow. Forty years of loving this impossible Alpha. No regrets. Not one. If I die tomorrow, I die happy. Completely, totally happy. He was worth everything."
I close the journal, crying.
He was happy. Our life made him happy.
That has to be enough.
One Year Later
The bond's echo finally fades. The pain becomes bearable. Not gone—never gone—but manageable.
I visit his grave daily. Talk to him. Update him on the family.
"Luna's pregnant again. Fourth grandchild for her. They're naming him Luca. After you." I trace his name on the headstone. "Kai's doing amazing as Alpha. Better than me, honestly. You'd be so proud."
"Asher just had twins. Our family keeps growing. Your legacy everywhere."
I sit beside his grave, feeling close to him here.
"I miss you. Every second of every day. But I'm surviving. Like you'd want me to." I smile through tears. "You made me strong enough to live without you. Even though I don't want to."
Five Years Later
I'm older. Weaker. The pack knows my time is coming.
"I'm ready," I tell Kai. "Ready to join your papa."
"I know, Dad." He hugs me carefully. "Thank you. For everything. For being the best father."
"Thank you for being the best son. All three of you." I look at my children—grown, strong, leading their own lives. "You made our life perfect."
That night, surrounded by family, I feel it—the bond stirring. Luca's presence, faint but real.
Rian, his voice echoes in my mind. I'm here. Waiting. Like I promised.
"Soon," I whisper. "Soon, my love."
Two Weeks Later
I'm dying. Peacefully. Naturally. Finally joining him.
My children and grandchildren surround my bed. I smile at them.
"Thank you," I tell them. "For forty-five years of love. For being our legacy."
"We love you, Dad," Kai says, crying.
"I love you all. So much." My voice is fading. "But I need to go now. Your papa's waiting."
I close my eyes.
The bond—dormant for five years—suddenly blazes to life.
Rian!
Luca's voice. Clear.
I'm here, baby. I'm coming.
The pain fades. The exhaustion lifts.
And there he is.
Young again. Beautiful. Glowing. Holding out his hand.
"Took you long enough," he teases.
"Had to make sure the kids were okay." I take his hand—solid, warm, real. "Missed you. So fucking much."
"Missed you too." He pulls me close. "But we're together now. Forever."
"Forever," I agree.
We fade together, hand in hand, into whatever comes next.
From Kai's Journal, One Year Later:
"Dad died peacefully, surrounded by family. His last words were 'I'm coming, Luca.' He smiled, squeezed my hand, and was gone."
"We buried him next to Papa, like he wanted. Their graves side by side, just like they slept for forty years."
"People ask if I'm angry about how they started—the forced claiming, the kidnapping. I'm not. Because it led to everything. To me. To my siblings. To our entire family."
"Dad taught me that love isn't perfect. It's messy, complicated, sometimes wrong. But if you fight for it, choose it every day, it becomes beautiful."
"Papa taught me that forgiveness is powerful. That choosing love, even when it starts wrong, can create something perfect."
"Together, they taught me what marriage should be. Partnership. Devotion. Choosing each other. Every single day."
"Forty-five years they had together. Not enough. But also perfect."
"I visit their graves weekly. Sometimes I swear I hear them—Dad's rumbling laugh, Papa's teasing response. Still bickering, still loving, even in death."
"That's what I want. What Derek and I are building. What all my siblings are building. Love that lasts beyond death."
"Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Papa. For showing us how."
"For loving each other so completely that it created generations of love."
"Your story started dark. But it ended in light."
THE END