The spark haunted me. It was such a small thing—just a brush of hands—but the shock it sent through me lingered, refusing to let me forget. The last time I’d felt anything like that was when I met Ashton. The realization made my stomach churn. It wasn’t possible. Jake had a mate, and I’d had a mate. The universe didn’t just go around handing out second chances like party favors. “Get a grip, Ayla,” I muttered to myself, pacing my room. But the memory of Jake’s gray eyes, wide with confusion, kept replaying in my mind. I couldn’t make sense of it, and the more I thought about it, the more my head spun. I flopped onto the bed, groaning. “Just let it go.” And I decided to do exactly that. I would focus on the twins, settle into this new life, and leave the spark in the past where it belonged. The next morning, I resolved to shake off the weirdness by doing something productive. The pack grounds were alive with activity as I stepped outside, the crisp air invigorating me. I’
I was up early, as always, feeding the twins their breakfast. Lily sat in her highchair, grinning as she smeared oatmeal on her face, while Logan banged his spoon against the table like he was conducting a symphony. “Are you trying to give me a headache, Logan?” I teased, wiping a bit of oatmeal off his cheek. He gurgled in response, and Lily burst into giggles. The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the dining room. I didn’t mind these moments; in fact, I cherished them. Taking care of these little ones felt natural, like I’d been doing it forever. Jake, on the other hand, sat silently at the head of the table, sipping his coffee. His presence filled the room, commanding without trying, but his attention wasn’t on us. He seemed to be lost in his own world. I hesitated as I glanced his way, trying to summon the courage to say what was on my mind. The tension between us had been unbearable since the training field… and that spark. My wolf
The knock on my door came just as I was attempting to gather my thoughts. My heart was still racing from the storm of emotions that had overtaken me last night in the shower. Jake’s possessiveness, his touch, his kiss… it haunted me in ways I didn’t want to admit. I took a deep breath, smoothed my hair, and opened the door. Sophie stood there, her usual warm smile faltering slightly as she studied my face. “Ayla? Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I lied quickly, plastering on the most convincing smile I could manage. Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t push. “If you say so. But listen, I have a favor to ask. Could you watch the twins tonight? I have a few things I need to take care of, and they’ve been restless lately. They might sleep better with you.” The thought of being with Lily and Logan brought an instant wave of comfort. “Of course,” I said, my smile more genuine this time. “I’d love to.” Sophie’s shoulders relaxed, and she gave me a grateful nod. “Thank you, Ayla. You’re r
The pack was a storm of activity. People hurried through the halls, warriors arming themselves with blades and armor, and the air buzzed with tension. The commotion pulled me from my restless thoughts, and I stepped out into the corridor, catching snippets of conversation. “Alpha Jake is preparing to leave,” someone murmured. “A neighboring pack has been attacked.” I frowned, unease curling in my stomach. Why was I so bothered by this? He was an Alpha; of course, he had responsibilities beyond these walls. Still, the thought of him leaving, of stepping into danger, made my chest tighten. “Keep it together,” I muttered under my breath. “Why should you care? He despises you.” But my wolf stirred restlessly, her voice echoing in my mind. 'He’s our mate. He shouldn’t go.' “Stop it,” I whispered fiercely. “That’s not possible. He’s not my mate. He had a mate.” 'He is. You know it.' I shook my head, trying to push the thought away, but it clung to me like a stubborn shadow
The packhouse buzzed with news of Jake’s return before dawn, but it wasn’t the triumphant homecoming you’d expect from an Alpha. Instead, the whispers carried fragments of worry. Injured. Distant. Refusing medical help.I waited anxiously in the common area, pacing back and forth as the sun rose higher. I told myself it was because of the twins—that they’d missed their father. That was my excuse, anyway. When the heavy oak doors finally creaked open, the sight of him hit me harder than I expected. Jake strode in, tall and proud as ever, but his movements were stiff, his expression carved from stone. Blood smeared his shirt, and his left arm hung limply at his side. “Jake—” “Alpha,” he corrected coldly, his voice like a blade. The sharpness made me pause, but I squared my shoulders. “You’re hurt. Let me—” “I don’t need your help,” he snapped, brushing past me. I turned and followed him, frustration bubbling up. “You’re bleeding, Jake. This is ridiculous. At least let Sophie
The morning light spilled through the nursery windows, painting the room in soft gold. I sat cross-legged on the floor, Lily’s tiny hand in mine as she babbled away, a mess of syllables and giggles that made my heart swell. Logan was nearby, gnawing on a teething ring like it was his greatest nemesis. “They’re going to be geniuses,” I declared, ruffling Logan’s dark hair. “Just look at them. Babbling at six months? They’ll be discussing philosophy by the time they’re two.” Lily squealed, smacking my arm, and I laughed. As I turned to grab their favorite stuffed animals from the pile beside me, a prickle ran up my spine. That unmistakable sensation of being watched. Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder—and there he was. Jake. Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on me and the twins. For a moment, I froze, caught in the intensity of his gaze. But then, a smile tugged at my lips, and I gave him a little wave. Jake’s lips twitched like he was fighting
The day had been heavy from the start. The air in the packhouse carried a palpable tension, as if the walls themselves were mourning. Even the twins seemed subdued, their usual giggles replaced by soft coos as I played with them in the nursery. I had overheard Sophie earlier, speaking in hushed tones to Chris about the approaching anniversary of Priscilla’s death. That explained Jake’s mood—or, more accurately, the storm cloud hovering over him. I hated how his pain bled into everyone else’s lives, turning the warm packhouse into a place of icy silence. I couldn’t fix his grief, but I could try to lift the pack’s spirits, if only for a moment. So I busied myself in the kitchen, deciding to cook a feast for everyone. --- The dining table was a masterpiece by the time I was done. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, and a rich berry tart sat in the center of the table. The twins were in their high chairs, babbling excitedly, and Sophie gave me a warm smile
ALPHA JAKE The first thing I noticed when I woke up that morning was her scent. It lingered everywhere. In the hallways, in the kitchen, even in my office. Sweet and maddening, like wild jasmine after a rainstorm. It clung to my clothes, settled in my mind, and refused to let me focus on anything else. Ayla. The second chance mate I never asked for. The second chance mate I didn’t deserve. I sat in my office, nursing my second glass of whiskey before the sun had even set. It wasn’t helping. It never did. The anniversary of Priscilla’s death loomed over me like a shadow, pulling me back to memories I fought to bury every single day. Her laugh, her scent, her touch—all of it had been mine, and then it was gone in a flash of blood and betrayal. And now, the Moon Goddess had the audacity to throw Ayla into my life. A woman who looked at me like I was something worth saving, who smiled as if the world hadn’t chewed her up and spat her out. I didn’t want her smiles.
The eerie stillness of the night was what woke me. At first, I thought it was just a bad dream, a shadow of paranoia lingering from Jake’s harsh words earlier. But there was something else—an unmistakable heaviness in the air, like the quiet before a storm. My heart began to pound, my wolf restless beneath my skin. Something wasn’t right. I swung my legs over the bed, pulling on a light robe as I crept toward the door. The hallway was quiet, the packhouse wrapped in the kind of silence that felt unnatural. As I neared the nursery, the faintest noise—a shuffle—set my nerves ablaze. I froze, straining to hear. There it was again, like someone deliberately trying to move quietly. My breath hitched. Without thinking, I pushed the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight sent a jolt of terror through me. A dark-cloaked figure stood by the twins’ cribs, their posture predatory. “No!” I burst into the room, my voice trembling with both fear and fury. “Get away from them!” Th
The room buzzed with warmth and laughter, the kind that felt rare and precious in the packhouse. Sophie had just finished recounting a ridiculous story about tripping over her own feet during a pack hunt, and Fatima, for once, wasn’t biting back a cutting remark. Instead, she chuckled softly while rocking Lily, who was half-asleep in her arms. “This is nice,” I said, letting my head rest against the arm of the sofa. Logan, in Sophie’s lap, was gnawing on a teething ring, his little fists gripping it with determination. “It is,” Sophie agreed, her hair glowing in the soft lamplight. “We don’t get many moments like this, do we?” Fatima nodded, though her expression turned more serious. “And we probably won’t if we don’t address the elephant in the room.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” Fatima looked at me pointedly. “Jake. The twins. Whatever it is you think is going on with them—don’t you think he deserves to know?” I tensed immediately. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to
The packhouse was unusually quiet as I sat on the plush carpet in the twins’ nursery. The sun streamed through the wide windows, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. Elias and Elara were sprawled out on their tummies, giggling at the ridiculous faces I was making to entertain them. “Come on, you two,” I cooed, lifting a soft toy in the air and shaking it playfully. “Are you going to crawl for me today? Or are you just going to laugh at my efforts, hmm?” Elias responded with a squeal, his tiny hand smacking the floor enthusiastically, while Elara’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. My heart swelled as I watched them. They were growing so quickly, and every moment spent with them felt like a gift. The sound of the door opening made me glance up. Sophie walked in, her ever-present warmth lighting up the room. “There you are,” she said with a smile. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to. What’s happening here?” “Just the usual,” I said with a grin. “Trying to convince these
The morning air carried the usual bustle of the packhouse, and yet, I felt on edge. Ever since Jake marked me, my emotions had been a storm. The bond was a constant hum in the back of my mind, connecting me to him in ways I didn’t fully understand. And while Sophie was her usual cheerful self, others—like Fatima—seemed to be watching me with something closer to disdain.I couldn’t quite blame her. She’d been so close to Priscilla, the former Luna, and now I was here, unasked for and unwanted, wearing a title that clearly didn’t sit well with her.Still, I had to try.Carrying a basket of herbs, I stepped into the kitchen, determined to help prepare breakfast for the pack. Maybe contributing would show them that I wasn’t here to replace anyone—that I only wanted to help.Fatima stood by the counter, chopping vegetables with a precision that bordered on aggression. Her eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to her task.“Good morning,” I said, forcing a smile.Her response was a lo
AYLA'S POV When I woke up, the first thing I felt was the searing ache on my neck. The bond. The bond that wasn’t supposed to happen. I shot up in bed, my hand flying to the spot where Jake had marked me the night before. The skin was still tender, the faint impression of his teeth unmistakable. I groaned, running my fingers over it as flashes of last night flooded my mind—his lips, his growl, the way he’d claimed me with such primal certainty. I’d always thought being marked would feel magical, like a spark lighting my soul, but this? This was chaos, heat, and hunger. 'What have you done, Jake?' What had 'I' done? I stumbled out of bed, pulling my hair over my shoulder to cover the mark. Maybe no one would notice. Maybe it would all go away. But it wouldn’t, because I could feel him now. His emotions, his turmoil—it all pressed against my consciousness, as if a part of him had rooted itself inside me. Even though he was avoiding me, I could feel his tension
ALPHA JAKE The first thing I noticed when I woke up that morning was her scent. It lingered everywhere. In the hallways, in the kitchen, even in my office. Sweet and maddening, like wild jasmine after a rainstorm. It clung to my clothes, settled in my mind, and refused to let me focus on anything else. Ayla. The second chance mate I never asked for. The second chance mate I didn’t deserve. I sat in my office, nursing my second glass of whiskey before the sun had even set. It wasn’t helping. It never did. The anniversary of Priscilla’s death loomed over me like a shadow, pulling me back to memories I fought to bury every single day. Her laugh, her scent, her touch—all of it had been mine, and then it was gone in a flash of blood and betrayal. And now, the Moon Goddess had the audacity to throw Ayla into my life. A woman who looked at me like I was something worth saving, who smiled as if the world hadn’t chewed her up and spat her out. I didn’t want her smiles.
The day had been heavy from the start. The air in the packhouse carried a palpable tension, as if the walls themselves were mourning. Even the twins seemed subdued, their usual giggles replaced by soft coos as I played with them in the nursery. I had overheard Sophie earlier, speaking in hushed tones to Chris about the approaching anniversary of Priscilla’s death. That explained Jake’s mood—or, more accurately, the storm cloud hovering over him. I hated how his pain bled into everyone else’s lives, turning the warm packhouse into a place of icy silence. I couldn’t fix his grief, but I could try to lift the pack’s spirits, if only for a moment. So I busied myself in the kitchen, deciding to cook a feast for everyone. --- The dining table was a masterpiece by the time I was done. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, and a rich berry tart sat in the center of the table. The twins were in their high chairs, babbling excitedly, and Sophie gave me a warm smile
The morning light spilled through the nursery windows, painting the room in soft gold. I sat cross-legged on the floor, Lily’s tiny hand in mine as she babbled away, a mess of syllables and giggles that made my heart swell. Logan was nearby, gnawing on a teething ring like it was his greatest nemesis. “They’re going to be geniuses,” I declared, ruffling Logan’s dark hair. “Just look at them. Babbling at six months? They’ll be discussing philosophy by the time they’re two.” Lily squealed, smacking my arm, and I laughed. As I turned to grab their favorite stuffed animals from the pile beside me, a prickle ran up my spine. That unmistakable sensation of being watched. Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder—and there he was. Jake. Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on me and the twins. For a moment, I froze, caught in the intensity of his gaze. But then, a smile tugged at my lips, and I gave him a little wave. Jake’s lips twitched like he was fighting
The packhouse buzzed with news of Jake’s return before dawn, but it wasn’t the triumphant homecoming you’d expect from an Alpha. Instead, the whispers carried fragments of worry. Injured. Distant. Refusing medical help.I waited anxiously in the common area, pacing back and forth as the sun rose higher. I told myself it was because of the twins—that they’d missed their father. That was my excuse, anyway. When the heavy oak doors finally creaked open, the sight of him hit me harder than I expected. Jake strode in, tall and proud as ever, but his movements were stiff, his expression carved from stone. Blood smeared his shirt, and his left arm hung limply at his side. “Jake—” “Alpha,” he corrected coldly, his voice like a blade. The sharpness made me pause, but I squared my shoulders. “You’re hurt. Let me—” “I don’t need your help,” he snapped, brushing past me. I turned and followed him, frustration bubbling up. “You’re bleeding, Jake. This is ridiculous. At least let Sophie