(Almira’s POV)The moment we got home, the twins were on me."Mom, who was that man?" Hazel asked, crossing her arms. "Why wouldn’t you talk to him?"I sighed, rubbing my temples. "It’s none of your concern.""None of our concern?" Asher scoffed. "He was looking right at us like he knew us.""Yeah, and you looked like you knew him too," Hazel added.I shook my head. "Drop it, both of you.""But I think I look like him." Asher’s voice was quieter this time, but his words hit me like a dagger. "I think… he’s our father."My breath caught.I looked at my son, his sharp eyes locked onto mine, demanding an answer I couldn’t give.My chest tightened.What are they implying?"That’s ridiculous," I muttered. "Now stop talking about it.""But—""Enough!" My voice cracked through the air, harsher than I intended.Hazel flinched. Asher clenched his jaw.I wanted to take it back, to say something softer, but before I could, a familiar voice cut through the tension."Alright, that’s enough for ton
(Lysander’s POV)I don't know how long I have been standing by the window, with both of my hands in my pockets, staring across the street.From here, through the massive glass wall of the house across from me, I see them. Almira sits on the couch, her silver blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she talks to the twins. Hazel leans against her, completely at ease, while Asher sits on the floor, fidgeting with something in his hands.They look… normal. Like a perfect little family.My family.But I’m not there.They’re right in front of me, yet I feel like I’m a world away.Behind me, Damon is talking to the real estate agent, handling the final details of the sale. The man chuckles, probably amused by how quickly I threw money at this deal.Five times the original price just to kick out whoever had already placed a deposit.A small price to pay.The man finally walks up to me, holding out the keys. I take them without a word. I could feel my fingers tightening around the cold metal.
(Reginald’s POV)I scanned through reports, but my mind isn’t on them. Something has felt off all morning.I’ve ruled this pack long enough to know when something isn’t right.And today, something is definitely not right.A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.*Tok!* *Tok!* *Tok!*“Enter,” I commanded.The door creaked open, and Beta Harold stepped inside, his face tight with unease. I arch a brow. My Beta doesn’t get rattled easily.“What is it?” I ask.“It’s Rachelle,” he says.I sigh, already irritated. “What has she done now?”“That’s the thing,” he hesitates. “She’s… changed.”I lean back in my chair, narrowing my eyes. “Changed how?”He exhales sharply. “She’s not acting like herself. The servants are talking about it. This morning, an Omega spilled water in front of her.”I wait for the part where Rachelle humiliated the poor girl, tore into her for being incompetent.“She smiled,” Harold says instead.I blink. “She what?”“She smiled. Told the Omega to be careful and w
(Lysander’s POV)[Three Days Later]I gripped the steering wheel, watching from a distance as Almira walked the twins toward the school entrance. She looked calm. Composed. Like she hadn’t seen me in Italy. Like I was just another face on the street.She was good at pretending. Too good.The kids disappeared inside. Almira lingered for a moment—just long enough to make me wonder if she’d sensed me—then turned and walked back to her car. No glance over her shoulder. No hesitation. She simply got in and drove off, like she had nothing to worry about.I let out a slow breath and raked a hand through my hair.I should leave too.Then I heard a voice, high and urgent.“Mom forgot her phone!”Hazel.She burst through the school doors, clutching a phone in her small hands. Her ponytail bounced as she ran, focused on the device, completely unaware of her surroundings.And then I saw it.A car, speeding down the road. Fast. Too fast.My heart stopped cold.Without thinking, I leapt from the ca
(Almira’s POV)I stormed through the daycare doors. The sound of my heels clicking hard against the tile floor. The moment I stepped inside, the staff looked up, their faces uneasy.They know why I’m here.“Where are my children?” My voice is sharp, my voice laced with venom.One of the teachers, a woman in her mid-forties with kind eyes, steps forward hesitantly. “Ms. Sinclair, we—”“Don’t,” I snapped, holding up a hand. “Don’t you dare try to explain anything to me. I dropped my children off this morning. I watched them walk inside. And now you’re telling me they’re not here?”Another teacher, a younger woman, wrings her hands. “We… we don’t know how they left. We checked the security footage, but there’s nothing—”“Nothing?!” I laughed bitterly, though there’s no humor in it. “You’re telling me that two four-year-olds just vanished into thin air?”“We’re so sorry, Ms. Sinclair,” the first teacher says softly. “We take full responsibility, and we’re already contacting—”“Oh, you bet
(Almira's POV)I don’t waste a single second. The moment I hang up, I’m out the door, practically sprinting to my car. The teachers call after me, but I don’t stop. I don’t have time for their apologies or excuses. My children are with him.With Lysander.The drive back to our exclusive village feels like a blur. My heart pounds so hard it rattles my ribs, and my fingers clench the steering wheel so tightly they ache.When I finally pull up in front of his house—his house—I barely register the sleek luxury car parked in the driveway or the fact that his place looks eerily similar to mine. All I see is my children.Hazel and Asher are in the front yard. Laughing.My anger stutters for a second because—what? They don’t look scared. They don’t look mistreated. They’re playing. Asher is even holding an expensive-looking toy, the kind I’d never buy because I know they’d grow tired of it in a week.Still, my fury doesn’t die. If anything, it grows stronger.I slam the car door shut and marc
(Almira’s POV)The drive home is silent. The twins sit in the back, holding their new toys. I catch glimpses of them through the rearview mirror—Hazel tracing patterns on the window, Asher staring at his lap, lost in thought. I know their young minds are full of questions, but for once, they don’t ask. Maybe they sense my stormy mood.My grip tightens around the steering wheel. My mind replays the scene at Lysander’s house over and over. His smug voice. The way he watched me. The way he called them our children.I want to scream.He has no right. No right to show up after all these years. No right to buy a house next to us. No right to see the kids and act as if he had ever been there for them.Yet, the way Hazel looked at him. The way Asher clenched his fists when I pulled them away. They felt something. A connection, a curiosity. My worst fear is already coming true—he’s planting himself in their world, slipping into their lives without my permission.I blink back my frustration and
(Lysander's POV)I lean against the window frame, eyes fixed on the house across the street.The blinds are half-closed, the curtains drawn just enough to make a statement—not fully shut, but not welcoming either. Still, I catch flashes of life through the narrow gaps. Hazel laughing, her voice faint but bright. Asher sitting silently with a book in his lap, the way his brow furrows in concentration achingly familiar. Little pieces of me, unknowingly on display, oblivious to the storm brewing just outside their fragile peace.Almira thinks she can shut me out. That she can erase me from the picture like I was never there to begin with.I take a slow sip of whiskey, letting the burn settle in my throat before shaking my head.She should know better by now.I’ve followed her across continents. Spent more money than I care to count. Broken rules—my own and others’—just to be close. Just to catch a glimpse of the life I should’ve had.She can run. She can hide.But I always find them.The
(Almira’s POV)The best way to catch a snake is to make it feel safe in the grass.So I pretend. I act like I’m softening. Like I believe Rachelle’s cooing and concern. I start inviting her more often to “bond” with the twins. I don’t hover—but I watch from a distance. I let her think she’s winning.Mid and I set everything carefully.We pick a day when Damon is out with the border patrol. The pack house is quiet. The kids are painting in the garden. I leave a worn leather journal on the garden bench—the one that supposedly contains notes about the twins’ powers and some fake “ritual symbols.”It’s bait.Rachelle arrives exactly on cue.“Almira,” she says, all sweet and surprised. “You’re letting them paint outside alone now?”I smile. “They’ve been so calm lately. I think it helps them feel… grounded.”She nods. “May I?” she gestures toward the kids.“Of course,” I say. “I’ll be in the herb room. Call if you need me.”I walk away slowly, but not too far.I wait.Minutes pass. Then I
(Almira’s POV)I don’t trust her smile.Not the one she gave my daughter when she asked if she liked painting, her voice all syrup and false warmth. Not the one she flashed at Asher when she offered him cookies she hadn’t even baked herself, pretending to care.And now, after what Mid told me… it all makes sense.She’s watching them. Not like children—but like riddles she’s desperate to solve. Every glance, every question, it’s calculated. Measured. Like she’s gathering data.I pace by the window, arms folded, eyes locked on the backyard. The kids are playing, completely unaware. So innocent. So normal. Asher’s shadow dances at his feet as he laughs, his joy loud and unfiltered. Hazel’s kneeling on the stones, drawing suns and hearts in chalk, her hair catching the light like strands of gold.
(Rachelle’s POV)They’re here.The twins. Almira’s children.I hear it from the servants before breakfast — whispered between dusting and folding towels. I’m sipping tea on the balcony, watching birds land on the railing like they know I’m in a mood.“Did you hear?” the younger one says, not knowing I’m listening. “The twins are back. Damon brought them straight to the Alpha’s quarters.”“Their mother too,” the older one adds, a little too loud. “She’s staying for a while.”I set my teacup down gently. The clink of porcelain is the only sound I allow.So, she’s here. Again.I rest a hand on my stomach, just enough to play the part. A gentle rub, a soft sigh. The baby bump is small, but it’s there. People soften when they see it. Men open doors. Women smile. It’s almost too easy.The first time I heard about the twins’ abilities, I didn’t believe it. It sounded like nonsense. Glowing eyes. Shadows that move. One of the servants even said Asher made a wolf go still just by looking at it
(Almira’s POV)The fortress looms just past the olive trees, half in ruins, half reinforced by tech that doesn’t belong in a place this ancient.Motion sensors. Night vision cams.No doubt, someone rich and dangerous has paid good money to make this dump invisible to regular eyes.We crouch behind the brush, breathing slow. Damon’s a few paces behind, watching the road. Lysander is too close to me for comfort.“You take the west wall,” I say. “I’ll go straight in.”He frowns. “You always want to be the bait, don’t you?”“I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”“Even me?”“Especially you.”His jaw tightens. “You really think I’d let anyone touch our kids?”“I think you’ve lied to me before,” I shoot back. “You’ve made decisions like you were the only one who mattered. Forgive me if I’m not thrilled to hand you my trust again.”He doesn’t respond. Maybe because I’m right.I don’t wait for his reply. I slip through the shadows, cloak pulled over my head, senses tuned to every sound. M
(Almira's POV)We arrive in Italy just before sunrise. Damon’s driving like he’s got fire in his veins, but it still feels too slow. Every minute my kids are out there with God knows who is a minute too long.As we pull up to Lysander’s estate, I see him already standing at the front steps like he’s been waiting. Of course he’s waiting. Perfect posture. Blank expression. Just like always.I don’t even let Damon stop the car fully before I jump out. My boots hit the ground hard, and I march straight toward him.“You’ve got nerve,” I say, arms crossed, staring him down. “Standing there like you didn’t just have my children taken.”Lysander raises an eyebrow. “Almira, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”“Don’t play innocent. You sent Damon to sniff around them. You’ve been poking into their lives without telling me. Now they’re gone. You really expect me to believe that’s a coincidence?”His eyes narrow. “I didn’t take them.”I let out a dry laugh. “Right. You just *happened* to be
(Reginald’s POV)The silver cage stands stark against the dim light filtering through the trees. It’s a place of containment, a carefully designed prison made to hold creatures like them. I stride toward it, the weight of authority heavy on my shoulders. Inside, the twins lay unconscious, their small bodies vulnerable against the cold metal.I watch as my men secure the locks, ensuring that the cage is impenetrable. They’ve been prepared for this moment for some time, but seeing it in action brings a strange satisfaction. These kids, with their inherited powers, will be the key to my strength and influence.“What now, Alpha?” one of my guards asks, looking between the twins and me.I consider them, each breath they take a reminder of their potential. “We wait. They’ll wake up soon enough. I want them to understand the power they possess—and what happens when they choose to defy it.”Another guard steps closer. “What if Almira comes looking for them?”I wave my hand dismissively. “Let
(Reginald’s POV)“Hold him tighter, damn it. He’s just a pup!”The guard stumbles, struggling to keep Asher pinned. The boy kicks and thrashes like a wild thing, teeth bared, his little body sparking with power. Impressive. Dangerous.“Let me go!” Asher yells, his voice cracking with rage.The other guard grips Hazel, who is crying now but still managing to bite down hard on the man’s wrist. He curses, shaking her off, blood dripping from his hand.I step out of the shadows, expression unreadable. My coat flaps in the wind, and the twins freeze when they see me.Asher’s eyes burn. “You—who are you? Let us go!”I don’t answer. I simply nod to the handler standing beside me. He pulls out the syringe.“No!” Asher screams, bucking harder. The first guard yells as Asher’s claws dig into his side. Blood spurts out. “Alpha—he’s—he’s too strong—”I step in and grab the boy’s jaw, holding him still.“Sorry, little wolf,” I say calmly. “Can’t have you tearing my men apart before we even get sta
(Almira’s POV)My body feels numb. My mind is screaming, but I can’t hear anything. Just the sound of the car speeding away, carrying my children—my whole world—with it.I can’t move.No. That’s a lie.I don’t want to move.Because the moment I move, it becomes real. The moment I let go of this frozen second, it means they’re gone. Really gone.“Asher… Hazel…”Their names fall from my lips like a prayer. Like a curse.A growl rises from deep inside me. Low at first, then louder. I shift back into my wolf form, my silver-white fur glowing under the pale sky. The blood of the rogues clings to my paws. I look at the remaining ones surrounding me.They’re not even running.They want to die.“Fine,” I whisper through the link. “Then die.”I charge.Something inside me snaps. I don’t hold back. I don’t think. I tear through flesh and muscle like paper. My power lashes out from my body—violent, chaotic, barely in control. The earth trembles beneath me. I don’t know what I’m doing, only that
(Almira’s POV)I feel the shift before it even happens. My bones crack. My skin stretches. My vision sharpens as fur replaces flesh. My white wolf form bursts through with a wave of raw power. Silver streaks shimmer under the moonlight. The cold air bites at my fur but it feels good. It feels alive.I growl low, steadying my stance. They're here.The wild rogues.One. Two. Six… nine of them. They charge without warning. No strategy. No hesitation. Just blind rage. Teeth bared. Claws out. Madness in their eyes.I leap at the first one. My jaws clamp around his shoulder and I slam him to the ground. He yelps but doesn’t stop. Another wolf barrels into me from the side, knocking me off balance.I hit the dirt hard, roll, and rise again.They keep coming.I swipe. Bite. Kick. Blood splashes across the ground but they don’t slow down. They don’t even seem to feel it.They’re not just wild. They’re… wrong.“Asher! Hazel!” I turn quickly to check on the kids. They’re still in the car, wide-e