“Isabella,” he said, his tone low and firm, “you make the rules here. You break them. No one is superior to you—not Marcus, not me, not anyone in this pack.” The weight of his words settled over me, heavy and unfamiliar. “But… the rules exist for a reason,” I argued weakly, my voice wavering. “And sometimes,” he said, glancing at me briefly, “those rules don’t account for the unique situations we face. That’s why you’re the Luna. To lead. To make the hard calls. The pack looks to you for guidance, not to follow every rule blindly.” I shook my head, my chest tight. “I don’t feel like a Luna,” I admitted. “I don’t feel like someone they should look up to.” Aiden’s hand tightened slightly on my thigh, his warmth seeping through the fabric of my jeans. “That’s because you keep doubting yourself,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re still thinking like an outsider. But you’re not anymore. You’re one of us, Isabella. More than that, you’re the luna, my mate. It’s time you start actin
The drive to the orphanage was quiet. The mood we had woken up with had been ruined, leaving a tension thick enough to slice through. I could see Aiden’s jaw tightening every few seconds, a telltale sign of his internal struggle. He was controlling himself—for me, I knew that much. It was his way. Always measured, always holding back. The world outside the window blurred past, a mix of early autumn trees and gray skies, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. My chest felt heavy, guilt coiling tight around my ribs. After fifteen minutes of silence, the tension became unbearable. I glanced over at him and then back at the passing scenery, forcing myself to speak. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, my voice barely breaking the stillness. Aiden’s eyes flicked toward me, his expression unreadable. His gaze returned to the road almost instantly. “For what?” he asked, his tone polite but distant, as though he were forcing himself to remain calm. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “For putting you in
As spring began to thaw the chill of winter, the team found a temporary respite from their relentless battle against the Black Sun. The fortress in the Pyrenees had been dismantled, and the immediate threat of The Ascendancy had been averted. However, the remnants of the dark network remained a persistent threat, and the team’s mission was far from complete. In their base, the atmosphere was a mix of cautious optimism and ongoing vigilance. The team had succeeded in disrupting the Black Sun’s most recent plans, but their influence was still widespread. The remnants continued to operate in the shadows, their intentions shrouded in secrecy. Isabella, Clyde, Elise, Alessandro, and Marta gathered in the war room, reviewing their latest intelligence. The walls were covered with maps, photographs, and documents detailing the Black Sun’s remaining operatives and activities. Elise, looking over a set of decrypted messages, spoke with concern. “We’ve uncovered several new locations tied to
Aiden’s hand was firm around mine, grounding me when my legs threatened to buckle under the weight of anticipation. The creak of the iron gates of the orphanage echoed through my chest, rattling my nerves. Each step felt like walking through molasses, my body betraying me despite my mind’s desperate commands to move forward.“Relax, Isabella, or you’re going to scare them,” Aiden said softly, his voice like a warm breeze cutting through the storm inside me. His lips curved into a slight smile, though I could see the undercurrent of concern in his gaze.I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, clutching his arm as if letting go would pull me back into the void of uncertainty. Aiden took the first step inside, and I followed, my breath hitching with every inch closer to the truth.The orphanage hadn’t changed much, at least not from what I remembered in fragments—peeling paint on the walls, the faint scent of lavender detergent that lingered in the air, and the distant sound of chi
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the orphanage in hues of orange and pink, my mother stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of hesitancy and determination. “Will you both stay for dinner?” she asked, her voice carrying a hopeful note that tugged at my heart.I glanced at Aiden, expecting resistance. He was a man of particular habits, unaccustomed to impromptu changes or the chaotic warmth of my past life. But to my surprise, he nodded. “We’d love to,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring.My mother’s smile lit up her face, and something inside me unfurled—a tension I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll set up the dining hall.”As she turned to make preparations, I felt Aiden’s hand squeeze mine briefly. “Are you happy?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.“Yes,” I replied, more to convince myself than him. “It’ll be good to catch up with everyone.”He nodded, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer before he releas
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the orphanage in hues of orange and pink, my mother stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of hesitancy and determination. “Will you both stay for dinner?” she asked, her voice carrying a hopeful note that tugged at my heart. I glanced at Aiden, expecting resistance. He was a man of particular habits, unaccustomed to impromptu changes or the chaotic warmth of my past life. But to my surprise, he nodded. “We’d love to,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. My mother’s smile lit up her face, and something inside me unfurled—a tension I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll set up the dining hall.” As she turned to make preparations, I felt Aiden’s hand squeeze mine briefly. “Are you happy?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress. “Yes,” I replied, more to convince myself than him. “It’ll be good to catch up with everyone.” He nodded, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer before he r
As we settled around the table, the buzz of conversation filling the room, I began to share my journey or should I say the lies I had build in my mind just in case for the moments like these. I spoke of the cities and the sights, my words painting a picture of freedom and discovery. But I carefully chose my words, the reasons why I had really left, and the secrets that Aiden and I shared. Aiden, meanwhile, ate quietly, his presence a steady calm next to my animated storytelling. Every now and then, he would chime in with a comment or a clarification, his voice smooth and engaging. The group was visibly taken with him, their questions turning from my travels to how we had met. “It’s actually quite a story,” Aiden began, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “You see, Isabella literally bumped into me in a coffee shop.” Laughter rippled around the table, and I felt a bubble of laugh making its way to my throat at the thought of Aiden making up a story of how we met. “I w
**Isabella**Life, as I’ve known it, has always had a way of balancing out the good with the bad. Raised in an orphanage, I learned early on that joy was something you created for yourself, even when the world seemed intent on stripping it away. The women who took care of me would often say that I was the most joyful child they’d ever seen, always smiling, always hopeful. I suppose that’s because I’ve always believed that life, no matter how harsh, had to be balanced by something good—something worth holding onto.But today, as I walk through the dense woods with the sun slowly setting behind the trees, I can’t shake the feeling that the balance I’ve always relied on is about to tip in a way I’m not ready for.The forest is familiar to me, a place of solace where I can escape the noise and chaos of the orphanage. But today, the air feels different—heavier, somehow, and filled with a tension I can’t quite place. The cool breeze carries the scent of pine and damp earth, a smell I usuall
As we settled around the table, the buzz of conversation filling the room, I began to share my journey or should I say the lies I had build in my mind just in case for the moments like these. I spoke of the cities and the sights, my words painting a picture of freedom and discovery. But I carefully chose my words, the reasons why I had really left, and the secrets that Aiden and I shared. Aiden, meanwhile, ate quietly, his presence a steady calm next to my animated storytelling. Every now and then, he would chime in with a comment or a clarification, his voice smooth and engaging. The group was visibly taken with him, their questions turning from my travels to how we had met. “It’s actually quite a story,” Aiden began, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “You see, Isabella literally bumped into me in a coffee shop.” Laughter rippled around the table, and I felt a bubble of laugh making its way to my throat at the thought of Aiden making up a story of how we met. “I w
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the orphanage in hues of orange and pink, my mother stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of hesitancy and determination. “Will you both stay for dinner?” she asked, her voice carrying a hopeful note that tugged at my heart. I glanced at Aiden, expecting resistance. He was a man of particular habits, unaccustomed to impromptu changes or the chaotic warmth of my past life. But to my surprise, he nodded. “We’d love to,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. My mother’s smile lit up her face, and something inside me unfurled—a tension I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll set up the dining hall.” As she turned to make preparations, I felt Aiden’s hand squeeze mine briefly. “Are you happy?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress. “Yes,” I replied, more to convince myself than him. “It’ll be good to catch up with everyone.” He nodded, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer before he r
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the orphanage in hues of orange and pink, my mother stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of hesitancy and determination. “Will you both stay for dinner?” she asked, her voice carrying a hopeful note that tugged at my heart.I glanced at Aiden, expecting resistance. He was a man of particular habits, unaccustomed to impromptu changes or the chaotic warmth of my past life. But to my surprise, he nodded. “We’d love to,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring.My mother’s smile lit up her face, and something inside me unfurled—a tension I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Wonderful,” she said. “I’ll set up the dining hall.”As she turned to make preparations, I felt Aiden’s hand squeeze mine briefly. “Are you happy?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.“Yes,” I replied, more to convince myself than him. “It’ll be good to catch up with everyone.”He nodded, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer before he releas
Aiden’s hand was firm around mine, grounding me when my legs threatened to buckle under the weight of anticipation. The creak of the iron gates of the orphanage echoed through my chest, rattling my nerves. Each step felt like walking through molasses, my body betraying me despite my mind’s desperate commands to move forward.“Relax, Isabella, or you’re going to scare them,” Aiden said softly, his voice like a warm breeze cutting through the storm inside me. His lips curved into a slight smile, though I could see the undercurrent of concern in his gaze.I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, clutching his arm as if letting go would pull me back into the void of uncertainty. Aiden took the first step inside, and I followed, my breath hitching with every inch closer to the truth.The orphanage hadn’t changed much, at least not from what I remembered in fragments—peeling paint on the walls, the faint scent of lavender detergent that lingered in the air, and the distant sound of chi
As spring began to thaw the chill of winter, the team found a temporary respite from their relentless battle against the Black Sun. The fortress in the Pyrenees had been dismantled, and the immediate threat of The Ascendancy had been averted. However, the remnants of the dark network remained a persistent threat, and the team’s mission was far from complete. In their base, the atmosphere was a mix of cautious optimism and ongoing vigilance. The team had succeeded in disrupting the Black Sun’s most recent plans, but their influence was still widespread. The remnants continued to operate in the shadows, their intentions shrouded in secrecy. Isabella, Clyde, Elise, Alessandro, and Marta gathered in the war room, reviewing their latest intelligence. The walls were covered with maps, photographs, and documents detailing the Black Sun’s remaining operatives and activities. Elise, looking over a set of decrypted messages, spoke with concern. “We’ve uncovered several new locations tied to
The drive to the orphanage was quiet. The mood we had woken up with had been ruined, leaving a tension thick enough to slice through. I could see Aiden’s jaw tightening every few seconds, a telltale sign of his internal struggle. He was controlling himself—for me, I knew that much. It was his way. Always measured, always holding back. The world outside the window blurred past, a mix of early autumn trees and gray skies, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. My chest felt heavy, guilt coiling tight around my ribs. After fifteen minutes of silence, the tension became unbearable. I glanced over at him and then back at the passing scenery, forcing myself to speak. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, my voice barely breaking the stillness. Aiden’s eyes flicked toward me, his expression unreadable. His gaze returned to the road almost instantly. “For what?” he asked, his tone polite but distant, as though he were forcing himself to remain calm. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “For putting you in
“Isabella,” he said, his tone low and firm, “you make the rules here. You break them. No one is superior to you—not Marcus, not me, not anyone in this pack.” The weight of his words settled over me, heavy and unfamiliar. “But… the rules exist for a reason,” I argued weakly, my voice wavering. “And sometimes,” he said, glancing at me briefly, “those rules don’t account for the unique situations we face. That’s why you’re the Luna. To lead. To make the hard calls. The pack looks to you for guidance, not to follow every rule blindly.” I shook my head, my chest tight. “I don’t feel like a Luna,” I admitted. “I don’t feel like someone they should look up to.” Aiden’s hand tightened slightly on my thigh, his warmth seeping through the fabric of my jeans. “That’s because you keep doubting yourself,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re still thinking like an outsider. But you’re not anymore. You’re one of us, Isabella. More than that, you’re the luna, my mate. It’s time you start actin
The drive to the orphanage was quiet. The mood we had woken up with had been ruined, leaving a tension thick enough to slice through. I could see Aiden’s jaw tightening every few seconds, a telltale sign of his internal struggle. He was controlling himself—for me, I knew that much. It was his way. Always measured, always holding back.The world outside the window blurred past, a mix of early autumn trees and gray skies, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. My chest felt heavy, guilt coiling tight around my ribs. After fifteen minutes of silence, the tension became unbearable. I glanced over at him and then back at the passing scenery, forcing myself to speak.“I’m sorry,” I said softly, my voice barely breaking the stillness.Aiden’s eyes flicked toward me, his expression unreadable. His gaze returned to the road almost instantly. “For what?” he asked, his tone polite but distant, as though he were forcing himself to remain calm.I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “For putting you in a ti
Just as we were about to leave the table, Marcus entered the room. The first thing his eyes caught was our intertwined fingers. I instinctively tried to pull my hand back, but Aiden tightened his grip, his fingers pressing firmly against mine as though silently daring me to let go.Marcus raised a brow, his lips curving into a knowing smirk as he cleared his throat. “Someone is clearly in a good mood after whipping everyone’s ass,” he drawled.Aiden rolled his eyes, the action subtle but unmistakable. “Oh, please,” he muttered, his tone dripping with irritation.We both knew what Marcus was referring to. Aiden had spent the better part of past two weeks commanding everyone on how to deal with Darius. The tension between him and Darius was palpable, almost suffocating at times. I had told him countless times to forget about the man, to let it go, but Aiden had been resolute. I could still remember the dangerous glint in his eyes as he’d said, “I would never forgive anyone for touching