All Chapters of Bound by the Moon: Alina's Destiny: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“Alina,” Alex’s voice whispered in my ear as she wrapped her arms around me. I could smell the booze on her breath.She’d already had a few drinks. She was already drunk, leaning heavily on me. “Come have a drink,” she slurred, pointing to the table where all the drinks were.I chuckled and sat down on the couch, grabbing a drink from the sea of options. Unfortunately, I knew that wouldn’t be enough to get me drunk.Fortunately, I had a secret source for werewolf potions that could enhance the effects.A few drops in each drink and I’d be partying all night, but it would take an hour to sober up. I carefully poured a few drops into my drink, watching as it mixed.Tonight I was going to let go and forget about the weight of the past two years.Raising Liam on my own during his terrible two’s, taking care of my bedridden mother and holding on to the last of her life, was exhausting.Tonight was going to be my escape from all that, or so I thought, until I saw Andrew. Just when I thought

The drive in Andrews’ limo was quiet and awkward. The tension between us was palpable. It was thicker than the snow on mount Everest.So thick an avalanche was bound to happen.“So you have a son?” He said. I could hear the pain in his voice. Making me remember how I over shared earlier.“yes” I said, not making eye contact looking out the widow as the raindrops start to run down the window. Reminding me of the day we parted.“Is the child mine?” He asked. I could feel his eyes on me waiting in anticipation. The question took me off guard.“No” I said.“Dont flatter yourself. It’s not like you're the only man I’ve ever been with,” I lied. Hoping it sounds like the truth. I looked over my shoulder at him, seeing his fist balled up tightly. I could see a few veins in his neck straining as he tries to keep himself calm.“Can we just stop at 134 acre street I need to pick up my child?” I asked, and he nodded at the driver. The drive there was painfully silent. When the car stopped at the

I was still trying to process the fact that my mother was gone.Dead.That alone felt impossible to accept. But now I had to wrap my head around something even worse—she hadn’t just died. She’d been murdered.Someone had taken her from me on purpose. The thought was like ice in my veins, too cold, too sharp. Why? Why would anyone do this?“Why would someone kill her?” I whispered. It was the only question I could manage, though it felt pointless because I knew no answer would ever make sense.My head was spinning. Every thought tangled into the next, leaving me drowning in this unbearable mess. On top of everything else, the cruel irony hit me like a slapin the face.The one person I’d despised most in my life was now the only one I could turn to.“Whoever it was has ties to the witches,” he said, his tone low and steady, though his jaw was clenched tight. His expression was distant, like he was putting together a puzzle only he could see.“The rune carved into your mother’s hand—it’s

"Your mom passed away, you nearly slept with a guy but stopped yourself multiple times, found out your life’s in danger, and then ran off with a man?And he just so happens to also be your baby daddy? Girl, your life is a whole soap opera,” Alex said, pacing back and forth across the room like she was trying to burn off the secondhand stress.She was my best friend, my ride-or-die, and honestly, the only person I trusted to hear all this madness.“And,” I added quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, “he doesn’t know about the baby daddy thing.”Alex froze mid-step, one foot still in the air, before slowly turning to look at me, her eyes wide as saucers. “Wait—what?” she practically screeched.“And then you stayed up all night with him? And now you’re, what, working on getting into a relationship with him? when are you going to tell him?”She threw her hands up in the air dramatically, like the absurdity of my life was physically too much for her to handle.I wasnt sure on when i wa

Two years earlier (Andrews pov):I woke up in a room that looked like a war zone.The wallpaper was hanging in strips, claw marks tearing through the faded design. Furniture , or what was left of it .Was splintered across the floor. It wasn’t broken, it was annihilated. As if someone had tried to erase it from existence.The windows were shattered, the frames bent and useless, holes in the walls like scars from some unspoken battle.The carpet was torn to shreds, great chunks ripped away, and blood was splattered everywhere painting the chaos in bold strokes.The sight hit something deep inside me. Memories I’d buried for years came flooding back, dragging me under like a riptide.I saw my father’s face again.The way it contorted in pain as those feral creatures tore him apart.His hand reached out to me, desperate, pleading for help. And I just stood there. Useless.I was weak then. I hadn’t even shifted.And when I finally did, it was too late I was nothing but a fumbling, fragile