Page 86 of Moonlit Fate

“Stop!” I screamed, my voice echoing off the high ceilings as I rushed after them. Servants peered from behind doors, their eyes wide, but none dared to intervene.

I was close enough to reach out, to tear Seren from his grasp, when Larkin pivoted. With one arm holding Seren against him, his other hand now wrapped around my throat. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to immobilize two fully grown, well-trained shifters the way he had. Something about him smelled off—wrong—but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. His hand tightened around my neck, increasing the pressure, restricting my air supply, and causing my vision to fade around the edges. An unfamiliar power coursed through him, the dark promise of violence.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, his face inches from mine, his breath hot against my skin. “Or I’ll snap her neck.”

My body trembled. Not with fear, but with rage so strong, it threatened to consume me. Yet, within the storm of my emotions, a chilling droplet of reason whispered to let him leave.

“Go,” I breathed out, the word a shard of ice. “But this isn’t over. Seren, I’ll come for you.”

His smile was venomous as he released me, leaving a lingering imprint of his touch on my throat. I watched, helpless, as he disappeared around the corner with Seren, her screams fading into haunting silence.

I sank to the floor, my knees unable to support the weight of betrayal and loss. I’d let him leave. And with him, he’d taken a piece of my world.

21

ATTICUS

The den’s walls, once a haven, seemed to close in on me with an oppressive air. I could no longer keep my distance from Aria. I knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but the memory of her lying helpless and battered on the forest ground played relentlessly through my mind. Ragnar did not approve of me, but I was certain he wouldn’t hurt his daughter, not physically. Still, I thrummed with the need to ensure her well-being, to see her face and read the truth in her eyes.

Decision made, I pushed through the curtain at the entrance, intent on seeking her out. The crisp evening air greeted me as the sun dipped low, smearing the sky with streaks of red and gold. I took a step forward, ready to shift forms and move swiftly.

But then a figure emerged from the dimming woods, his silhouette cutting a familiar shape against the twilight. My whole body seized with pain I had buried deep, beneath layers of defiance.

As the figure stepped into the clearing, the late-evening sunlight pierced the canopy, illuminating a face from my past.Caius. The father who had chosen to side with the pack and exile me all those years ago. It had been a constant ache, a wound never allowed to heal. His visage, as stern as I remembered it, bore the marks of time and regret. His hair, once raven-black but now peppered with wisps of gray, framed a face hardened by years of leadership and loss.

I stood rooted to the spot. His presence here, at the threshold of my chosen exile, was completely, utterly unexpected.

“Atticus,” he said.

The rogue wolf in me stood alert, muscles tensed for whatever might come next. Though the desire to turn away was potent, the enigmatic pull of fate held me fast, demanding I confront my lineage head-on.

Our eyes locked—his, the color of the stormy sea; mine, a mirror of defiance—and in that silent exchange, we measured the chasm of years.

“Son,” he finally said.

“Father.” The term was foreign on my tongue. His sudden appearance, here at the boundary of my reclaimed territory, was a puzzle with pieces missing, an unbalanced equation. Yet beneath the shock, unresolved anger burned, threatening to ignite the dry tinder of past grievances.

“Years,” I said. “Years without a word, and now you stand before me.” I searched his face, looking for the lines of sorrow or perhaps contrition, but finding only the inscrutable mask of the alpha he once was.

Caius shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, years.”

Old pain shot through me, a phantom limb stirring at the sight of him. It was a horrible feeling I had buried deep—beneath my need to be alone, beneath the love and passion I’d found with Aria. But here, confronted with the ghost of my former life, those buried aches throbbed anew, demanding recognition.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said. “But there are matters we must discuss.”

My muscles tensed, my spirit bracing against the implications carried in his tone. This man had cast me out, deemed me unworthy. Did he truly believe he could waltz back into my reality as though no canyon lay between us?

“Talk?” My stance remained unyielding. “That’s something we never mastered, is it not?” I never looked away from the man, searching for any hint of sincerity behind his steely exterior, wondering if it could be possible that he’d changed.

“Indeed.” Though his posture remained unbroken, the briefest flash of sadness crossed his features, a crack in the façade of the unmovable patriarch. “Perhaps it is time we attempt it once more.”

The remembered sting of exile pierced through me, as vivid now as it had been all those years ago.

“May I come inside?” Caius asked.

For a moment, I considered denying him entry. But something in his eyes, a glimmer of earnestness or maybe even desperation, compelled me to step aside.

“Fine,” I said.

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