I knelt to her level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Just one more short trip. We’re going to see Grandmother.”
Her eyes widened, “The Alpha? Your mommy?”
I nodded, surprised she remembered. “Yes, that’s right
Standing at the pack borders two hours later, I suddenly felt nervous about returning home. The ancient silver trees marking the territory’s edge seemed to watch me, judging my five–year absence.
Back then, for my sake, my parents had gone to meet Ethan.
“He has no spine,” my mother had said. “And no vision beyond his own desires.”
It was me who insisted on staying with him, defending him fiercely, even opening a shop together to prove we could build
something
“He needs time,” I had argued. “He’ll grow into the wolf I know he can be.”
Ethan always thought I accepted his secret marking because I loved him too much, that I was too humble to demand official
recognition. He believed I stayed because I couldn’t bear to be without him.
Little did he know, I never cared about the Mating Ceremony or the position of Luna. Those were Shadow Moon obsessions, not
mine.
Because I had grown up in what was known as the “Last Matriarchy,” as the Silver Crescent Alpha heir. My lineage stretched back
unbroken through seventeen generations of female Alphas.
Silver Crescent maintained the traditions of the last matriarchal clan, revering female wolves above all else. My mother was the
current Alpha of the pack – feared by enemies, beloved by her people.
Taking a deep breath, I held Lily’s hand and walked toward home, past the silver–barked trees that had given our pack its name.
Your grandmother carved her mark on that tree when she became Alpha,” I told Lily, pointing to a massive trunk bearing an
intricate spiral symbol. “And someday, you might carve yours.”
Lily stared in wonder. “Me? But I’m just a little girl.”
“You’re a Silver Crescent heir,” I corrected gently. “That’s not ‘just‘ anything.”
Along the way, childhood friends and elders greeted me with warm embraces and knowing looks. They treated me as if I had
never left, as if the past five years had been nothing more than a brief vacation.
No one asked about the mark on my neck that still hadn’t fully faded. No one mentioned Ethan’s name. They simply welcomed
me home.
When my mother saw me at the main pack house, she froze for just a moment, her regal composure slipping. Then tears streamed down her face as she rushed forward, wrapping me in an embrace that smelled of pine and home.
“My daughter,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “My heir has returned.”
2/3
+15 Bonus
She knelt to Lily’s level, studying her face with intense silver eyes. “And you’ve brought a miracle with you.”
Lily ducked behind my legs shyly, peeking out with curious eyes.
That evening, the whole family gathered noisily around the table for a reunion dinner. Cousins, aunts, uncles all of them
treating Lily like a long–awaited princess.
They served her first, offered her the choicest portions, asked her opinion on matters far beyond her years. It was Silver Crescent
tradition – the female line was sacred, and Lily represented its future.
Lily hadn’t experienced such family warmth in a long time. The stiffness that had characterized her at Shadow Moon melted away!
as she laughed with her new–found cousins. She squeezed my hand under the table and said:
“Mommy, I like it here. Everyone is so nice.”
I thought back to our life at Shadow Moon with a clarity that distance had finally granted me.
Back in Shadow Moon, Ethan’s grandmother had been almost harsh in her demands of me and Lily, treating us like servants
rather than family.
When they ate, we had to stand by and serve them. Lily wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to. I was expected to anticipate
needs before they were voiced.
When we ate, we endured constant criticism and instructions. “Sit straighter.” “Cut smaller pieces.” “A proper Luna would know
better.”
Thinking of this, I kissed my daughter’s soft little cheek, breathing in her sweet scent.
“Then we’ll stay here forever and never go back,” I promised, meaning every word.
My daughter nodded, her eyes bright with happiness, finally showing some childlike innocence again. For the first time in
months, she looked her age- a carefree child, not a silent little shadow trained to fade into the background.
Just then, my mother’s assistant – a wiry wolf named Cora who had been my own childhood guardian–rushed in from outside.
Her normally composed face was flushed with agitation:
“Autumn, come quickly and see!” she exclaimed, drawing all eyes to her.
Her next words dropped into the room like a stone into still water:
“That man who marked you is causing a scene outside the pack.
territory!”
