As they crossed into Raven's Flock territory, the tension in the car shifted. The dense, familiar forest wrapped around them like a protective shroud, the towering evergreens whispering in the wind. And when they finally pulled up to the grand pack house, the sight of it—warmly lit, bustling with anticipation—made something tighten in Nyma's chest.
They were waiting for her.
The gates of Raven's Flock loomed ahead, wrought iron twisted into the shape of outstretched wings. As the car rolled to a stop, Nyma's breath caught—the scent of pine and hearth smoke wrapped around her like a forgotten embrace.
Six months.
Six months since she'd stood here as Adrain had come after her with a proposal of marriage for her. Sealing her fate with him from mates to soulmates for all life.
Six months since she had left this place as a Luna-to-be, glowing with hope, believing in the promises whispered against her skin. Six months since her parents had beamed with pride, believing they had sent their daughter into a future of strength, of love, of forever.
Now, she returned carrying their grandchild—and a shattered bond.
The front doors of their pack house came into view before Kael could cut the engine.
Her mother, Luna Elara, stood at the top of the steps, regal as ever, her long silver-streaked hair cascading over her shoulders. Alpha Cedric, her father, towered beside her, his proud, battle-worn stance betraying the deep worry in his stormy eyes.
Aunt Amelia, the pack's Beta Female, was at Elara's side, her sharp gaze scanning Nyma's face the moment she stepped out of the car, their faces alight with excitement—until they saw Nyma's face. Somewhere nearby, the Beta, her uncle, barked orders to warriors ensuring the perimeter was secure.
Elara was moving before Nyma could open the car door. Then, as the car door clicked shut behind her, there was a beat of silence.
"My daughter," Luna Elara breathed, stepping forward, her voice trembling with both relief and sorrow.
Nyma had sworn she would not break. That she would hold herself together. But at that moment, as her mother wrapped her in an embrace that smelled of home, of safety, of love…
The walls she had built started to crack. Her mothers' hands—strong healer's hands—cradled Nyma's face, thumbs brushing away tears Nyma hadn't realised she'd shed. "What's happened?" Isn't Nyma fine just yesterday? They were at her baby shower, there had been laughter. Her daughter had been the perfect Luna and wife proudly attending all with her belly as the pack celebrated their future heir.
Luna Elara's eyes widened, and then she held her tighter. "Oh, my sweet girl…" What could've gone wrong?
Nyma clutched at her mother, fists twisting into the fabric of her sleeves like a child seeking refuge from a storm. She couldn't stop. The sobs came fast, uncontrollable in an instant.
Kael was there in the next moment, his broad frame solid beside Raina. Their mother looked at them but they had no answers to give. So Elara just caress Nyma on her back, grounding, unwavering.
But Alpha Cedric… Cedric was silent. Watching. Waiting. Then, in the stillness, he asked the only question that mattered. "Where is Prince Adrain?"
Nyma's breath hitched.
Alpha Cedric stepped forward, his Alpha presence commanding, but his voice was gentle. "Nyma." A pause. A father's concern, unspoken but deafening. "Tell us. What happened?"
Nyma squeezed her eyes shut. How could she?
How could she tell them that the marriage they had blessed had been built on a foundation that had crumbled? That the man they had trusted with her future had betrayed her in the most irreparable way? That their grandchild—their future Alpha—was returning home without a father to claim them?
Elara cupped her daughter's face again, forcing Nyma to meet her gaze.
"Sweetheart," she whispered, soft but firm, "Did someone from royals troubled you?"
Kael stepped forward, Raina hovering at his shoulder. "Father, Mother perhaps we should—let her rest for tonight."
Amelia cut through the tension with a clap of her hands. "Right, right! Can't you see she's exhausted?" Her plump hands fluttered over Nyma's belly. "And starving! Come, my niece. I've made your favorite honey cakes."
As they ushered her inside, Nyma caught the way her father's gaze lingered on the moonstone locket—and the way his eyes darkened with recognition.
The night air was crisp, laced with the scent of pine and the distant embers of a hearth fire. Raven's Flock Pack House was alive with quiet celebration—pack members rejoicing at Nyma's return, murmuring about the grandchild she carried, their voices filled with hope.
Hope. It was suffocating.
Nyma had held herself together through the dinner, through her mother's gentle fussing and her father's proud, approving nods. She had let Aunt Amelia run warm hands over her stomach, whispering ancient Luna blessings, and had met the soft, knowing gaze of her brother Kael, who had said nothing.
But now, finally alone in the room they had prepared for her—her old room, untouched since she had left—Nyma felt it all come crashing down.
The door shut behind her with a quiet click, sealing her away from their expectations, their love, their blind faith in a marriage that had already crumbled.
Her chest heaved.
Her fingers trembled as they reached for the locket against her fevered skin. A choked sob tore from her throat.
She staggered to the edge of the bed, gripping the wooden post so tightly her knuckles turned white. The weight of it all bore down on her—six months of trying, of enduring, of believing that somehow, she and Adrain could have made it work. That love, or duty, or the gods themselves would have intervened.
But no god had answered. No mate bond had saved them. And now, she had returned, carrying their child whose father had betrayed her in the most unforgivable way.
Her knees buckled.
She sank to the floor, pressing a hand over her stomach, as though she could shield her baby from the storm of emotions raging inside her. She had to be strong. She had to keep herself together—for her child, for her pack.
But here, in the quiet, in the sanctuary of her old home, there was no one to witness her unraveling. So she let herself fall apart.
Silent tears turned into broken sobs, muffled by the sleeve of her dress. Her shoulders shook, her body curling inward as grief, anger, and exhaustion consumed her. The Infidelity Mark had burned through Adrain's chest, but her wounds were deeper—ones no magic could heal.
What would she tell them? Her father, who had given his blessing with pride? Her mother, who had looked at her tonight with such worry? Her people, who still believed their Luna had been cherished? How could she bear to shatter their illusions?
Nyma clenched her jaw, forcing herself to breathe through the ache, but it was too much. The moment she closed her eyes, she could still see images printed behind her eyelids for the rest of her life—Adrain's hands gripping Lira's skin with a familiarity that made her sick. The way his mouth had moved against hers, the raw intimacy of it, as if she had been his all along.
And they had been doing this since her marriage. After the day Adrain had vowed himself to her. After the day she had become his Luna.
Nyma curled her arms around her stomach, as if she could shield herself—shield her child—from the truth that was sinking in like poison.
The betrayal ran deeper than just a moment of weakness. It had been a choice. A repeated one. Only if she could make the similar choice of choosing someone else other than mate.
The thought was dangerous. Forbidden. Yet, it slithered into Nyma's mind, curling around her pain like a viper ready to strike.
If Adrain had chosen again and again to betray her, to lie, to love another—why couldn't she choose, too?