Liora's
The night after Arlo called another woman Mommy did not pass.
It pressed down on the Silvercrest estate like a storm held in place by will alone, heavy with unspent thunder.
Sleep would not come.
Liora lay awake beside her son, staring at the dark beams above her, each one a silent ledger of promises broken beneath this roof. Her chest ached—not with anger, but with the bone-deep exhaustion of a woman who had loved quietly for too long.
Arlo slept curled against her side, small and warm, his toy wolf clutched in one fist. Moonlight spilled across his curls, silver and pure.
He was her anchor.
Her reason.
Her line in the sand.
And yet the memory rose again, unbidden—his laughter, his open arms, that innocent word offered to another woman as if it had never been hers to lose.
Kael had stood there and done nothing.
No correction. No claim.
Not even her name.
That silence had severed something vital.
Her wolf stirred, restless beneath her skin. Liora pressed her palm to her chest—and froze.
Warmth pulsed beneath her hand.
Not the familiar echo of her mate bond. Not Kael.
This was older.
Deeper.
It beat like a second heart, steady and insistent, as though something within her had finally decided it had waited long enough.
The air in the room thickened. Charged.
Before the sky lightened, Liora slipped from the bed, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, and left the pack house without a word.
The cold bit deep. Mist coiled over the grass, silvering the forest's edge. She inhaled pine and earth and something ancient that made her spine straighten.
She did not hesitate.
The forest opened for her.
With each step, the weight of the estate fell away. No walls. No watching eyes. Only breath and ground and the steady pull drawing her deeper until the sounds of Silvercrest vanished entirely.
Leaves brushed her arms like recognition.
Halfway through the woods, her wolf surged.
The force of it dropped her to her knees.
Light exploded behind her eyes. Her breath broke, a sharp cry tearing free as her senses shattered outward.
She heard everything.
The fluttering heart of a rabbit hidden in brush. Roots drinking deep beneath the soil. Water whispering over stone far beyond sight.
And beneath it all—the steady rhythm of the Moon.
Not distant.
Not divine and unreachable.
Present.
Alive.
Power rippled through her veins. The earth trembled faintly beneath her palms. Silver light bloomed across her skin, mist at first—then fire. It traced her arms, wrapped her fingers, threaded through her hair.
Liora gasped. "What… is happening to me?"
The answer came without words.
Visions tore through her—Lunas crowned in silver flame, wolves bowing their heads, a lineage older than packs and Alphas and bonds forged in duty rather than truth.
A woman's voice rose from the light, fierce and absolute.
"You were never meant to endure."
"You were meant to awaken."
The power surged once more—and settled.
Liora collapsed forward, hands buried in soil, breath shaking. The glow faded, but the presence remained, coiled and watchful beneath her skin.
She was trembling.
Not with fear.
With recognition.
A branch snapped.
She spun, senses razor-sharp, as a young warrior stepped into view. His eyes widened when he saw her.
"My Lady," he said quickly, bowing low. "The Alpha sent us to find you."
Liora rose slowly.
Her shawl had slipped loose. Her hair fell wild around her shoulders. Moonlight still shimmered faintly along her skin.
The warrior swallowed.
"You… feel different," he said.
She met his gaze calmly. "I am."
They walked back in silence. The forest whispered as she passed, leaves stirring without wind. Power hummed around her like a living thing, refusing to dim.
Dawn broke as Silvercrest came into view.
Kael waited at the entrance.
Even at rest, his presence commanded the space. Alpha. Authority. Control.
Until he saw her.
Liora watched the moment it happened—the precise second his instincts recognized what his mind could not yet name. His pupils flared. His posture tightened.
"Where were you?" he asked.
"In the forest."
His jaw clenched. "Alone?"
"Yes."
"You shouldn't have gone without protection."
She lifted her gaze fully to his. "I don't need it anymore."
The words cut clean.
For the first time since she had known him, Kael hesitated.
His eyes traced her face, the faint glow at her skin, the power he could feel but not command. Unease flickered through him—sharp, unfamiliar.
"What happened to you?" he asked quietly.
Liora stepped past him, close enough that the air shifted between them. "Maybe you should ask what you refused to see."
His breath caught.
She didn't wait for an answer.
The wind stirred as she climbed the steps, curling around her like a living cloak. Kael remained where he stood, instincts roaring, certainty slipping through his grasp.
For the first time, the Alpha did not know whether to pursue,
—or kneel.
That night, the moon rose full and white.
Liora stood by the window, her reflection calm, centered, unafraid. Power hummed softly beneath her skin. Her wolf rested, alert and satisfied.
She did not yet know what she was becoming.
Only that she would never shrink again.
Down the hall, Kael's footsteps paused outside her door.
He did not knock.
The silence that followed was not absence.
It was choice.
Liora turned back to the moon, silver light brushing her fingertips.
Whatever had awakened within her had waited long enough.
And when it rose fully,
no Alpha alive would be able to command it.