Michael's POV
The news broke just as the sky started to lighten.
I heard a timid knock and then the guard's voice, shaky and thin.
"Alpha, the woman… she's awake."
I didn't answer at first. My quill hovered, a bead of ink soaking into the parchment. I'd been waiting for this, running through every possible reaction in my head, but now that it was here, I just sat there, listening to my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Selene.
Awake.
I made myself breathe. Shut the ledger, slow and careful. "Good," I managed, keeping my voice flat. "Make sure she's comfortable. Tell the healer I'll come when she's stronger."
"Yes, Alpha."
The door clicked shut and silence rushed back in.
But there was nothing peaceful about it.
I spent hours pacing, my thoughts circling, restless, hungry. Everything inside me wanted to run to her, see her open her eyes, and hear her speak. But that other side of me, the side that remembered the weight of being Alpha, kept me in check.
If I burst into her room now, if I even looked at her before she was ready, I'd ruin everything.
She'd wake up to fear, not comfort. Old wounds, not healing.
So I waited.
Two days. I drifted around my own territory, half-there, half-ghost. From the far end of the courtyard, I watched through the healer's window. Saw her, finally, sitting up, pale, but alive. The boy wouldn't leave her. He watched her every move, protective and wary, way too grown-up for his years.
My son.
Just thinking it twisted something deep inside me.
Selene spoke to him in that quiet way of hers, slow gestures, always watching. When she smiled, small, tired, but real... it hit me hard, sharper than any knife.
I couldn't stay away.
Every day I found myself there, hidden behind the stone arch, watching while she limped through the little garden by the healer's wing. She moved carefully, favoring her left side, one hand pressed to her stomach. But even weak, there was this strength in her, a kind of grace I'd once tried and failed to break.
I didn't realize how long I'd been standing there until a voice broke through.
"Are you just going to stand there staring at her forever?"
I spun around.
Lucy was a few steps away, arms folded, golden hair spilling down in waves. Barefoot, wearing one of those silk robes I'd bought her last winter. She was always striking, sharp, almost fierce, never soft.
And right now, her eyes were pure venom.
"How long have you been there?" I tried to straighten up, sound steady.
"Long enough." She came closer, glancing at the window where Selene's shadow moved behind the curtains. "She's awake, isn't she?"
"Yes."
Lucy laughed, short and bitter. "Of course she is. And of course you're here."
My jaw tightened. "Careful, Lucy."
She ignored me, circling like she owned the ground. "Don't act like I haven't noticed, Michael. You've been off since she got here. You barely eat, you don't sleep, you're always out here watching her like you're starving."
She never missed her mark.
"Lucy," I said, quietly, "this isn't what you think."
She arched an eyebrow. "No? Because to me, it looks exactly like last time. You get that same look whenever it's about her."
I didn't say anything.
She stepped in, close enough that her perfume, jasmine and smoke, filled the air. "Stay away from her," she snapped. "Help the boy if you want. He's innocent. But her? No. Don't talk to her. Don't look at her. Don't drag that ghost back into this house."
I stared at her, the words heavy and strange in my mouth. "You forget yourself, Lucy. You don't give me orders."
Her eyes blazed. "Then call it a warning. Or a plea. I don't care. But I won't stand by and watch you lose yourself to her again. I'm your wife now. That was your choice."
Wife. The word just hung there between us, heavy as stone.
Yeah, I made that choice, and it had nothing to do with love. It was politics, plain and simple. Lucy's family stepped in when Duskfire Pack was falling apart. She stood by me, loyal, patient, sometimes even kind, though she always kept her guard up.
For years, I told myself that was enough.
But right then, with her glaring at me, jealousy burning in her eyes, all I could think about was Selene. The way it felt to meet her gaze. The way she made me feel alive.
Lucy's face changed as she realized I wasn't saying anything. Her voice dropped, shaky. "You promised me, Michael. You said she didn't matter. That's what happened was a mistake."
I couldn't look at her. My throat felt tight. "It was," I said, and the lie tasted bitter.
She touched my arm, quick and gentle. "Then show me. Stay away from her."
I just stood there. Finally, I mumbled, "I'll keep my distance. You have my word."
She let go, but she kept watching me, searching for something—maybe guilt, regret, maybe some piece of love.
Whatever she saw was enough. She gave this stiff little nod and turned for the door. "Dinner's in an hour," she said. "Don't forget you're still the Alpha."
When she left, I just stood there, staring at the spot where she'd been.
I meant what I said, at least, part of it. I'd keep my distance. I'd watch over Selene and Jasper, make sure they stayed safe, even if it meant doing it from the shadows.
But my heart wasn't fooled.
Underneath all the promises and the lies, one thing never really died...
That bond. Faint, buried deep, but still there.
Every time I saw Selene, it woke up again.
That night, I went to my room late. Moonlight spilled across the floor. Lucy was already asleep, back to me, her hand curled over the blanket.
I watched her for a while, listening to her quiet breathing.
Then, barely above a whisper, I said what I couldn't say to her face:
"I'll always love you, Lucy."
Even as I said it, the words rang hollow.
Because another name burned in my mind.
Selene.