The stranger stepped aside quietly, his gaze scanning the perimeter as if guarding me even now.
Before I could thank him, I saw my brother running from the pack mansion. Alpha Benedict, tall, broad-shouldered, his aura strong and fierce. His usually calm eyes were burning with fury when they landed on me.
“Brielle,” he breathed, pulling me into his arms. “You’re home. You’re safe now.”
I broke down then, sobbing into his chest. The smell of his familiar pine scent made me feel like a child again.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out between tears. “I should’ve listened to you. You told me not to trust him.”
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and trembling. “Don’t ever apologize for loving someone who didn’t deserve you.”
Behind him, my parents appeared.
Alpha Charles, my father, still tall and dignified despite the gray streaks in his hair. His eyes were sharp, assessing me from head to toe as if ensuring I was whole. And beside him was my mother, Luna Mira, her beauty as gentle as ever, her hands trembling as she reached for me.
“My little girl…” she whispered, cupping my face. “You’re home now.”
I couldn’t speak. I just cried again as she held me tightly.
That night, the pack held a small feast in my honor. Tables were lined with food, candles flickered, and the wolves of Moonveil celebrated my return with howls that echoed through the hills. I smiled politely, but inside I felt hollow.
Every laugh, every toast reminded me of what I had lost, of what had been stolen from me.
When the feast ended, I was called into my father’s office. The room smelled of oakwood and paper, exactly how I remembered it. My father sat behind his desk, my brother standing beside him, arms crossed. My mother sat near the fireplace, her face drawn with worry.
“Sit, Brielle,” Father said. His tone was calm, but I could hear the storm behind it.
I obeyed quietly.
“Tell us everything,” he said.
So I did.
From the moment Alpha Xavier left me at the altar, to the day I found him holding another woman, the way Victoria had mocked me, the humiliations I endured, and the betrayal.
By the time I finished, silence filled the room. My mother was crying silently. My brother’s fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
And my father’s eyes, cold and sharp, were filled with barely contained rage.
“That filthy wolf,” he muttered. “He dares humiliate a daughter of Moonveil?”