Aurora
As I stood there, watching the tense discussion unfold, my eyes were drawn to the two boys. Their expressions were raw, filled with an ache that spoke of longing, loss, and a hope that refused to die. The thought of them growing up without their mother squeezed my chest with an unfamiliar ache. I couldn't even begin to imagine how their fathers, the powerful alphas of the Nightshade pack, had borne the grief of losing their mate. It was almost enough to make me pause and question my own sanity—what was this pull, this connection, that I couldn't ignore?
Just as I was drowning in my thoughts, the moment came. They began to move, heading toward the exit, and that familiar feeling—a hollow, gnawing sense of something lost—swept over me again. It was like a silent alarm that pulled me forward before my brain could catch up. I called out, halting them in their tracks.
Orion and the other warrior immediately shifted, their muscles tensing as their hands hovered near their weapons. I could practically feel the question hanging in the air: What now? If I posed any threat to the children, I knew they would throw themselves into a fight to protect them, no matter how outmatched they were. But I wasn't here to make enemies. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice. "I mean no harm."
The warriors didn't relax, their eyes still sharp and watchful. Their hesitation was palpable, and I could tell they were calculating their next move. Ignoring their watchful gazes, I walked forward, my eyes fixed on the children. The impulse to reach out and pat their heads was so sudden, so instinctive, that it caught me off guard. It felt right, as if I were meant to do it. And when I looked into their faces, I felt something click into place, something I couldn't quite name.
"I will find your mother," I said, the words escaping before I could stop them. They weren't just a promise; they were a declaration, a vow that settled over me like a weight I couldn't shake. My wolf stirred, almost as if agreeing. The thought of failing them was unbearable, and a protective instinct surged within me that I couldn't ignore.
"Why?" Riven whispered, his voice fragile, full of a hope that made my heart twist. There was a softness to him that mirrored a part of me I'd long forgotten.
My lips curled into a half-smile, the kind that hid everything but spoke volumes. "Because if I don't, I'll go feral," I said, the words carrying a gravity that made even the warriors pause. It wasn't a threat, but it might as well have been. My wolf was on edge, recognizing something essential in those boys that I had only just discovered.
Riven's eyes, wide and glistening with tears, made me want to pull him into my arms and never let go. And then Rowan, with his relentless determination, reached out and grabbed my arm, his small fingers so tight they were almost comical. "We believe you," he said, his voice cracking with emotion, and it was so pure, so genuine, that I could have wept.
It hit me then—how could I have not seen it sooner? The aura-blocking rings on their wrists masked their identities, but I would not be stopped. With a deft motion, I let one of the rings slip from my fingers, making it seem like an accident. It fell to the floor, light as a whisper.
In that moment, recognition roared to life inside me, and my wolf howled in joy. The scent, the bond—it was unmistakable. They were ours. Mine. But how? The years I had lost, the memory that had vanished—they were all the missing pieces that made this realization feel like both the start of something beautiful and the beginning of a storm.
I blinked, caught between joy and a million unanswered questions. And then, before I could think, Rowan, the younger one, threw himself at me, his small arms wrapping around my waist. His weight, his love, and the need for comfort were so overwhelming, so intense, that I could only stand there and absorb it.
I felt a thrill of both relief and disbelief, my heart thundering in my chest as my wolf purred with recognition.
I looked at them, really looked at them, and the truth sang in my blood. These were my children. The bond that surged between us, so fierce and pure, was proof that I was their mother, even if my mind had forgotten. The fact that I had two mates was a storm in my mind, the weight of it pressing down, reshaping my understanding of everything I thought I knew about myself and my life.
The room seemed to shrink as my heart thundered in my chest, and I struggled to breathe, to process it all. The fear of the unknown clawed at me, mingling with a joy I hadn't allowed myself to feel in years. But with that realization came a piercing question that made my wolf stir restlessly: Where were my mates? The thought burned, sharp and painful. How had I lost those years? And what had happened to separate me from my own children?
My eyes met theirs, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. Their faces, full of hope and a need that mirrored my own, shone with the kind of innocence I wanted to protect at any cost. I had no answers, only a storm of emotions swirling inside me, but one thing was certain: I wouldn't let them go. Not now, not ever.
I turned to the warriors, my gaze landing on the portrait of their Luna. It was an image of me from before the change, a version of myself from six years ago.
Six years had passed, and I was no longer the same. I couldn't explain why, but everything about me had shifted—my hair color, my eyes, my body, even the color of my wolf. It was as if I had become a different person when I returned.
The reason why neither Scroll nor my mates had found any trace of me might be simpler than I thought. I had always worn a mask, and only a handful of high-ranking members knew what I truly looked like.
The warriors looked at me with doubt, their expressions hardened as they attempted to separate me from my children. My wolf's temper flared, a low growl rumbling deep in my chest. No sane person would try to pull a child away from their mother, let alone when that mother was the Rogue Queen and an Alpha. But still, they lunged at me, Orion charging with bare hands, aiming to restrain me by targeting my wrists. I met his strength effortlessly, subduing him and the other warriors with ease. I knew they meant no real harm; they were just trying to protect their young masters.
Suddenly, Fredrick's voice cut into my mind, urgent and sharp. He informed me that a warrior from our pack had gone feral after losing his mate, and they hadn't been able to find him. The possibility that he might have crossed into human territory was high, and I needed to leave immediately. My warriors were more than capable of handling a feral wolf, but I had the ability to calm him if I reached him within six hours.
I had to go, and there was no way I was leaving my sons behind, not even if my mates showed up and fought against me. Turning to the warriors, I made my declaration, telling them I was taking the children and where they could find me.
Riven blinked at me, eyes wide with a mix of awe and excitement. "How are we going to get there?"
The question nearly made me laugh. I handed them each a helmet, the tension easing as the moment shifted from dramatic to absurdly mundane. "We're riding," I said, taking a seat on my motorcycle. "And don't worry, I'm a great driver."
Rowan, always the adventurous one, hopped on in front, his tiny hands gripping the petrol lid as if it were a treasure. My laughter bubbled up, warm and carefree, as I asked, "Want to sit in the back or in the middle?"
"Front!" Rowan declared, his voice bright and full of excitement.
As the engine roared to life, the wind swept through my hair and the thrill of the unknown buzzed through me. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a glimmer of peace. We were moving, leaving behind the past, and facing whatever was next. It wasn't going to be easy, but I had them. My sons. And they had me.