Awakened Under The Silver Moon Chapter 17
Many more years passed.
The Silvermoon Pack welcomed the youngest Alpha prodigy in North American history.
His name was Leo. They say he was born from the previous Alpha and a mysterious woman.
At thirteen, he defeated every challenger. United the fractured packs of the continent with an iron will.
As for the former Alpha, Sebastian, he vanished from the territory the day Leo took the mantle. Exiled himself to the frozen wastes of Alaska.
No one knew what kind of existence he lived out there.
Sometimes hunters in the snow would spot a lone figure in the distance. Not a wolf. A man. Sitting alone on the ice by a frozen lake. Staring at the southern horizon. Motionless. Like a statue sealed in frost.
To betray the Mate Bond bound by the Moon Goddess is to suffer the harshest punishment.
Not a punishment from the divine. The tearing of one’s own soul. The bone-deep agony of being separated from the one destined for you. Day after day. Strength rotting away.
His howls echoed through the polar nights of Alaska. They didn’t sound like a wolf marking territory. They sounded like a man in the deep hours, grinding his teeth on a name that could never be answered again.
Until many years later.
I returned to old paths. Went back to that rainy town in Washington State.
The docks had new coffee shops.
I sat by the window. Overheard a few passing werewolves talking in low voices. A long howl came from Alaska. The old Alpha in seclusion had passed in his sleep last night.
When he died, he was holding a faded silver pendant in his hand. He’d spent a fortune buying it back from a pawnshop.
I planned to listen like it was gossip. Nothing more.
When I stood up, a coin slipped from my pocket. Hit the floor with a sharp sound.
I looked up. A young man stood beside my table. He looked almost exactly like Sebastian.
Black coat. Tall. Poised as a lone wolf in the night.
But the way he looked at me was different from Sebastian. There was no possessiveness there. No hunting hunger. No arrogant debts and compensations.
Just years of weight pressed down. Grief that could no longer hide.
“Mom.”
Leo had grown so much.
“I’ve taken Father’s position. The territories are united. The wars are over.”
He said it without any pride in his voice.
His voice was soft. Like the little boy on the beach all those years ago. Sweat on his forehead. Waiting for a word of praise.
I said nothing.
I just looked at him.
“Mom. Before Father died, he had one question. He wanted me to ask you.”
I already knew what he was going to ask.
The cruel joke. I waited two lifetimes.
In my first life, I held onto my last breath. Refused to let go. Because I wanted to hear the answer to this question with my own ears. He never came.
Now he sent Leo.
But I no longer needed to say it to anyone.
Leo looked into my eyes. He saw the answer in them. No love. No hate. Nothing he was hoping to find.
The color drained from his lips.
“Mom. I’m sorry.”
I stood up in silence. The first real movement I’d made since ordering that coffee.
I figured it was time to go.
The rain was heavier now. The wind blew in from the sea. Rocked the wooden sign outside the café.
I walked to the counter. Pulled out my wallet.
When I opened it to pay, the wallet lay flat on the counter.
Leo stood by the window. His tall frame went rigid.
His wolf eyes were sharper than a hawk’s. Even in the dim café light, he could see it clearly.
Inside the worn, faded plastic sleeve, there was a photograph.
A four-year-old boy standing on the backyard lawn.
Sunlight in his golden hair. His small hands showing off his first pair of wolf claws. Grinning at the camera. Showing two baby fangs. Laughing without restraint. Like the whole world was his playground.
That was Leo’s fourth birthday.
The day he first learned to control his claws.
The day he proudly showed off his new skills to his mom.
The day his mom said “keep working on it” and walked into the house.
And he stood on the lawn. Shouted at Elena. “I’m getting three ice creams. One for Dad. One for you. One for me.”
He didn’t say one for Mom.
He wanted her to hear it. Wanted her to hurt. Wanted her to know. You won’t praise me. Someone else will.
He didn’t know that was the last time he’d see his mother.
And the last time his mother ever took a picture of him.
Leo’s gaze lifted from the photo. Landed on my face.
His mouth opened. A tiny sound came from his throat. Thin. Like a cub’s whimper. Exactly the same as that day outside the food truck. When I sent him back to the territory.
I followed his eyes down to the photo. My face was calm as the sea fog outside the window.
I didn’t pull the photo out. Didn’t explain why I’d carried it for over twenty years.
I just closed the wallet.
A sharp little snap.
Like a door finally shutting for good.
“Rain’s getting worse. Time to go, Alpha.”
I pushed the door open. Walked into the sea fog.
Behind me, something heavy hit the floor. A dull thud.
I didn’t look back.
I knew what it was. Leo. The young Alpha who ruled all the packs of North America. The prodigy warrior who made challengers drop to their knees.
But right now, he was on his knees on that café’s wooden floor. Hands covering his face. Letting out the sobs he’d held back for over twenty years. The hopeless, broken wailing of a child who had lost everything.
The rainy season had come to the little town again. Fine threads of rain. Thin mist rolling over the sea. I realized then. Some people. There’s no need to say goodbye anymore.
And I, alone, had already walked so far.
