Branded barren and cast aside by her mate, Celeste vanishes into the night carrying a secret—triplets destined to change the world. Five years later, she returns stronger, more powerful, and no longer the broken Luna he rejected. As rival packs plot, jealous enemies rise, and her triplets awaken their legacy, Celeste must choose between revenge and destiny, while the Alpha who scorned her will beg for redemption.

Banished

“I, Kharl Blackthorn, Alpha of Blood Moon Pack, banish you, Celeste Storm, from this pack,” his voice rang out like a blade slicing through her chest. “I strip you of the title of Luna. You are no longer one of us.”

The crowd gasps! Not out of shock but happiness. Many of them have waited for a day like this after all, they hated her.

Some lowered their heads, unwilling to meet her gaze. Others smirked at her, especially Lydia, her archenemy standing a few feet away in a flowing crimson dress, looking like the Luna she was about to become.

Celeste’s throat tightened, her heart bleeding .She felt her wolf cry out in her head.

For three long years, she had endured whispers, insults, and humiliation. For three years, she had loved Kharl despite the cold way he had begun to treat her. She had given everything to this pack. Her loyalty. Her heart. Her soul. Although she knew they didn't like, Celeste had tried her best to be the perfect Luna for the Pack. She always put the pack first in everything before herself.

And this was how it ended. She is being trashed out and almost everyone in the pack seems happy about it.

‘O dear moon goddess, what did I do to deserve this?’ Celeste silently lamented.

“Kharl…” Her voice was small, shaky. The sound of it only seemed to harden him more. “Why are you doing this? I am your mate!” Celeste bitterly lamented.

She left the need to remind Kharl that they are mates because the way he has been behaving these past few months seems as though he has forgotten they are bond with d together.

“This is not up for debate,” he snapped. “The Pack Seer has spoken. You are barren because of the cursed blood you carry. Your witch lineage taints this pack.”

A murmur of agreement spread among the gathered wolves. She had known this day would come. From the moment she failed to give Kharl an heir a year after they mated, the whispers began. Barren Luna. The title clung to her like a scarlet mark, whispered in the hallways, spat at her behind her back and sometimes spoken right in front of her.

But hearing him say it so coldly broke something inside her.

“I am not cursed,” Celeste said, her voice stronger now. Her wolf stirred within her chest, trembling but defiant. “The Seer lied. They have hated me from the beginning. You know this.”

Kharl’s lips curled slightly, not in pity, but disdain. “Enough. You will leave Blood Moon territory tonight. If you step back on this land, you will be treated as a rogue.”

Lydia stepped forward then with a soft, fake smile playing on her lips and her long blonde hair shining in the morning sun.

She looked every bit like the perfect Luna they wanted. “You should be grateful, Celeste,” she said sweetly. “Most Alphas would have had you executed for bringing a curse into their home.”

Celeste’s fingers curled into fists. She could smell the smug satisfaction rolling off Lydia like perfume. She wanted to rip it off her. She wanted to scream. But what good would that do? No one here would listen. They had already chosen who to believe.

“I loved you,” Celeste whispered to Kharl. Her vision blurred as hot tears filled her eyes. “Even when you stopped loving me, I still believed you were my mate.”

He didn’t flinch. Not even a twitch. “You were a mistake! I will forever regret the day I mated with you.”

Something cracked inside her at those words. She could feel her heart breaking.

The crowd erupted as warriors moved closer, surrounding her like she was some kind of criminal. She knew the rules, once you get brandished, you are expected to leave the pack immediately or face the consequence.

Celeste stumbled back, her breaths sharp and uneven. She could still hear their whispers of the pack members as their eyes clawed at her.

“Barren Luna.”

“Witch.”

“She deserves it.”

“I heard Lydia is already pregnant. A real Luna.”

It felt like knives cutting into her skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could shield her from their cruelty. She wanted to scream, to make them see the truth. But the pack had already turned against her long before this moment. She had just been too blind to see it.

Her gaze fell on Kharl one last time. Once upon a time, those golden eyes had made her feel safe. Now, they were the eyes of a stranger.

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned and ran.

Bare feet hit the cold earth as she dashed into the forest beyond the pack house, past the howling wolves, past the boundaries she had once called home. Her chest burned with every breath, but she didn’t stop. If she stopped, she would break completely.

The wind bit against her skin, sharp and cruel. Branches tore at her long nightgown, slicing thin lines into her legs. She didn’t care. She kept running.

She ran until the lights of the pack house were gone. Until the laughter behind her faded. Until the bond between her and Kharl burned inside her like a dying star.

When she finally collapsed on the damp ground, the night sky above her swam through her tears. She could still feel the mating bond, faint but painful, like a chain dragging across her heart. She bit her lip until it bled, pressing a hand against her chest as if she could rip it out.

He had rejected her. He had banished her. But the bond didn’t disappear that easily.

She screamed.

The sound ripped through the forest, wild and raw. It wasn’t the scream of a Luna. It was the scream of a woman who had lost everything.

The bond flared again, as if mocking her. Her wolf whimpered inside her, wounded and weak.

Why didn’t he fight for us?

Why wasn’t I enough?

“Because they never wanted you here,” she whispered to herself. Her voice was hoarse, broken.

She had known from the beginning. The elders hated her. She wasn’t born as a powerful wolf and grew up as an orphan in the Pack’s shelter home. They had always seen her as an outsider. And when the moon refused to bless her with children, their hatred turned into open war.

The Seer’s words still echoed in her skull. “She is barren because she is tainted. Her bloodline carries witchcraft.” A lie. A perfect, cruel lie. And Kharl believed it without a fight.

He hadn’t even looked at her when he pronounced her banishment.

Celeste curled up on the forest floor, hugging herself tightly. The cold seeped into her bones, but she didn’t move. For the first time in years, she was truly alone. No pack. No home. No mate.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, a small spark of fire refused to die.

“You will all pay! I will make you all pay for what you did to me!” Celeste swore as she held her hand to her chest.

Saved

The day was slowly getting darker, and the forest was so silent that it made Celeste's skin crawl. She was hungry, thirsty, and tired. But she knew she had to keep going.

This was her first time out of the Pack, and now she's worse as a rogue. Celeste thought of what might have happen to her.

She had heard many stories of what happened to others in the forest, especially the weak and defenseless ones like her.

Celeste’s feet ached, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she stumbled over roots and stones. She had no idea where she was going. She just knew she had to keep moving.

A part of her still feels like going back to the Pack to beg them to stay, but no! She couldn’t go back. Not to them. Not after everything. She would rather die here in the wild. After all, there is nothing left for her. Her mate belongs to someone else now.

Her gown was torn, her hair tangled with leaves, and her bare feet were bleeding. But she didn’t care. She had just reached a clearing when a low, mocking voice slithered through the darkness.

“Look what we have here.”

Celeste froze. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she turned slowly. Three men emerged from the shadows, wild-eyed, filthy, and reeking of sweat and dirt.

Rogues!. Their eyes glowed faintly in the dark, hungry and dangerous.

Her wolf stirred uneasily. Oh no! not them.

The tallest one smirked, revealing yellowed teeth. “Pretty thing to be wandering alone at night.” His voice was rough, cruel. “You lost, darling?”

Celeste took a shaky step back. “I don’t want any trouble,” she said softly, keeping her voice steady though her heart raced.

The second man, shorter but broader, chuckled. “Trouble? We don’t want trouble either.” His grin widened. “We just want to have some fun.”

The third one laughed a harsh, broken sound that made her stomach twist. “Been a while since we had a woman in these woods.”

“A pretty one got that matter,” the first one added as he linked his lips, making her shiver in disguise.

Their eyes roamed over her torn gown, their gazes dark with hunger. Celeste felt bile rise in her throat. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if her hands could protect her from their intentions.

She had fought her whole life to survive, but she had never been this alone. No pack. No mate. No protection.

Think, Celeste, she told herself. You can’t fight them, but you can outsmart them.

She forced a small, nervous laugh. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, taking a careful step sideways. “There’s nothing here for you. I’m just a traveler. I have nothing worth taking.”

The first rogue tilted his head, his eyes glinting. “Oh, I think you’re worth plenty.”

She could feel their bloodlust thick in the air. They were circling her now, like predators closing in on prey. Her fingers twitched at her sides. If she could just distract them long enough… maybe she could run.

She swallowed hard. “Where are you from?” she asked suddenly, forcing a shaky smile. “You don’t look like rogues from these parts.”

The tall one blinked, surprised for a moment. “Huh?”

She took advantage of his confusion. “You must’ve come from the east forest, right? I heard there’s a pack nearby.”

The second man grunted. “What do you care where we’re from?”

“I just thought… maybe I’ve been there,” she lied, feigning innocence. “I might’ve met your Alpha once.”

That got their attention. The first man took a step closer. “You talk too much.”

Now.

Before he could react, Celeste swung her arm with all her strength, her fist connecting with his jaw. He stumbled back with a growl of pain and surprise.

She didn’t wait to see what happened next. She turned and ran.

Branches whipped against her face as she sprinted through the trees. Her lungs screamed, her legs burned, but fear gave her strength. She could hear them behind her, cursing, snarling, gaining ground.

“Get her!”

Their footsteps thundered after her. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t stop.

“Moon Goddess,” she gasped between breaths, “please… please help me.”

She stumbled over a root, catching herself just in time. The ground sloped downward, and she slid through the mud before regaining her footing. The sound of pursuit grew louder.

They were close. Too close.

A hand suddenly tangled in her hair, yanking her backward so hard she screamed. She crashed to the ground, pain exploding at the back of her skull.

“Yo, bitch!” the rogue snarled, dragging her up by the hair. “You think you can run from us?”

Celeste struggled, kicking wildly. “Let me go!”

The third man laughed, his voice dripping with malice. “We tried to be nice.”

They shoved her against a tree. The bark bit into her skin. One of them gripped her wrists while the other leaned close, his breath rancid. “You’ll regret fighting us.”

Celeste’s eyes filled with tears of rage. Her wolf howled inside her, desperate to protect her, but she was too weak. Too drained.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t do this…”

The rogue’s grin widened. “Begging makes it better.”

And then, footsteps.

Heavy. Fast. Coming closer.

The rogues froze. Their heads snapped toward the sound, nostrils flaring. The scent that hit them made their faces pale instantly.

Pack wolves.

One of them hissed. “Shit!”

Celeste blinked in confusion as the trees lit up with movement and armor glinting.

The rogues stumbled back, realization dawning on their faces.

“We chased her into a pack’s territory,” the tallest one spat. “Which—”

“The Golden Sky Pack,” the other interrupted, his voice breaking. “We’re in their damn land!”

Before they could flee, wolves in golden-trimmed armor burst from the darkness. The forest erupted with snarls and steel. The rogues tried to run, but they didn’t make it far. The guards moved fast, surrounding them. One rogue went down with a punch to the gut; another tried to shift but was kicked hard before he could. Within moments, they were pinned to the ground, growling helplessly.

Celeste stood frozen against the tree, eyes wide. Her body trembled from the shock. The guards moved with precision and strength, nothing like the Blood Moon warriors. These men were obviously well-trained.

When the fight ended, one of them stepped forward. He was tall, dark-haired, with sharp eyes that softened when they met hers. “You’re safe now,” he said gently, though his tone carried authority. “They won’t hurt you.”

Celeste tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. She opened her mouth, but no sound came. Her knees gave way, and she fell to the ground.

The guard knelt quickly, steadying her by the shoulders. “Easy. You’re bleeding,” he said, noticing the small cut on her temple. “You need a healer.”

Celeste stared at him, dazed. “I… I didn’t mean to enter your lands,” she whispered weakly. “I was just—running.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured her. “The rogues are the ones who trespassed. You did well to survive this long.”

His voice was kind, and it startled her. No one had spoken to her with kindness in years.

“Where… am I?” she managed.

“The borders of the Golden Sky Pack,” he replied. “You’re lucky. A few more steps, and those rogues might’ve killed you before we found you.”

Golden Sky Pack. The name sent a faint memory through her mind, stories whispered by traders, tales of a strong and just Alpha who ruled the mountains. She had never thought she’d see this place, much less stumble into it half-dead.

Celeste’s head spun. The edges of her vision blurred. “I didn’t mean to bring trouble,” she murmured, her lips trembling.

“You didn’t,” the guard said softly. “You’re safe now. No one here will hurt you.”

She wanted to believe him. Truly. But trust was a fragile thing. She had thought of Kharl once, too.

Still, exhaustion overwhelmed her. Her heartbeat slowed. The adrenaline that had kept her alive drained away, leaving her cold and dizzy.

The guard frowned, noticing her sway. “Hey, stay with me, what’s your name?”

Celeste blinked sluggishly, trying to answer. Her lips parted, but her voice was gone. The world tilted, the forest spinning around her.

“I…” she whispered faintly.

And then everything went black.

The guard caught her just before she hit the ground. “She’s out cold,” he muttered, glancing up at his men. “Get the rogues to the cells. I’ll take her to the Alpha.”

The others nodded and began dragging the unconscious rogues away. The tall guard lifted Celeste gently into his arms. Her body was light, fragile like something that could break if handled too roughly. He frowned at the bruises on her wrists and the streaks of blood along her skin.

“Whoever she is,” he said quietly, “she’s been through hell.”

His regret

The courtyard was now almost empty. After Celeste was banished from the Pack, the crowd slowly reduced. People walked away in groups, gossiping about the barren Luna and how her Mate had no choice but to banish her. Surely this will be the talk of the Pack for months to come.

Kharl Blackthorn stood alone in the silence in the same position he had banished his beloved mate, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He could still hear her voice echoing in his head, Celeste’s voice, trembling, breaking.

“I loved you.”

The words hit him harder than any blade. His wolf was restless inside him, pacing, howling, clawing at the edges of his mind.

Go after her, his wolf growled, desperate and pained. She’s ours. She’s our mate. Bring her back, Kharl!

Kharl gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, pressing a hand against his temple. His wolf’s agony was unbearable. The mate bond wasn’t something that disappeared instantly; it bled, slow and torturous.

No! he thought firmly. I can’t. I did the right thing. I had to.

Celeste was gone. Banished. And it had to be that way.

He forced his breathing to slow, trying to calm the storm inside him. He had to be strong. He was Alpha, the protector of the Blood Moon Pack. Every decision he made had to serve the pack, not his heart.

Even if it tore him apart.

He opened his eyes and stared into the dark woods beyond the courtyard. Somewhere out there, she was running. Alone. Fragile.

His chest tightened painfully.

She will survive, he told himself. She’s strong. She will survive.

But the doubt lingered like a shadow in the back of his mind.

Ten minutes passed. Still, Kharl stood there, unmoving. The voices in his head warred against each other, his wolf howling for their mate, his mind screaming that he couldn’t undo what was already done.

Then he heard her voice.

“You did the right thing, Kharl.”

He turned sharply to see Lydia walking toward him, her expression soft and falsely sympathetic. The moonlight made her blonde hair gleam like gold, but to Kharl, it only reminded him of everything cold and false in his life.

She stepped closer and placed her hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to do,” she said softly. “For the good of the pack. The Seer confirmed it; she was dangerous.”

Kharl stiffened. The touch made his skin crawl.

“Don’t,” he muttered, shrugging her hand off and stepping away. “Don’t touch me.”

Lydia blinked in surprise but masked it with a gentle smile. “I’m only trying to comfort you.”

“I don’t need your comfort,” Kharl snapped. His voice echoed harshly across the courtyard.

Lydia’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, lowering her head in false submission. “Of course, Alpha,” she said, her tone smooth again. “But you did the right thing. Everyone agrees.”

He glared at her, his eyes flashing gold for a brief second. “Then maybe everyone is wrong.”

Without another word, he turned and strode away, his boots heavy against the stone.

As he walked toward the pack house, the night seemed to grow colder. The guards bowed as he passed, their faces unreadable. To them, he was the Alpha who had made a hard but necessary decision. To him, he was a man who had just destroyed his own soul.

The Seer waited at the entrance, her ancient eyes glimmering under her hood. “You did well, Alpha,” she rasped. “The witch’s presence was a curse on your bloodline. The Goddess will reward your sacrifice.”

Kharl forced a nod. “I hope you’re right.”

“You’ll see,” she said, her cracked lips curling. “The new Luna carries life. The pack will thrive.”

His jaw tensed. He didn’t reply. He brushed past her and climbed the stairs to his private quarters.

Inside, the silence pressed against him like a weight. The fire in the hearth had burned low, leaving only glowing embers. He sank into the chair beside the window, resting his head in his hands.

Everyone kept saying he did the right thing. Lydia. The elders. The Seer.

So why did it feel so wrong?

Why did his chest ache as if someone had ripped out his heart?

Kharl’s wolf whimpered inside him, broken and angry. You banished her. Our mate. Our Luna.

“Enough,” Kharl hissed under his breath, but his voice trembled. “I did it for the pack. For all of us.”

She was never a witch! His wolf roared. You know it. You felt her purity. Her heart.

Kharl gripped his hair tightly, his breathing rough. He hated this weakness. He was Alpha. He wasn’t supposed to question his choices. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Her tears. The way her voice cracked when she called his name.

He pushed to his feet, pacing the room.

Where would she go? Could she survive out there alone? The wild lands were merciless, full of rogues and hunters. Even the strongest wolves rarely lasted long without a pack.

But she was smart. She was strong. He had to believe that.

You should have gone after her, his wolf whispered bitterly.

Kharl clenched his fists until his nails cut into his palms. “No,” he muttered. “I can’t.”

He had to stay strong. He had to protect the pack. He couldn’t let his heart cloud his judgment.

And now, he told himself, there was something else to protect.

He turned toward the window, staring out into the night. His reflection glared back at him, a powerful Alpha, a man bound by duty. The pack came first. Always.

And now Lydia carried his child.

At least, that’s what everyone believed.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t even sure it was true. Three months ago, the night of that cursed meeting…

He remembered it clearly.

The elders had cornered him in the council room, their old faces full of scorn.

“The pack needs an heir,” one of them had said. “Your Luna has failed to conceive.”

Another had added, “It’s been three years, Alpha. The Goddess does not bless barren unions. You must choose another mate.”

Kharl had clenched his teeth that night, anger surging in his veins. He had defended Celeste until his voice broke, but deep down, fear had begun to creep in. What if they were right? What if the Goddess had turned her back on them?

He had stormed out of the meeting and gone straight to the bar in town, drowning his doubts in whiskey.

The next thing he remembered was waking up in a stranger’s bed, Lydia’s bed, naked, with her lying beside him, smiling faintly. His head had pounded, his memories foggy.

“What happened?” he’d demanded.

Lydia had brushed her hair back, looking innocent. “You don’t remember? You came to me. You said you needed comfort.”

He hadn’t believed her. Not fully. But there had been no proof otherwise.

He had threatened her to keep it quiet. And she had until yesterday.

Until she stood before the elders with a trembling hand over her stomach and announced, “I’m pregnant. It’s the Alpha’s child.”

Kharl had felt the ground shift beneath his feet. He couldn’t deny it. Not in front of them. Not when they all looked at him like hungry wolves waiting for an excuse to tear him apart.

They wanted an heir, and Lydia had handed them one.

He was trapped.

Now, as he stood in his quiet chamber, the weight of it all pressed down on him like a curse.

Celeste’s face flashed in his mind again—her tear-streaked cheeks, her trembling lips, her broken voice.

“You were a mistake.”

He had said it to wound her. To make her leave quickly. But now, those words burned inside him like fire.

He pressed a hand to his chest, the bond aching deep within him. His wolf whimpered again, curling into silence.

He walked to his bed and sat on the edge, staring blankly at the floor.

Maybe the Seer was right. Maybe Celeste really was cursed. Maybe her blood would have destroyed the pack.

But if that was true… why did it feel like he was the one dying instead?

Kharl leaned back, closing his eyes. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to forget.

But the moment his lids shut, he saw her again. Standing in front of him, eyes full of pain and disbelief.

He heard her soft whisper, replaying in his head like a ghost.

“I loved you.”

And then his own cruel reply, the one that would haunt him for years to come—

“You were a mistake. I will forever regret the day I mated with you.”

Alpha’s long lost daughter

The smell of antiseptic and lavender filled the air.

Soft light poured through the long white curtains, brushing against Celeste’s face and dragging her slowly back to consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, the ceiling above her swayed in and out of focus.

Where was she?

Her fingers twitched against the cool sheets. Her head felt heavy, and her throat was dry. As she blinked the blurriness away, she realized she was lying in a hospital bed, a proper one, with polished railings, clean linens, and golden sunlight spilling across a marble floor.

Definitely not the Blood Moon infirmary.

She tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot through her shoulder. Her body ached all over, but at least she was alive. Slowly, the memories returned: the forest, the rogues, the fight, and then… the men who had come to her rescue.

Her breath caught. The men!

They must have brought her here.

Celeste glanced around the unfamiliar room. It was far too luxurious for a typical pack clinic. The walls were painted cream-white, adorned with carved gold trim. A chandelier hung above, casting warm light across the space. This wasn’t the Blood Moon Pack; she could feel that in her bones.

Everything here felt different. Calmer. Cleaner. Safer.

Her wolf stirred weakly inside her, sensing no danger for the first time in days.

The sound of footsteps broke her thoughts. Two women entered, both wearing white coats and friendly smiles. They looked elegant, their hair tied neatly back, their skin glowing with health and authority.

One carried a clipboard, the other a tray of medicine.

“Oh, you’re awake!” the taller one said warmly. “That’s good news. You’ve been unconscious for almost a full day.”

Celeste blinked at her. “Where… am I?”

“You’re in the Golden Sky Pack clinic,” the other replied gently, checking her pulse. “You were brought in by Gamma Jamin. He and his men rescued you from the rogue attack last night.”

Gamma Jamin. The name rang faintly in Celeste’s mind. So, that was the man who had helped her. She remembered his calm voice before she fainted.

A wave of gratitude rushed through her. “He saved me?”

“He did,” the taller doctor confirmed with a small smile. “You’re lucky he patrols that route. The rogues were dangerous, but you’re safe now.”

The second woman, petite, with light brown eyes, sighed softly as she examined the bandage on Celeste’s arm. “Poor girl,” she said, almost under her breath. “She looks so timid. I don’t think she would’ve survived another night out there.”

“Nope, she wouldn’t,” the taller one replied. “By her clothes, I’d say she just became a rogue recently.”

Celeste blinked in surprise. Their lips hadn’t moved.

She looked from one woman to the other, her brows furrowing. The words were clear as day, as though someone had whispered them directly into her mind.

But their mouths were still.

What was that?

The women continued talking, their expressions unchanged.

“Maybe the Alpha will let her stay here,” the smaller one mused.

“What? What if she were banished from her pack because she’s a criminal? Or worse, a murderer?”

Celeste’s heart lurched.

“I am not!” she burst out before she could stop herself.

Both women froze and turned sharply to stare at her.

Celeste’s cheeks burned. “I’m not a criminal. Or a murderer,” she said quickly, hoping to explain, though her voice trembled.

The doctors exchanged a glance of confusion and faint disbelief.

The taller one frowned slightly. “Wait… what did you just say?”

“I said I’m not.”

“No,” the other interrupted softly, her tone tinged with surprise. “How did you hear that?”

Celeste blinked, her confusion deepening. “Hear what?”

“We were speaking through the Pack’s mindlink,” the taller one said slowly. “You shouldn’t have been able to hear us. You’re not one of us.”

“I don’t know,” Celeste said honestly, her voice shaky. “I just… heard your voices, even though your mouths weren’t moving.”

The women exchanged another startled glance. The smaller one leaned forward, studying Celeste carefully. “That’s… not possible,” she murmured. “Unless”

“Unless she shares blood with someone in this pack,” the taller doctor finished quietly.

Celeste’s stomach turned.

Her thoughts spun wildly. How could she possibly share blood with anyone here? She had lived in the Blood Moon Pack all her life. She had never left its borders until now.

“Have you been to this pack before?” the smaller doctor asked gently. “Or do you know your parents? Maybe one of them came from here?”

Celeste shook her head slowly. “No. I’ve never been here before. I… don’t know my parents.” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. “I grew up in the corner house of Blood Moon Pack. No one ever told me who they were. The elders used to say I was just… dropped off there as a baby.”

Pain washed over her at the memory of the cold winters spent alone, the whispered gossip, the harsh words of those who called her unwanted.

The taller doctor’s expression softened. “You don’t know your parents?”

“No,” Celeste said quietly.

“Then it’s possible,” the doctor said, turning to her colleague. “If she can hear us through the mindlink, her lineage might be connected to this pack. Maybe her parents were from here before she was taken to Blood Moon Pack.”

Celeste’s eyes widened. She had never thought of that. All her life, she had believed she was one of them, even when they treated her like an outsider. What if she wasn’t? What if she didn’t belong there at all?

Her heart raced at the thought. Could that be why the Seer lied about me? Because I wasn’t truly one of them?

Her mind was spinning when the smaller doctor suddenly gasped. “Oh my goddess,” she whispered, her eyes going wide.

The taller one frowned. “What is it?”

The first doctor, Esha, as her name tag read, stared at Celeste, her hand trembling slightly. “Dr. Leira… do you see what I’m seeing?”

Leira turned her gaze fully on Celeste and froze. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in shock.

Celeste stiffened. “What? What’s wrong?”

For a long moment, neither woman spoke. Then Leira whispered, “She looks exactly like her…”

Esha nodded slowly, her face pale. “Exactly.”

Celeste’s confusion deepened. “Like who?”

The two doctors exchanged a meaningful look, one that filled Celeste with unease.

Esha’s voice was urgent now. “Leira, call Gamma Jamin. Right now.”

Celeste sat up slightly, alarmed. “What’s going on? Why are you calling him?”

Neither doctor answered. Leira closed her eyes briefly, her lips moving silently. Celeste recognized it now as the same strange sensation of voices inside her mind. She could feel the faint hum of the mindlink in the air.

“Jamin,” Esha said through the link, her mental voice steady but tight with disbelief, “you need to come to the pack’s clinic right now.”

A moment of silence followed before his voice came back, calm but curious. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Esha’s eyes flickered toward Celeste, who sat on the bed clutching the sheets, her heartbeat quick and loud in her ears.

Then Esha took a slow breath and replied through the link

“I think the rogue you saved might be the Alpha’s long-lost daughter.”

You look just like her

Gamma Jamin ran through the corridors like a man chased by ghosts.

He had been reviewing patrol reports in his office when Esha’s voice sliced into his thoughts through the mindlink—panicked, breathless, unbelievable.

Long-lost daughter.

Alpha’s daughter.

Impossible.

Impossible… wasn’t it?

His boots hit the polished marble floors of the Golden Sky Pack’s clinic moments later. The glass doors swung open, and he stormed inside, his eyes scanning the reception until he spotted the two doctors waiting anxiously near a private room.

“Where is she?” Jamin asked sharply.

Esha stepped forward. “Inside,” she said, pointing to the room. Her expression was pale with shock. “We… we ran her blood. And the resemblance—Jamin, she looks like Lady Seraphina. Not just a little.”

Lady Seraphina.

The late Luna.

Golden Sky Pack’s greatest heartbreak.

Jamin’s heartbeat stuttered. He swallowed, a painful knot forming in his throat.

“Let me see her,” he said quietly.

Leira and Esha exchanged a look and nodded.

Jamin pushed the door open.

Celeste sat upright on the bed, her back pressed against the pillows, fingers clenching the sheets. She looked small against the wide hospital mattress—fragile, lost, and wary. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her eyes were still swollen from tears and trauma.

But it wasn’t her shape or posture that made Jamin stop in his tracks.

It was her face.

High cheekbones. Pale silver eyes that shimmered in certain light. A delicate nose.

It was as if someone had taken Seraphina Blackmoon’s portrait from the Alpha Hall and breathed life into it.

Except… she was older.

Around twenty, maybe.

Jamin felt the blood drain from his face. He had seen the Alpha’s daughter only once—briefly—when she was a baby wrapped in silk during the dedication ceremony. But everyone remembered how the child looked because that ceremony became a tragedy.

The baby disappeared before the ritual ended.

Stolen from her cradle.

Years of searching turned up nothing.

And now here she was.

A rogue girl who walked into their borders by accident.

Jamin forced air into his lungs and stepped closer, his voice gentler than he expected.

“Hello,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

Celeste lifted her eyes slowly. The moment she met his gaze, Jamin’s wolf stirred. Something ancient, instinctive, tugged at him—recognition, maybe even loyalty.

“I’m… alive,” Celeste whispered. “Thanks to you.”

Jamin nodded once. “I’m glad my men reached you in time.”

He studied her face, careful not to scare her with intensity. “The doctors tell me you can hear voices through the pack’s mindlink.”

Celeste hesitated, then nodded. “I… heard them speaking. But their mouths weren’t moving.”

“Can you hear me now?” Jamin asked, without opening his mouth.

He focused his voice through the link.

Celeste.

Her eyes widened. She gasped softly, a hand flying to her mouth.

Yes, she replied instinctively—through the link.

Jamin’s heart skipped.

There was no denying it.

She wasn’t guessing or reading lips.

She responded directly, mentally, as if the link were hers too.

Leira let out a shaky exhale, stepping beside Jamin. “You see? It’s real.”

Celeste lowered her hand, her voice trembling. “How is that possible? I’m not part of your pack.”

“That’s what we thought,” Jamin said softly. “Until now.”

Celeste’s brows drew together, confusion twisting her features. “I grew up in Blood Moon Pack. I never belonged anywhere else. I was told… I was told I was abandoned there as a baby.”

Jamin’s eyes softened.

“That may not be true.”

Celeste flinched, looking away.

Her entire life—every painful moment she suffered, every rejection, every insult—had been built on the belief that she was an unwanted orphan taken in by the Blood Moon Pack.

If that wasn’t true…

Who was she?

Jamin stepped closer and spoke with the careful weight of someone revealing history forged in pain.

“More than twenty years ago, our Alpha and Luna had a daughter. She was dedicated under the silver moon, blessed by the elders, and named the heir of Golden Sky Pack.”

Celeste listened, her breath shaky.

“During the dedication ceremony, the pack was attacked,” Jamin continued. “Not by outsiders—by traitors who created a distraction long enough for the baby to be stolen from her crib.”

Celeste’s heart pounded louder with each word.

“The Alpha and Luna searched everywhere,” Jamin said, his voice tight. “For months. For years. No pack in the North was untouched by that search. But they found nothing.”

Celeste felt her veins turn to ice.

“And your Luna?” she whispered.

Leira bowed her head. “Lady Seraphina died two years later. Her heart… never healed.”

Celeste closed her eyes, her throat tightening painfully. She didn’t know that woman, but the grief that spilled from the doctors was raw enough to make her chest ache.

“So,” Celeste said, forcing her voice to stay steady, “you’re saying… that I might be her? The lost daughter?”

Esha stepped forward, eyes shining. “Your features are almost identical. The blood sample showed genetic markers specific to the Alpha bloodline. And you can hear our mindlink.”

Celeste shook her head slowly, disbelief twisting inside her. “No. No, that’s impossible. I grew up in Blood Moon Pack. They wouldn’t have taken in the heir of another pack. I was treated like—like trash.”

Her voice cracked.

Jamin’s jaw tightened. The idea alone made his wolf growl.

“It’s not impossible,” Jamin said firmly. “People do terrible things to hide terrible truths. Someone could have taken you there to erase your identity.”

Celeste looked away, tears pooling in her eyes.

Hope.

It was more terrifying than pain.

Hope made wounds bleed again.

“What if you’re wrong?” she whispered, barely audible. “I can’t… I can’t believe I belong somewhere only for it to disappear again.”

Her hands trembled. She had dreamed of belonging her entire life. To be claimed. Loved. Wanted.

But she had given up on that dream years ago.

Jamin’s voice softened. “We’re not asking you to believe it instantly. But the signs are too strong to ignore.”

Celeste swallowed hard, pressing her palm over her heart.

“But… why didn’t anyone come for me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “If I was truly the Alpha’s daughter… why did I grow up alone?”

Leira gently touched Celeste’s arm. “The traitors covered their tracks. There were lies, forged reports, false leads. By the time the war ended, too much truth was buried.”

Celeste stared at her hands, her mind spinning.

Could she really be someone’s daughter?

Someone important?

Someone missed?

Or was she just a broken banished Luna searching for a miracle that wasn’t hers?

Jamin watched her silently, seeing the war in her eyes.

“No one here will force you to accept anything,” he said gently. “Not until we know the truth for sure.”

Celeste nodded weakly. “So… what happens now?”

Jamin took a slow breath.

“We tell the Alpha,” he said.

Both doctors looked at each other, nervous excitement flickering in their expressions.

Celeste’s stomach dropped. The Alpha.

The father she might have.

A man who had searched for a baby that never came home.

Her hands tightened in her lap.

“What if he doesn’t want me,” she whispered, voice small. “What if he sees me and… knows I’m not her?”

Esha smiled softly. “If he lost his child, even the possibility will matter.”

Jamin closed his eyes briefly and reached out through the mindlink, his mental voice steady and urgent as it shot across the pack.

“Alpha, you need to get to the pack’s clinic right now.”

The Face of the Past

The room had gone quiet after Gamma Jamin sent his message through the mindlink, and Celeste could hear her own heartbeat loud in her ears, steady, frantic, terrified. The air in the clinic room suddenly felt colder, or maybe it was the way uncertainty wrapped itself around her like invisible vines. She didn’t know why she was afraid, but something inside her told her that everything past this moment would change her life forever. Celeste kept her eyes on her hands, trying to steady her breathing, until the sharp squeak of rubber soles against polished marble pulled her attention toward the door. The heavy wooden door swung open without a knock, and the man who stepped in made her breath freeze in her lungs.

He was young, far younger than she expected an Alpha to be—tall, broad-shouldered, and carrying the unmistakable aura of dominance that clung to him like his own shadow. His jaw was sharp, his eyes sharpest of all—cool silver flecked with deep forest green, so intense they seemed to peel back whatever truth a person tried to hide. His presence filled the room instantly. This wasn’t the angry pride of Alpha Kael nor the cold calculation of elders—this was quiet power, controlled rather than projected, a calm storm rather than a raging fire.

Celeste stared because she couldn’t help it; her eyes drifted over the stranger’s face, finding familiarity she couldn’t place. Something about him stirred her wolf, as if her instincts recognized him even when her mind didn’t. Then Esha stepped forward with a respectful bow. “Alpha Ryan,” she greeted, her voice steady but strained. Ryan. Not Ryder. Celeste blinked, confused, looking between Jamin and the young Alpha. She had been bracing to face the Alpha, the father she may have lost, yet the man standing before her didn’t look old enough to be anyone’s father.

Ryan’s eyes never left her. For a moment, he studied her stern, silent, frozen, and Celeste felt exposed under his stare, as if he could see every memory she carried, every pain she tried to bury. Then he spoke, his voice low, smooth, but layered with something she didn’t understand. “This is her?” His gaze shifted briefly to Jamin. The Gamma nodded once. Ryan looked back at her, slower this time, scanning her features—her eyes, her cheekbones, the shape of her face. It wasn’t the hungry scrutiny of a stranger trying to claim something; it was shock, raw and naked, held tight behind iron control. Shock… and something like grief.

Celeste swallowed, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She wasn’t used to being looked at like this. In Blood Moon Pack, stares always came with judgment or disgust—barren Luna, useless, witch girl. This stare was different. It felt like someone searching for a ghost.

She found her voice only after a thick moment of silence. “You are the Alpha?” she asked softly, unsure. Ryan blinked, the question snapping him out of whatever memory had trapped him. “Acting Alpha,” he corrected. “Soon to take the throne. My father, Alpha Ryder, is still in power.” Celeste’s lips parted slightly in understanding. So this wasn’t herself if she truly was the missing daughter, this wasn’t her father; this was his son. The heir she never knew existed. The brother she never grew up with.

Her heartbeat stumbled.

Ryan looked away briefly, his jaw tightening, as if steadying himself. When he looked back at her, something gentler flickered in his gaze but vanished almost immediately beneath the cool shield of leadership. “Your name?” he asked, voice steady again. Celeste hesitated. A thousand lies danced at the edge of her tongue—she could give a false name, hide who she was, keep her life from spiraling even further. But there was no point. She had already fallen into a truth she didn’t ask for.

“Celeste,” she whispered.

Ryan repeated it once under his breath. The name hit him like a blow, though he didn’t show more than a tightening of his fingers at his side. “Celeste,” he said aloud, heavier now, as if testing the weight of it. Maybe he heard his mother’s voice saying it. Perhaps he remembered the dedication ceremony he witnessed as a child, the last moment the baby girl existed in this pack.

Esha stepped forward, anxiety knotting her posture. “Alpha Ryan,” she said carefully, “we believe there is a possibility she is—” He held up a hand sharply without taking his eyes off Celeste. The room went still. Ryan finally looked at the doctors, his voice cutting through the air like a clean blade. “You believe she is my sister.” It wasn’t a question. Esha nodded. Leira swallowed hard.

Ryan exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with something Celeste couldn’t name. Shock. Pain. Hope. Every emotion he had was buried under the cold mask of an Alpha, the kind that learned too early how to control his heart.

“You ran tests,” Ryan said. “Medical. Blood markers.” Leira nodded. “We compared her DNA to the database recorded from Lady Seraphina—your mother, and her markers align. We also tested her compatibility with the pack mindlink. She can hear us, even without initiation.” Ryan’s eyes flicked back to Celeste. The shock in them was colder now, as if he were forcing himself not to react.

“The mindlink isn’t proof,” he said, even though everyone in the room felt the tremor under the words. “Some wolves with strong ancient bloodlines can hear nearby links, even without bond integration.” Jamin shifted uncomfortably. “Alpha, she doesn’t know her parents. She was brought to another pack as a baby, raised with no ties. And her resemblance to Lady Seraphina—”

Ryan’s jaw clenched. His voice was quieter, raw around the edges. “I remember my mother’s face.” His eyes moved to Celeste again. “And she looks exactly like her.”

Celeste’s breath caught. She stared down at her hands because she didn’t know where else to put her grief. A part of her wanted to lift her head, to ask all the questions buried in her soul—Was your mother kind? Did she love her daughter? Did she look for me? But she couldn’t. Her fear was bigger than her curiosity. If she accepted any of this too quickly, she might die a second time when the truth rejected her.

Ryan must have seen the panic building behind her silence because his voice dropped to something gentler—still Alpha, but softer now. “We are not going to tell my father yet,” he said, surprising everyone. Leira blinked. Esha’s eyes widened. Even Jamin straightened, startled.

Celeste looked up in confusion, meeting Ryan’s steady gaze. “Why?” she whispered.

Ryan’s expression hardened slightly. “I’m not raising his hope without evidence.” His voice was firm, the decision already carved into stone. “My father spent half his life searching for his child. It destroyed him. I won’t bring him a ghost unless I know she’s real.”

His gaze locked on Celeste again, deep, searching, unflinching. She felt that stare like a hand gripping her fate. “Until we conduct a full DNA verification,” Ryan said slowly, clearly, with Alpha authority sealing each word, “this stays between us in this room until the DNA is conducted and out.”

Result is out

I didn’t move for a long time after everyone left the room. The silence felt heavy, as if the air itself had memories I did not know how to carry. The moment Alpha Ryan walked out and the door closed behind him, everything inside me collapsed — not loud or dramatic, but in a quiet way that felt like drowning. A drowning that no one noticed because my face remained still. I stared at the ceiling above me, wondering how a day full of pain could suddenly become a day full of impossible questions. One moment, I was a banished Luna running from rogues; the next, I was sitting in a strange bed, being told I could be a daughter to a father who spent his entire life searching for a ghost. I pressed my hand against my chest, feeling the slow beat of my heart — as if it were unsure whether to hope or to bleed.

Hope. That was the problem. It was a dangerous, sharp thing. I had learned that the hard way with Kharl. I had loved him with all my innocence, believing that the mate bond would protect me, that love meant something sacred. I had slept next to him every night for three years, whispering prayers to the moon goddess that one day he would look at me the same way he looked at the titles he desired so much. But love wasn’t enough. Not when a whole pack wanted to see me break. Not when the man I trusted believed a lie so easily — that I was cursed, that I brought poison into his bloodline. The last time I hoped for something beautiful, it destroyed me.

I could still hear his voice from that night, sharp and merciless, cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could: “You were a mistake. I will forever regret the day I mated with you.” Those words sometimes repeated in my dreams like a command I couldn’t escape. Even now, lying in a luxurious clinic, roots of that pain wrapped around my heart, whispering that believing good things is foolish — because they always vanish. If I allowed myself to hope that I might be the lost daughter of Golden Sky Pack… what happens when the results say I am not? Will I break again? Will I be that girl standing in front of wolves who look at me like nothing? I don’t think I have the strength to survive another rejection.

I turned to my side, hugging my arms around myself. The sheets were warm, soft, comforting — so different from the cold stone floor of the corner house where I slept as a child. In Blood Moon Pack, I was the girl no one wanted. The orphan with no history. The chosen Luna who never fit the crown placed on her head. Even when I wore silks and walked next to Kharl at ceremonies, people still called me witch girl, still spat the word barren like it was my name. So what if I didn’t come from that pack at all? What if every insult, every nickname, every hateful look… was built upon a lie? My eyes stung, and I squeezed them shut. Part of me wanted to cry for that girl — the one who suffered without a reason, abandoned without a truth.

The doctors explained the story earlier: a baby stolen from her crib during a dedication ceremony, vanishing into the night while the pack was under attack. The parents — Alpha Ryder and Lady Seraphina — searching everywhere like mad wolves, turning every forest inside out, burning through allies and enemies alike. That kind of love sounded unreal to me, like something from the stories the corner house children used to tell themselves to fall asleep — the stories about parents who rescue their children, hold them, whisper their names like prayers. I never had that. I never had a name whispered with love, only spoken with obligation. Celeste. I never knew where it came from or who gave it to me. Was it them? Or did someone else give me this name before dropping me in someone’s arms to erase my past?

My mind kept circling the same questions until my thoughts tangled so tightly that I felt breathless. What if I am their daughter? What if I’m not? Both answers terrified me. If I’m not — I lose the possibility of belonging. If I am — then everything I knew about my life was stolen from me by someone cruel enough to take a newborn and bury her identity under lies. I don’t know which is worse. Being unwanted, or being wanted once and taken away.

I sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around my shoulders. The room was quiet, except for the occasional distant sounds of footsteps outside — healers moving, nurses talking, warriors exchanging short greetings as they passed the clinic hall. Somewhere beyond these walls, there was a man who once searched for his missing daughter until he broke himself trying to find her. If the story was real — if I am that daughter — then my existence is wrapped in someone else’s grief. How do you walk into a person’s life knowing your disappearance almost killed them? How do you meet a father who spent years praying for a child only to be handed tragedy?

A bitter laugh slipped out of me, small and sad. I used to dream of my parents sometimes during the lonely nights in Blood Moon Pack — especially when I was younger, before Khael came into my life. I imagined a mother who smelled like warm bread, a father who lifted me into the air and called me his little moon. But those dreams always faded in the morning, replaced by the reality of insults and chores and bruises on my ankles from racing away from older children who took pleasure in hurting the orphan girl. If those dreams belonged to Lady Seraphina and Alpha Ryder — then the universe played a cruel joke on all of us.

I pressed my palms into my eyes, breathing in deeply. The truth was somewhere in an envelope. A scientific answer to a life full of unanswered questions. A DNA test felt too small to carry a destiny this big — just a paper deciding whether I belonged to people I don’t know or if I was just a girl trying to survive. I wondered how many babies in this world had their worth measured by blood. My lip trembled. If the answer said no… I would still be a banished Luna with no pack, no family, no mate, no name. If it said yes… then everything before this moment becomes a nightmare someone else forced me to live.

I lay back, staring at the ceiling again. I didn’t want to jinx it by imagining anything — not happiness, not belonging, not love — because the universe has never been gentle with me. Every time I asked the moon for something beautiful, I was handed the opposite. So now, I tried not to want. Not to dream. Not to expect. Hope was a painful blade, and I have bled enough.

I focused on breathing instead — in and out — until calmer air settled in my lungs. But the memories kept coming. Kharl’s face when he banished me. The crowd cheering Lydia’s name. The Seer declaring that I was barren because I came from evil blood. The humiliation of being stripped of the Luna title without a single voice defending me. If Kharl had truly loved me, even a little, he would have questioned the Seer, fought for me, stood beside me for just a moment. Instead, he threw me away and then claimed it was for the “good of the pack.” My hands shook as I remembered his last words — regret and cruelty combined into something fatal. The time I spent being his mate felt like a curse, not a bond.

I was so lost in my thoughts that the knock on the door startled me, snapping the thread of memory. I sat up quickly, wiping the corner of my eye. The door opened slowly, and Ryan stepped in, closing it behind him with quiet care. He held an envelope in his hand — thick, sealed, official. My breath stopped. My heart forgot how to move. For a long second, he didn’t speak; he just looked at me — not as a leader looking at a stranger, but as a man who understood that the world inside one small envelope could shatter someone’s life or rebuild it from ashes.

He walked toward me, each step slow but certain, and when he reached the side of my bed, he sat in the chair next to it, resting the envelope on his knee. His eyes softened, barely visible through the armor he always wore, and he spoke in a voice that tried to be steady, even though something moved behind it.

“The result is out,” he said quietly. “I thought we might check it together.”