Moonlit Bonds

Chapter3

I nodded, exhaustion settling into my bones. "I need to leave. Tonight. Before they come back."

"No." The word came simultaneously from three throats—Mateo and both Alphas.

"You're not running again," Maison continued. "This is Steel territory. They have no right to hunt here."

"You don't understand," I whispered. "Dominick won't stop. He can't afford to let me live."

"Because you're the rightful heir," Jackson said, understanding dawning in his eyes. "The last of your father's line."

I swallowed hard. "I’ll open the escape tunnel to the Steel Fangs pack house, not looking forward to what your father has to say about this I was to stay as far away from the both of you as possible. Done a great job of that one, haven’t I? Not like it matters now right. Even better the rest of the asshats are here Beta Dean, Delta Carter and Gamma Tristan always a pleasure.”

I turned to find the rest of Maison's unit standing in the doorway, their expressions ranging from confusion to suspicion. Beta Dean looked particularly smug, as if he'd just discovered a juicy secret.

"Well, well," Dean drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "The weird drive-thru girl is actually someone important. Who would've thought?"

"Shut up, Dean," Maison growled without looking back at his Beta.

I straightened my shoulders, refusing to appear weak in front of them. "I'm nobody important. Just a complication you don't need."

Tristan stepped forward, his usual joking demeanour absent. "Those guys who came in—they're Graystone scouts. I recognised the taller one from the Northern Territory summit last year."

Carter nodded. "They've been expanding their reach, pushing boundaries with several packs. Logan's been tracking their movements for months."

The revelation that Alpha Logan was already monitoring my uncle's pack sent a chill down my spine. How much did he know? How much had he kept from me?

"This changes nothing," I said firmly. "I need to disappear before they connect me to you. The last thing the Steel Fangs pack needs is a blood feud with the Graystones."

Maison's jaw tightened. "It's already too late for that. They saw us intervene."

"Then say I'm just an employee you were protecting," I countered. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

Something flickered in Maison's eyes—hurt, maybe? It disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it.

"We're not abandoning you," Jackson said with surprising gentleness. "That's not how our pack operates."

Dean scoffed. "Since when is she pack?"

“f**k you too Dean feel free to f**k off at anytime asshole.” I spat back.

Dean's eyes flashed gold, his lips curling into a snarl. "Watch your tongue, stray. You forget your place."

"That's enough," Maison snapped, stepping between us. The authority in his voice made even Dean back down immediately. "We don't have time for this."

Uncle Mateo moved to the back wall, pressing his palm against what appeared to be an ordinary section of tile. A soft beep sounded, and a hidden panel slid open, revealing a narrow corridor illuminated by soft blue lights.

"The tunnel is ready," he said. "I've already alerted Logan. He's expecting us."

I hesitated, looking around at the faces watching me. These people—these wolves—had been part of my carefully constructed fake life for years now. Uncle Mateo was the only constant, the only one who knew the full truth. And now everything was crumbling because two strangers had walked into the diner with a photograph.

"Fine," I said finally. "But I'm not making any decisions until I've spoken with Alpha Logan."

Maison nodded. "Fair enough. We'll take point." He glanced at his brother. "Jackson, you and Carter bring up the rear. Dean, Tristan, secure the diner before following."

The efficiency with which they moved spoke of years of training together. Within moments, we were filing into the hidden tunnel, the panel sliding shut behind us with a soft click.

The passage was narrow but tall enough to stand comfortably. The walls were reinforced concrete, the floor smooth beneath our feet. Every twenty feet or so, recessed blue lights illuminated our way.

"How long has this been here?" I asked Uncle Mateo as we moved swiftly through the tunnel.

"Since before we opened Sneakz," he replied. "Logan insisted on it. Said you needed an escape route that bypassed public spaces."

I processed this information silently. More planning, more secrets—all revolving around keeping me hidden, keeping me safe. A lifetime of looking over my shoulder, of never belonging anywhere.

"Did my father know?" I asked quietly. "That it would come to this?"

Uncle Mateo's expression softened with grief. "Your father hoped for peace until his last breath. But he was also pragmatic. He made arrangements... just in case."

"With Logan Steel?" I pressed. "They weren't even in the same territory."

"Your father had allies in places even Dominick didn't know about," he answered cryptically.

Ahead of us, Maison's shoulders tensed at our conversation, though he didn't turn around. His heightened hearing would catch every word, of course. I wondered how much of my history Logan had shared with his sons.

The tunnel began to slope upward gradually, and after what felt like at least a mile, we reached another panel. Maison placed his palm against it, and it slid open to reveal a well-appointed room that I recognized as part of the Steel pack's main compound I found the nearest chair and sank on to it. Tears that I wasn’t allowed to let fall and just couldn’t let fall began to fall like a tidal wave. Great even better could this day get any worse.

"Don't cry," Maison said, his voice gentler than I'd ever heard it. He crouched down in front of me, not touching me but close enough that his scent enveloped me like a blanket. "We'll figure this out."

I wiped my tears away angrily, embarrassed at showing weakness. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."

The door to the room opened, and Alpha Logan Steel strode in. Unlike his sons, who carried their authority with a certain restrained intensity, Logan wore his power like a second skin—comfortable, natural, undeniable. His silver-streaked dark hair was pulled back in a short ponytail, and his eyes—the same piercing green as Jackson's—assessed the situation instantly.

"Marabelle," he said, using my real name with a gentleness that made fresh tears threaten.

"It's just Daisy now," I corrected automatically.

Logan smiled sadly. "Of course. Old habits." He turned to Uncle Mateo. "Everything secure at Sneakz?"

"For now," Uncle Mateo confirmed. "We've initiated Protocol Seven. The staff believes there was a gas leak requiring evacuation. The building is sealed."

Logan nodded approvingly before addressing his sons. "Report."

Jackson stepped forward. "Two Graystone scouts entered the diner approximately forty minutes ago. They had Daisy's photo—her real identity, not her cover. They made no direct threats but implied they've been searching for her. We intervened, establishing her as under Steel Fangs protection without confirming her identity."

"They were followed?" Logan asked.

"Heading north," Maison confirmed. "Our trackers are maintaining distance but keeping eyes on them."

Logan absorbed this information with a short nod before turning back to me. "It seems your grace period is over, Daisy. We need to discuss next steps."

"Next steps?" I laughed hollowly. "I've been running and hiding for years. What's next—more running? A new identity? A new pack to hover on the edges of?"

"Actually," Logan said, taking a seat across from me, "I think it's time we stopped running and started fighting back."

The room fell silent. Even Uncle Mateo looked shocked.

"Fighting back?" I repeated. "Against the Graystone Pack? They're one of the oldest bloodlines in North America."

"So are the Steels," Jackson pointed out, a hint of pride in his voice.

"And so are the Graystones," I countered, touching my pendant unconsciously. "My pendant—my birthright—doesn't change the fact that Dominick has the pack's loyalty now."

Logan's expression turned grave. "Not all of them. There's been unrest in the Graystone territories for years. Your father's old allies have been waiting, watching... hoping you would return."

I stared at him, my mind spinning. "Return? I can't, I was exiled, remember which means I’m nothing more than an Omega at best or a Rogue at worst. Or what was the stray, as some of the Steel Fangs pack members call me. Honestly, I’m already tired of this conversation we’re just going to go around and around I just need some time on my own to think.”

"Fine," Logan said, rising from his seat. "Take some time. But not too much—Dominick's scouts won't waste any time reporting back." He gestured to a door on the far side of the room. "There's a guest suite through there. You'll be safe here."

I stood, desperate to escape the weight of their stares. "Thank you, Alpha Logan."

As I moved toward the door, Maison stepped forward. "I'll escort you."

"I don't need a babysitter," I muttered, but didn't object further when he fell into step beside me.

The guest suite was elegant but impersonal—neutral tones, plush furniture, and a distinct lack of anything that might hint at the personality of its occupant. Temporary accommodations for temporary people. Story of my life.

"There are clothes in the closet," Maison said, lingering in the doorway. "Probably not your style, but they should fit."

I nodded, keeping my back to him as I surveyed the room. "Thank you."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. I could feel his eyes on me, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

"Why do you hate me?" The question escaped before I could stop it.

"What?" His voice registered genuine surprise.

I turned to face him. "All these years. The cold shoulders, the dismissive looks. Your pack treating me like I'm some kind of charity case or burden. If I'm such an important asset to protect, why treat me like dirt?"

Maison's expression shifted through several emotions before settling on something like regret. "I never hated you."

"Could have fooled me."

He ran a hand through his dark hair, a surprisingly human gesture from someone who always seemed so controlled. "Distance was... safer."

"Safer for whom?"

"For everyone." His eyes met mine, intense and unreadable. "The fewer people who knew your importance, the better. Even within our pack."

I crossed my arms. "So the constant disdain was, what, an act?"

"Not entirely," he admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "You're frustratingly stubborn."

Despite everything, I felt a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. "Takes one to know one, Alpha."

Something flickered in his eyes at my use of his title—something hungry that disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it.

"Get some rest," he said, stepping back into the hallway. "We'll talk more later."

The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the phantom sensation of his gaze still lingering on my skin.

I moved to the window, pulling back heavy curtains to reveal reinforced glass overlooking the Steel Fangs pack's inner courtyard. Warriors trained in pairs below, their movements fluid and deadly. Pack members crossed between buildings, some carrying supplies, others deep in conversation. Normal life, continued despite the chaos that had happened.

I walked over to the bed, completely shattered by what had happened, I took the small notebook that I always kept in my pocket that I wrote notes into it. I had been working on a story for some time now but now that my laptop was stuck in my room in the apartment above Sneakz there was no chance of me getting to work on it. I jotted down my notes and than laid down on the pillows reliantly I fell asleep, knowing whatever happened from here there was no going back.