His Broken Luna

Chapter3

“Hey, listen,” James started, his voice calm and a hint of gentleness to it. “We are not going to harm you. Our alpha is big on ensuring everyone feels welcome here, no matter how you came to be. We know that not every rogue is dangerous; you have already approached us appropriately and have shown no intent to harm our packs or us.”

For some reason, I felt I could trust him. I mean, why not? They haven’t shown any reason for me to doubt what they are saying. They have shown me more kindness than I have seen in years. My shoulders relaxed a bit, exhaling the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Yeah, and you’ll really like our Alpha,” Jeremiah said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “He can be a brute sometimes—and honestly a little unhinged—but deep down, he’s actually a really good guy.” The mention of their alpha sends a racing chill down my spine, and I feel the muscles in my stomach tighten. My thoughts immediately spiraled toward memories I have tried for years to push down, to bury.

What if he is like him? What if he is a monster behind charm and smiles? What if this is a trap? Fear crept slowly up my neck as I felt an invisible force grip my throat, making it hard to breathe, and I forced myself to take slow, steady breaths. My hands curled tightly in my lap while I fought to keep my expression calm, refusing to let the panic show on my face. “Calm yourself, Samira,” my wolf voice murmured in my mind in a soft hush tone. She’s here, she's always here. I closed my eyes and let the feel of her presence calm me. “He’s no longer a problem. I’m here for you. I scent no ill intent with these pups. You are safe….but stay alert.”

I take a steadying breath and relax back into the seat, and stare out the window. I remained silent for the rest of the ride.

As we approached the pack house, my eyes widened with complete captivation at the sight of it. It was beautiful to say the least. The massive home stood three stories high, towering against the setting sun, as something pulled straight from a dream. It is without doubt one of the most beautiful homes I have ever seen. Most pack houses were nice, but this one was gorgeous in its own right; it was breathtaking. Two tall white pillars framed the entrance, making the home feel almost regal. As we got closer, a wide stone pathway stretched out before us, perfectly curved into a circular driveway, which led to an arch doorway with a crystalized entrance. The exterior is painted in soft, creamy tones that give a summer glow under the sunlight. The woods that surrounded the house, shadows dance across the impressive structure, softening the home and making it feel alive–welcoming. A small smile crossed my face, and I quickly wiped it from my face as the truck came to a stop.

Jeremiah and James hopped out of the truck. Jeremiah turned and opened my door and gestured for me to get out. I toss my backpack over my shoulder and follow them to the front entrance. I scanned my surroundings and noticed a few pack members eyeing me and whispering as they went about the pack business. I ignored them and continued behind the boys. As we stepped onto the porch, an older woman was standing with her arms folded across her chest. She was beautiful, her chesnut skin glimmering beneath the late summer rays, catching the light in soft, golden undertones. Her black, thick hair was cut into a shoulder-length bob that framed her face, giving her an air of elegance while still holding a youthful charm. She appeared to be in her mid-forties, but shifters age at a slower rate than humans, so there is no telling how old she actually is. Wolves typically have very long life spans.

“Jeremiah Elisas Stone, you better have my clothes in that truck, or you betta hope the moon goddess will spare you.”

“Ma, listen,” he says, holding his hands up in defense. “There is a valid, very understandable reason why I will be picking up your dry cleaner tomorrow instead of tonight.”

She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him.”And why is that?”

He steps to the side, and I move forward, appearing as if from thin air; her eyes widen. Their size made it easy to stay hidden as we approached her. Jeremiah was far from small; he carried a solid, stocky build that filled the space around him. He didn’t have a gut, but you could tell he could put a meal away. James, on the other hand, reminded me of a clean-cut, no-nonsense type of person. He only had a few inches on Jeremiah, with a slimmer build overall, but there was nothing slight about him. Muscle still defined his frame beneath his clothes, controlled and intentional rather than bulky. He moved with quiet discipline, the kind that suggested he always knew exactly where he was going and why.

She brushed past the boys and gently grabbed my hands. “Oh, you poor girl, what's your name, honey?” I could see the genuine concern in her eyes.

“Samira….Samira Winters.” I said with my eyes lowered to the ground. She lifted my chin with her forefinger. “Hi Samira.” She smiled warmly at me, the expression softening that felt genuine. I met her gaze, my attention caught in her soft, greyish-hazel eyes. “Welcome to the Blackwood pack.”

She lifted my chin with her forefinger. “Hi Samira.” She smiled warmly at me, the expression softening that felt genuine. I met her gaze, my attention caught in her soft, greyish-hazel eyes. “Welcome to the Blackwood pack.”

I took a step back and lowered my gaze to the ground, looking at her shoes. “Thank you,” I murmur.

“My name is Amara Stone, and my oldest son is the current alpha of this pack. He will be here shortly to speak with you. You have nothing to fear, my child; no harm will come to you here,” she cups my face, bringing my eyes back to hers. “I promise.”

She finally took a step back and looked me over. I stood silent, aware as her eyes traveled from head to toe, taking in every detail she hadn’t noticed before, I started to fidget under her stare. When her eyes settled back on my face, the warmth was still there, but there was something else…pity. A look I know all too well now. Her smile faltered slightly; if I were staring at her, I would have missed it. “You are strong. What we have been through, you have been through, have no choice but to be strong.” Nova perks up, reassuring me. She has been making her presence known more often recently, due to the constant traveling and shifting without adequate meals. She normally stays quiet to reserve energy, only speaking if only absolute needed.

She clears her throat, bringing my attention back to her. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? You seem quite young to be a rogue.”

“I’m 22, I lost my pack when I was 17.” The words leave my mouth heavier than I expected. I’ve said this line a hundred times before, and it never gets easier. The moment lenaded, everyone seems to go still. Shocked rippled across their faces; it wasn’t just surprise but disbelief that I had lasted as long as I did for so long. I looked back at my torn and worn shoes.

I felt a warm hand at my back, and I looked up to see Amara's warm gaze back on me. She smiled warmly at me. “I’m sorry for your loss. I couldn’t imagine what you have been through.”

I felt the tears burn in the back of my eyes, threatening to escape, but that was soon interrupted by a low, menacing growl. My head snapped toward the sound, and the breath left me all at once. Standing there was the most beautiful man I have ever seen. With his deep, rich brown skin with a smooth, even tone that caught the light in a natural hue. He was handsome in a well-defined, but balanced, with an effortless calm that made him seem controlled rather than harsh. His presence alone carried a heaviness, but it was those eyes that held everything still. Dark emerald, with hazel specks in his eyes. His eyes were steady and focused, on me, unreadable yet intense enough to make it impossible to look away from him.

Then he said the words I dreaded the most.

"Mate."