Moonbound:The alpha's awakening

Forgotten Bonds

The knock echoed softly, yet its weight sent a chill down Amara’s spine. Damian’s eyes narrowed as he moved toward the door, his body tensing like a coiled spring. Every muscle in his body seemed alert, a predator ready to strike.

“Stay back,” he ordered, his voice low but commanding.

Amara pressed herself against the cold wall, her pulse hammering in her ears. Her entire body felt like it was still trembling from the battle that had nearly killed them both. She hadn’t fully recovered, not physically or emotionally. What now? Who could have found them so quickly?

Damian’s hand hovered over the door handle, his hesitation betraying the confidence he usually wore like armor. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered toward her, and she thought she saw something in them—concern? Guilt? Before she could grasp it, he turned away.

In one swift motion, Damian pulled the door open. The tension in the room became palpable, thick like the air before a storm. A woman stood there, her appearance both fierce and broken. Her clothes were torn, her skin marred with cuts and bruises, but her eyes... her eyes burned with an intensity that sent a jolt of recognition through Amara.

She gasped softly, her mind flashing back to the fight. This woman—this was the one who had fought beside them, only to be left behind in the chaos.

“You knew I’d find you,” the woman spat, her voice tight with barely controlled fury.

Damian stood there, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I knew you would.”

The woman’s nostrils flared as she stepped inside, pushing past him with a stiffness that spoke of both pain and anger. Her movements were deliberate, sharp. Amara’s heart raced. She had expected hostility, but the fury radiating off this woman was like a physical force, charging the very air around them.

“You just left me,” the woman hissed, turning on Damian. The pain in her voice cut deeper than any physical wound. “You didn’t even look back.”

Amara’s stomach tightened as she watched the scene unfold. There was something between them, something far more personal than she had realized. The woman’s accusation hung heavy in the air, and Amara found herself holding her breath, waiting for Damian’s response.

“I had no choice,” Damian replied, his voice soft but steady. His eyes met the woman’s, but his expression remained calm, maddeningly calm. “You would’ve done the same.”

The woman let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You think that makes it better? That I would’ve done the same? You abandoned me, Damian.”

Her words were sharp, cutting through the room like shards of glass. Amara felt her chest tighten, her own confusion growing. Who was this woman to Damian? She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was intruding on something deeply personal, something she wasn’t supposed to witness.

“I didn’t abandon you,” Damian said quietly, but there was an edge to his voice now, something darker, something vulnerable. “I knew you’d survive.”

The woman’s laugh was harsher this time, filled with disbelief. “Knew I’d survive?” She stepped closer to him, her voice rising. “You didn’t even check if I made it. You just—” her voice broke, the anger giving way to something deeper, more painful. “You just left.”

Damian remained silent, his eyes locking with hers. The faint smile that had played on his lips was gone now, replaced by something unreadable.

Amara’s heart raced, and she couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Who is she?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Both Damian and the woman turned toward her, as if they had momentarily forgotten her presence. The woman’s eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing as it landed on Amara. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that feels like it’s dragging everything down with it. Amara shifted uncomfortably, her mind scrambling for an explanation, but none came.

Then the woman’s lips curled into a mocking smile, though it was devoid of any warmth. “I’m the one he forgot,” she said, her voice laced with venom, her eyes flicking back to Damian. “His sister.”

Amara’s heart skipped a beat. Sister? That word hit her like a punch to the gut. She hadn’t expected that. The fierce, angry woman before her was Damian’s sister? Amara stared at Damian, her mind reeling, struggling to reconcile this new information with what little she knew about him.

Damian exhaled softly, the faint smile returning to his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “Elena.”

Elena’s expression remained hard, unyielding, though Amara could see the pain beneath her anger. It was as if she had been carrying the weight of betrayal on her shoulders, and seeing Damian now only intensified that burden.

“Don’t think that smile gets you off the hook,” Elena snapped, her voice cutting through the room like a blade.

Amara shifted uncomfortably, feeling like a spectator in a confrontation she had no right to witness. She had been prepared for another enemy at the door, but not this—a sibling’s betrayal, a wound deeper than any physical scar. The dynamic between Damian and Elena was more complicated than she had ever imagined.

Damian’s face softened slightly, though he didn’t argue. “I didn’t forget you.”

Elena’s laugh was hollow, filled with bitterness. “You left me to die, Damian. What else would you call it?”

“I knew you’d find me,” he said, his voice low, calm in the face of her storm.

“And what if I hadn’t?” Elena shot back. “What if I hadn’t made it? Would you have cared?”

Amara watched Damian closely, saw the flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or guilt—but it was gone before she could be sure.

“I would’ve cared,” Damian said quietly. “More than you know.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with the unspoken emotions swirling between them. Amara felt like an outsider in their world, witnessing the remnants of a bond that had been stretched to its breaking point. She could see the pain in Elena’s eyes, the way she masked it with anger, and she could see Damian’s regret, buried beneath his calm exterior.

Elena let out a shaky breath, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of the emotion threatening to spill over. “You better hope that care extends to the mess we’re in now,” she muttered. “Because they’re closing in.”

Damian’s expression darkened. “Did they follow you?”

Elena’s gaze flicked toward the window, her jaw tightening. “They were right on my tail. We don’t have much time.”

Amara’s pulse quickened at the mention of the wolves. Her chest tightened with fear. She wasn’t ready for another fight, not after the last one. The thought of facing them again made her knees weak.

“We need to move,” Damian said, his voice snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. He turned toward the window, peering out cautiously. “We have five minutes, maybe less.”

Elena’s lips curled into a cold smile as she glanced at Amara. “I hope she’s not dead weight.”

Amara’s throat tightened at the insult, but she forced herself to stay silent. There was no point in defending herself now. Elena didn’t trust her, and she couldn’t blame her. But she couldn’t afford to be a burden, not now. Not when everything was hanging by a thread.

Damian turned back to face them, his voice steady and sure. “Grab what you can. We’re leaving.”

Amara swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she moved to gather her things. The reality of the situation pressed down on her, heavier than ever. This wasn’t just about survival—it was about proving she belonged with them. Proving she wasn’t dead weight.