THE ALPHAS LOST LUNA

Chapter 5

For several minutes after Ronan left, I stayed exactly where I was. The fire had burned low enough that the room was beginning to lose its warmth, but I didn’t bother adding another log. I sat against the headboard with the blanket gathered around my legs, staring into the flames and trying to decide which part of my life had become a lie first. My parents weren’t my parents. The house I’d grown up in wasn’t really mine. The ordinary life I’d spent years complaining about, the same life I’d spent years wishing was more interesting, had apparently been built around a secret so enormous that I couldn’t even see its edges yet.

And somehow, the strangest part was that I still wanted to go home. I wanted my room. I wanted the familiar creak in the hallway outside it, the sound of doors opening and closing in the mornings, the smell of food drifting through the kitchen. I wanted the stupid arguments over training schedules and patrols. I wanted things I had been trying so hard to escape only a few hours ago. Maybe that was the cruelest part. I’d walked into the forest believing I was leaving a life that no longer fit me, only to wake up somewhere completely unfamiliar and discover that I hadn’t even known what my life was made of.

A quiet knock came from the door. Ronan pushed it open with two mugs in his hands.

“I brought tea.”

“I don’t know whether that’s comforting or suspicious.”

“You’ve been unconscious for hours. Tea is less suspicious than most alternatives.”

He crossed the room and held one of the mugs toward me. I took it cautiously, lifting it close enough to smell the cinnamon before taking a small sip. It was warm, sweet, and annoyingly good.

“What’s in it?”

“Tea.”

“I’m asking whether you put something in it.”

Ronan stared at me for a second. “You think I’m drugging you?”

“I think you’re suspicious.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“I’m cautious.”

A reluctant laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I immediately looked down at my tea.

Ronan pulled the chair closer to the fireplace and sat, resting his forearms against his knees. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I woke up in somebody else’s life.”

The humor disappeared from his face.

“What was he like?” I asked after a moment. “My father. What was he actually like?”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, his expression softened completely. He looked into the flames for several seconds before answering. “Stubborn. The kind of man who could walk into a room full of people arguing and somehow make everyone believe they’d reached the conclusion he wanted without realizing he’d led them there. He was also fiercely loyal. If you belonged to him, he’d tear the world apart before he let someone hurt you.”

Something tightened behind my ribs. “Sounds like you admired him.”

“I did. I still do.”

There was something in the way he said it that made me stop teasing. I looked down at my hands.

“Did he love my mother?”

“Very much.” The answer came so quickly that I looked up. He didn’t look away. “I know what your father felt for her. What I don’t know is everything about where she came from. She loved him. She loved you. She was part of the decision to hide you. That’s what I know.”

“Do you think she knew what was going to happen?”

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “I think your parents knew they were in danger. I don’t know what your mother knew about the attack. I don’t know what she expected to happen. I don’t know whether she thought you’d be safe after they were gone. I’d be lying if I told you otherwise.”

The words hurt more than I expected. I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug.

“What about the people who raised me? Did they know I wasn’t their biological daughter?”

“They knew you had been entrusted to them by your real parents. I don’t know exactly how much they were told about your parentage.”

I laughed bitterly. “This is unbelievable.”

“You’re right to be angry. You’re right to question what you were told. And you’re right not to trust everything simply because I said it.”

That shut me up. Not because I agreed with him. Because I hadn’t expected him to admit it.

“What happens now?”

“That depends on you. You can leave. You can go back to your pack. To Kael.”

I noticed the slight hesitation and narrowed my eyes. “You’re hiding something.”

His mouth twitched despite himself. “I’ve been watching you for years, Heaven. You talk about him more than you realize.”

My face warmed. “That’s creepy.”

“I was protecting you.”

“That’s literally creeping with better intentions.”

He laughed. It was the first genuine laugh I’d heard from him. For a second the room felt less heavy.

I looked down at my tea. “I don’t know if I want to go back. I miss it. I hate that I miss it, but I do. I miss my room. I miss the pack. I even miss people who annoyed me.” My voice faltered slightly. “I miss him.”

Ronan nodded. “You don’t have to decide anything tonight. But understand this: the moment your powers fully wake, the seal your father put on you is gone. And once that happens, the people who hunted your bloodline will have a way to find you again. Staying here keeps you off their radar for now. Going back to the pack does not.”

The words settled heavy in my chest.

He stood. “Get dressed. You’re coming outside.”

“Why?”

“To learn what you can do. We’re starting slowly.”

I set the mug down. “And if I say no?”

“You can say no. I don’t think your life is going to be easy from here either way.”

I hated how quickly the humor disappeared from his face. He opened the door, told me to come when I was ready, and left. I stared after him, muttered “Unbelievable,” and heard his voice come back from the hallway: “I heard that.” I smiled despite myself.

The house looked completely different during the day. At night, darkness had hidden its size. In the morning I realized the place was much larger than I’d assumed. Long corridors branched away from the central hall, lined with old portraits and faded tapestries. Most of the people in the paintings wore the same expression of severe importance, as though smiling had been considered a weakness in whatever era they’d lived through.

He pushed open the back door. Cold air swept over us. I immediately regretted not bringing a heavier coat. The land stretched beyond the house in every direction, thick forest enclosing the estate so completely that it was difficult to imagine a road anywhere nearby. Mist clung between the trees in thin white ribbons, and the grass was wet beneath my boots. The air carried the cool, damp scent of the Highlands — wet earth, pine, and something older that seemed to rise from the stones themselves.

Ronan walked toward a clearing. I followed. The clearing contained a circle of large stones, each one weathered and darkened with age. They were arranged too deliberately to have formed naturally, and the moment I saw them, something inside my chest tightened.

I stopped.

Ronan noticed. “You feel it.”

“Yes.”

He looked at the stones. “This is where your father trained when he stayed here.”

I stared at him. “My father was here?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I’ve asked you approximately five hundred questions since I woke up.”

“You’ve asked about your parents, your powers, your mother, your childhood, your family, your death, your adoptive parents, and whether I drugged your tea.”

“You see how busy I’ve been.”

That earned a brief smile. He nodded toward the stones. “Come here.”

I approached slowly. The pressure beneath my ribs grew stronger with every step.

Ronan’s expression became serious. “Don’t touch them.”

My hand stopped inches above the nearest stone. I looked at him. “I wasn’t going to.”

“You were.”

“I was thinking about it.”

“Which is usually how touching things begins.”

I lowered my hand. “What happens if I do?”

“I don’t know.”

I stared at him. “You really need to stop saying that.”

“I’d rather say I don’t know than lie to you.”

“You’re getting very comfortable with that sentence.”

“Because you’re getting very comfortable asking questions nobody has answers to.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Ronan stepped into the centre of the circle. “Come here. Close your eyes. Don’t try to force anything. Just listen.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. The wind moved through the trees. Somewhere nearby, water ran over stone. A bird called from deep within the forest. Then I felt it. A faint vibration beneath my ribs. It pulsed again. Once. Twice. Slow and steady.

“Ronan.”

“I’m here. Don’t fight it.”

The pressure spread from my chest through my shoulders and down my arms. Heat gathered in my palms, but it wasn’t the violent surge I’d experienced in the forest. This was different. Quieter. More deliberate. Almost like whatever was inside me had realized I was listening. The sounds around me became sharper. I could hear leaves shifting against one another, the tiny movements of creatures beneath the brush, even Ronan’s breathing a few feet away. Then I heard something else. A second heartbeat. Not mine.

My eyes opened. A faint silver shimmer moved beneath the skin of my hands. Then it vanished.

“What the hell…”

“Again,” Ronan said.

Before I could argue, a branch snapped somewhere beyond the clearing. Ronan’s entire demeanor changed. The humor vanished from his face. He turned toward the trees.

“Stay here, Heaven.”

Something in his voice made me stop joking. He was already walking toward the trees. “Don’t move.” Then he disappeared into the forest.

I waited. A minute passed. Then another. Nothing. I told myself it was an animal. A branch giving way. The forest settling. Then the birds stopped singing. Every single one. The silence was so complete that I could hear my own breathing.

My hands began to tingle. I looked down. Silver light gathered beneath my skin. The stones around me began to hum. The vibration traveled through my boots and up my legs. Then a whisper brushed through the clearing. Soft. Feminine. Familiar.

For a second the clearing disappeared. I was back in a burning hall, smoke choking the air while a woman reached for me through the flames. Her face was still impossible to see clearly, but the feeling she stirred inside me was unmistakable. Warmth. Fear. Something that felt like home and loss at the same time. Mother.

Mother.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

The silver beneath my skin brightened. The air shifted. Then I heard it. My name.

“Heaven.”

I stopped breathing. I turned toward the trees. For one impossible second I saw the outline of a woman standing between them. Dark hair. Pale face. A familiar shape I couldn’t place and somehow recognized all at once. I took a step toward her. “Wait.”

She disappeared. The silver light went out. Sound crashed back into the clearing.

Ronan emerged from the trees at almost the same moment. He took one look at my face and stopped.

“What happened?”

“Someone said my name. I thought I saw someone. The woman from the vision. My mother.”

For several seconds he didn’t say anything. Then, quietly, “You saw her?”

“I think so. I don’t know what I saw, Ronan. I was standing here and then I heard my name, and for one second she was there. I don’t know if she was actually there or if I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re not. I felt it. I felt the magic. Whatever called to you just now was strong enough that I felt it from the trees. That kind of power doesn’t stay hidden forever. And when it wakes fully, others will feel it too.”

I stared at him. “You know more than you’re telling me.”

“I know that something happened. Not everything you don’t know is something I’m hiding.”

I exhaled sharply and turned away. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

He almost smiled. I caught it.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t smile.”

I laughed. It came out unexpectedly, a little breathless and shaky, but it was real. Ronan’s expression softened.

I looked toward the stones. “Why did they respond to me?”

“Those stones haven’t responded to anyone in years. Long enough that people stopped expecting them to. I think they’re recognizing something in you.”

I looked down at my hands. All my life I’d thought the strange emptiness inside me was simply part of who I was. Something missing. Something I couldn’t name. I’d spent years assuming everyone else had some piece of themselves that I didn’t, some instinct or strength or certainty that had somehow passed me by. Now I was beginning to wonder if the opposite had been true. Maybe there had never been an emptiness. Maybe there had only been something buried so deeply that I had mistaken its silence for absence. And now that something was done being quiet.

Ronan started toward the house. I followed.

“I’m staying,” I said. “I’m not saying I trust you completely. I don’t. I don’t know you well enough for that, and you have about a thousand secrets you refuse to answer. But I’m staying. I need to know what happened to my parents. I need to know why I was hidden. I need to understand what happened out there. Whatever is inside me, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of it. And if the people who killed them are still out there, I’d rather face that knowing the truth than go back to a pack that never knew who I really was.”

Ronan studied me for a moment before nodding. “Then tomorrow we begin properly.”

“For someone who spent twenty years protecting me, you’re surprisingly annoying.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “For someone who just discovered she’s been living under a false identity, you’re surprisingly mouthy.”

“I’ve always been mouthy.”

“I know.”

I stopped. He looked back at me, already smiling.

“Don’t.”

“Sorry.”

“You are absolutely not sorry.”

“No.”

I shook my head, but I was smiling too. For the first time since I’d woken in that strange house, I didn’t feel quite so alone.

I looked back once more at the forest. Somewhere beyond those trees, a voice had called my name. And if Ronan was right, whatever had been buried inside me wasn’t waking quietly. It was announcing that I was alive.

For twenty years, the world had believed Heaven was dead. I had believed I was ordinary. Now both of us were wrong.