Bound to the Alpha Twins

Ashen Ridge

The night sky hovered over my frame as I walked through the packlands on my way home. The path stretched out before me, lonely and dauntingly long.

It was at times like this that I regretted living on literally the other side of the park, Ashen Ridge. And just like the name suggested, it was home to the lower class, the omegas, who sat pretty at the bottom of the hierarchy.

The streetlights brightened the roads in such a way that it swallowed the darkness whole and nearly made me forget the hour, stealing away my fear for the dark.

I inhaled a breath, greedily pumping as much air into my lungs as possible. It felt good to be alone, to be away from the prying eyes of people, as I had been at the ball.

The night's weather was good, the kind that made Mother say, "Bless the Moon Goddess, for she has decided to spread her love as a shield over us."

The moon was out and proud in all her glory. Her many children, the stars, surrounded her, dancing and singing.

I walked slower than usual, dragging my feet across the pavement. There was no rush to reach home, not when my mind was still spinning from everything that had happened.

The ball felt like a distant memory now, something that had happened to someone else. But the bond was still there, humming lightly beneath my skin, a reminder that nothing would ever be the same.

I thought about the twins. Trust me, I could not help it. Their faces kept appearing behind my closed eyes every time I blinked. Lucian with his calm, measured voice, the way he said my name like he was tasting it. Kaelan with his barely leashed intensity, the hunger in his eyes that made my stomach do flips even now.

What did they see when they looked at me? Not the girl who mended clothes and helped out in the healing house. Not the Omega who kept her head down and never caused trouble. Something else. Something I did not recognize in myself.

I wrapped my arms around my torso, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the night.

My mind drifted further back, to the stories Mother used to tell me about mates. I must have been six or seven, sitting on her lap by the fire, asking her why some wolves had mates and others did not. She had laughed and said the Moon Goddess had a plan for everyone, even if we could not see it.

"Even me?" I'd asked.

"Especially you," she'd said, and there had been something in her voice that I had not understood then.

I understand it now.

The bond was supposed to be a gift, something to be celebrated. But all I could feel was this weight of it pressing down on me, the knowledge that my life was no longer my own.

I had spent fourteen years learning how to be invisible, how to survive by never being noticed. And now the Moon Goddess had decided to drag me into the light.

I stopped walking for a moment, tilting my head back to look at the moon. She hung low, her face full and watching. I wondered if she was laughing at me, this girl who had wanted nothing more than to fade into the background, now tied to the two most powerful wolves in Silver Fang.

My mother had always said the Moon Goddess had a sense of humor. I had never believed her until now.

I started walking again, my boots scuffing against the pavement. The cottages of Ashen Ridge were coming into view now, small and humble, nothing like the grandeur of the Grand Hall. This was where I belonged. Not in a room adorned with extravagant ornaments, not standing before Alphas who stared as though they could see through my soul.

Yet.

I thought of the way Kaelan had leaned forward, his voice low when he said, "Do you understand what this means for all of us?" Not just for me. For all of us. As if I was already part of their equation, already woven into whatever future they were planning.

I thought of Lucian's hand on his brother's wrist, holding him back. The restraint there, the control. He was giving me time, he had said. Use it wisely.

Time for what? To decide if I wanted them? To decide if I was brave enough to accept what the Moon Goddess had laid at my feet?

My wolf stirred, a soft nudge against my ribs. Not demanding, not impatient. Just… present.

'Do not shrink,' she had said earlier. 'Do not falter.'

Easy for her to say. She was not the one who had to walk into Ashen Ridge tomorrow and pretend nothing had changed. She was not the one who had to face Pilar's questions, or the whispers that were surely already spreading through the pack.

I stopped at the edge of the ridge, looking down at the row of cottages where the omegas lived. Our cottage was at the very end, the smallest one, the one with the crooked chimney and the garden that Mother tended with more love than skill. It wasn't much, but it was ours. It had been so for the last fourteen years.

I thought about the night we arrived, me barely eight years old, clutching Mother's hand as we stood on this very spot. She had looked down at the ridge and said, "This is our fresh start. No one knows us here. We can be anyone we want to be."

She had chosen for us to be small. To be quiet. To be safe.

Now, I was standing here, the mate bond humming in my chest, and I was not sure I could be small anymore.

I thought about the first year we spent here, how Mother had worked herself to the bone to prove we deserved to stay. How she had smiled through the exhaustion, always telling me that Silver Fang was better than where we had come from. She never spoke of our old home, not after the first few years. But sometimes at night, I would hear her whispering to herself in a language I did not recognize, and I knew she was still there, still carrying whatever we had left behind.

I had never asked her what we were running from. I had been too young, and then too afraid of the answer.

But now, with the bond pulling me toward a future I had never imagined, I found myself wondering. What if our past was not something to hide from? What if it was something I needed to understand?

A light flickered on in our cottage window. Mother was still awake, waiting for me.

I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs. My legs were tired, my mind was tired, but there was something settling in my chest that had not been there before. Not courage, not yet. But maybe the first whisper of it.

I took a step toward the cottage, then another. The path was familiar, worn smooth by years of my own footsteps. I knew every crack in the stone, every place where the grass grew a little thicker. This was my home. This was who I was.

But maybe, for the first time, I could let myself imagine being something more.

I was almost at the door when Mother's voice drifted through the window, soft and familiar.

"Ophelia? Is that you?"

I stopped, my hand hovering over the latch. For a moment I did not answer. I just stood there, feeling the bond thrum.

Then I pushed the door open.

"It's me, Mother. I'm home."