His Missing Luna

CHAPTER 81

AMERIE

FAMILY TALK

A soft knock taps at my door, followed by a gentle voice. “Amerie?”

They say that’s my real name. Not Jessica.

“Are you awake?” It’s the voice of the woman who says she’s my mother.

Slowly, I rise from the couch, straightening the gown they gave me to wear. “Come in,” I pause, my voice catching. When she enters, I continue softly, “...Mother.”

Her eyes crinkle with joy, welling with unshed tears, as she walks up to me and cups my cheeks. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed hearing you call me that,” she whispers, pulling me into a warm embrace and kissing my hair.

I melt into her hold, savoring the warmth and familiarity. If only she knew how much I’ve yearned for moments like this.

She pulls back to study me. “The dress fits perfectly,” she says, her gaze traveling from my gown to hers, and then back to my face. “You always loved us wearing matching dresses.”

I search for any shred of memory, but there’s nothing. Just another glimpse of who I was before I was taken from my family. “I’m glad you made it,” I reply, watching the beautiful smile light up her face.

My mother is stunning—one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. Her smooth skin frames captivating strong green eyes, and her perfect brows add an air of elegance. There’s a toughness beneath her gentle appearance, a strength I wish I possessed.

As if reading my thoughts, she giggles softly. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up, you and I. Your father and brother are waiting for us. We’re going to have our first family dinner together.”

I nod. “Okay, Mother.”

She smiles again, her eyes bright with disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re really back.”

I take her hands in mine, squeezing gently. “I can’t believe this is happening either. I’ve always wanted to meet my real family.”

“And now you have,” she says, her voice fierce with determination. “We will never let anything happen to you again.”

She pulls me into another hug, and then, with a soft laugh, tugs me toward the door. “Now, let’s go before your father comes looking for us.”

We step into the corridor, where a line of stern-looking warriors bows deeply, murmuring, “Luna, Princess.”

I glance at her, puzzled.

“Yes, you’re a princess,” she explains with a sweet smile. “Your father is the werewolf King. The princess of the Silvercrest Kingdom has come home.”

I try to process her words, my eyes widening, but I stay silent as she leads me down the grand staircase. It’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen—a long golden rug glows beneath the lights of countless chandeliers. The walls are adorned with images of werewolves in various poses, but one in particular catches my eye.

A male and female, both looking down at an empty cradle, their faces twisted in pain. A single tear slips down the female’s face.

A pang of sorrow hits me, as if the image is tied to something deep within me.

At the base of the stairs, more wolves greet us with the same reverence. We walk down a long corridor, ending at a room guarded by two warriors. They nod respectfully before opening the door.

“Finally!” my brother’s voice exclaims as we step inside. He rushes toward me and sweeps me up into a hug before I can even take in the room. “Sister!”

I laugh as he spins me around, his joy infectious. “I can’t wait for you to start bothering me again.”

“And I can’t wait to hug her,” my father’s deep voice rumbles as he approaches.

He tilts his head, giving me a soft smile—one I never imagined someone with his strong features could make. His sharp blue eyes, just like mine and Midriel’s, are filled with a blend of strength and warmth.

As Midriel sets me down, I rush into my father’s arms, craving the feel of his protective embrace. His scent—earthy, with a hint of sage—grounds me.

“Father,” I whisper, my heart swelling with emotion as he gently strokes my hair.

“I never thought I’d hear you call me that again,” he says, his voice thick with unspoken pain, loss, and relief.

“Me too,” I murmur, glancing around at the three people I now know as my family.

Tears glisten in my mother’s eyes as she joins us, standing beside her mate and gently rubbing my hair. “We’re so grateful to the goddess for bringing you back to us.”

“Let’s eat before we discuss everything that’s happened,” my father says, guiding us to a small table laden with an array of mouthwatering dishes.

“Still have your appetite?” Midriel teases, noticing my wide-eyed stare.

I shake my head, feeling the weight of old memories pressing down. “No.”

My mother looks at me with concern as she plates my food. “No?”

Flashes of my past surface, bringing a familiar ache. “I was starved for most of my time at the Montana Pack.”

The plate slips from her hands, clattering loudly on the table. Silence falls over the room as three pairs of eyes turn to me, shocked.

“Did you say the Montana Pack?” Midriel asks, his expression darkening.

“Yes,” I reply, the memory tightening my chest. “I was there until...”

“You were in Kizziah’s Pack?” my father’s voice is tight, his aura shifting to something colder, more dangerous.

I nod, noticing the tension in the room rise. My mother’s fingers twitch as she and my father exchange a look. Midriel’s eyes soften, and he mutters a curse as he rises from his seat.

“Amerie?” my mother’s voice is gentle, yet firm. “I know we planned to wait until after dinner to talk, but will you be okay to tell us now?”

I meet her gaze, her soft blue eyes now hard with anger. I notice her complexion changing slightly, her strength showing.

“Are you okay?” I ask, alarmed by the transformation.

She cups my face in her hands, her touch grounding me. “I’m fine, baby. I change when I’m angry, and right now I’m furious. Do you want to know why? Because i have powers.”

Fascinated and a little scared. “I have powers too.”

Her smile is filled with pride. “I know. We all felt it the first time you used them.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Pumpkin, can you tell us how you ended up in Kizziah’s pack?” my father asks, leaning forward. “Everything, up until how you came here.”

I look at each of them, their faces filled with a mixture of pain and determination. My mother caresses my cheek before pulling me into another hug, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

The gesture reminds me of the person who helped me escape, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in my heart. I sigh, knowing I can’t leave anything out.

“Don’t hold back, Amy,” Midriel says gently, as if sensing my hesitation. “We need to know everything.”

I take a deep breath, gathering the strength to relive the memories. “I don’t know how I got there, and I don’t remember anything about you or this place,” I begin, my voice trembling slightly. “I just woke up one day and was part of the family. They made me a maid as soon as I was old enough to work.”

“They made you a maid?” Midriel growls, his anger barely contained.

“Let her speak,” my father warns him gently. “Go on, Amerie.”

“I wasn’t allowed to interact with anyone in the pack. No friends, no one,” I continue, the pain of those lonely years resurfacing. “But everything changed a few months ago when Kizziah and his mate told me I was to be their son’s mate. He somehow knew I had powers.”

My mother stands abruptly, a low growl escaping her as she begins to pace. “I’m going to rip his head off,” she mutters furiously. “Him and his son.”

Her eyes suddenly narrow, and she pauses. “I’ve already ordered his arrest.”

My father steps up beside her, pulling her into his arms. The sight of their closeness brings back memories of Nathan, and my heart aches.

“I’ve already taken care of it. He’s in the dungeon,” my father says, his voice soothing as he holds her.

“Dungeon?” I ask, looking at each of them in turn.

Midriel leans forward, taking my hand in his. “That piece of s**t and his son are in our custody. They’ll pay for everything they did to you.”