Chapter 12 Anika
982 Words
I stare into the abyss of my thoughts, but for once, the darkness doesn’t scare me.
I can astral project.
Me. The girl who’s been leashed her entire life. The girl whose touch can kill. The girl who was supposed to be a weapon, not something divine.
Now, I’m something else entirely.
“I can feel it,” I whisper, fingers flexing inside my gloves. “It’s like lightning under my skin.”
“It’s your truth unraveling,” Silvara murmurs in my mind, her voice laced with concern. “But uncontrolled power can be as dangerous as a lie.”
“I should talk to Luna Olivia, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes. She was sent here for you. I can feel that deep in my bones. She might not have all the answers, but she can help you find them.”
“But what if she looks at me like Banks did? Like I’m some cursed freak.”
“You’re not cursed. You’re chosen.”
Chosen. The word curls inside me like a flame, hungry and devouring.
I need to know what I am. Who I am. Why I’ve come back from the underworld with powers that make even seasoned warriors flinch.
I head for the lounge to find Beta Briar—someone, anyone who might help me sort through the storm I’ve become. But the room is empty.
Silvara’s hackles rise.
“Corbin,” she growls.
A pulse of anger hits us like a shockwave. Not mine. Not Silvara’s.
His.
Without another thought, I bolt downstairs, the scent of fury thick in the air. And when I reach the basement, I find him—Corbin—his hand around Alpha Samuel’s throat.
“I will not be with Grace,” he snarls, a voice more wolf than man.
“Corbin,” I growl, sharp and commanding. “Put the Alpha down. Now.”
The room stills.
Silence crashes down like thunder. Every wolf freezes at my tone. Even Corbin.
His body stiffens, but slowly, like melting ice, he lowers his father. His head turns, eyes locking onto mine. And then he pulls me to him, like I’m the only anchor in his storm.
And maybe I am.
I spot the man on the wall.
A caged animal. Filthy. Smirking.
Remus.
I go cold. My whole body stills.
His grin widens. “Well, if it isn’t the little slave killer in the flesh.”
“You’re scum,” I hiss, stepping forward before I even realize I’ve moved.
“He reeks of blood and rot,” Silvara snarls. “He’s the past. And you—we—are something he could never touch.”
But he still tries.
“You really are the silver wolf, aren’t you?” His eyes gleam. “She-devil.”
Something inside me breaks.
Corbin reaches for my hand, but the glove slips off.
Too late.
My bare palm connects with Remus’s throat, and everything stills.
Power roars through me.
The life drains from his body. His eyes roll back. His limbs drop like lead.
He’s dead before his knees hit the ground.
And I fall with him.
Anika
A hand lands gently on my shoulder—Alpha Samuel.
But I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
I just ended a life with a touch.
Again.
Corbin kneels beside me, eyes wide with something between awe and fear. He hands me my glove wordlessly.
“It’s a little late for that,” I murmur, taking it.
He smirks—and then lifts me into his arms.
He doesn’t stop until we’re in the kitchen. He sets me on the bench, opens a cabinet, and pours something into two glasses. His movements are quiet. Careful.
“This’ll help,” he says. “Drink it.”
I tilt my head. “What is it?”
“Alcohol. It’ll take the edge off.”
I down it without hesitation—and nearly choke. The burn scorches down my throat like fire. Corbin laughs, his shoulder bumping against mine.
But I don’t laugh.
I’m watching him.
The way his jaw tightens. The way his eyes won’t leave mine.
He’s trying to be strong. But I see the tremble in his fingers. The hesitation in his breath.
And when he speaks again, it’s soft. Barely a whisper.
“Anika.”
I turn to him, heart in my throat.
“Mark me,” he says.
Silvara
He’s asking for forever, I whisper.
I feel it hum through our bond. His need. His ache. His devotion. It’s all tangled with mine.
“This is it,” I tell Anika. “This is the moment everything changes.”
Anika
My gloved hand slides to his face. I remove the glove, baring my skin to his, no longer afraid of what I’ll do.
“I want to,” I breathe. “Moon goddess help me, I want to.”
Our lips meet like a collision—wild and hungry and molten. His hands grip my thighs as I wrap them around his waist, desperate to close the space between us.
He growls into my mouth, low and primal. Every kiss leaves fire in its wake. His hands roam, slow and reverent, until I’m trembling beneath his touch.
Clothes fall away like whispers. We stumble, heated and breathless, from the bench to his room, a trail of fabric marking our path.
When he lays me on the bed, it’s not rough.
It’s worship.
His lips trace a path down my neck, stopping just above my collarbone—right where a mate mark would go.
His eyes lift to mine.
“Yes,” I whisper, chest heaving. “Now.”
Silvara
“He’s ours,” I purr as his teeth sink into our skin.
And the bond snaps into place like a wildfire—unstoppable, consuming, eternal.
We are no longer a secret.
We are claimed.
We are Luna.
- Writer
