When we are one

Chapter 16 Corbin

She’s sleeping again, tucked against my chest like she belongs there.

And maybe she does.

The mark on her neck glows faintly beneath the morning light, a soft silver shimmer where my teeth claimed her. It calls to me like a beacon—an echo of the night I made her mine in truth.

Ezra hums low in satisfaction, a predator finally at rest.

“She is bonded. Ours. The pack will know it. The world will know it.”

I run a hand through her hair, careful not to wake her, and let my thoughts drift.

The bond has changed everything. I can feel her emotions beneath my skin—faint, flickering like candlelight. Her fear. Her hesitation. But also… her trust. Slowly building. Carefully offered.

It humbles me.

She still hasn’t told me everything about her past. About what she is, what she’s running from. But I feel the weight she carries. And I’d carry it for her if she let me.

Ezra stirs.

“She will tell us when she’s ready. We don’t need words. We already know her soul.”

He’s right. The bond doesn’t lie. Whatever she’s hiding, it doesn’t change how I feel. If anything, it makes me want to protect her more.

I brush a kiss against her shoulder. She murmurs something in her sleep and curls in closer.

I close my eyes, letting the warmth of her soothe the storm that never fully leaves me.

For the first time in years, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

As always, these moments are stolen—gone as quickly as they’re given.

Lying beside her, I felt something close to peace. But peace isn’t something I’m allowed to keep. Not for long.

It’s times like this I wish being Alpha was a choice... not a duty.

I carefully untangle myself from Anika’s warmth, every part of me screaming to stay. Ezra growls low in protest, his possessiveness flaring the moment I move away from Silvara. He never hides his frustration when we’re pulled from her.

Neither do I.

The knock comes again—sharp and urgent.

I open the door, my tone matching Ezra’s growl. “What is it?”

My father stands there, jaw tight, eyes grim. Alpha Samual doesn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“We have a problem,” he says flatly.

I exhale hard, rubbing my temples, the weight of leadership already creeping back in. “Don’t we always?”

“This one’s different,” he replies, stepping inside.

I stiffen, already sensing where this is going.

He glances toward the bed, where Anika lies still half-asleep, the bond pulsing gently between us. “It’s about her.”

Ezra’s ears perk up, his attention razor sharp.

“Touch her and bleed,” he warns instinctively.

I hold back the snarl rising in my throat and nod for my father to continue.

“She’s been seen,” he says. “By a prophet.”

That gets my full attention.

“Seen?” I repeat, voice low. “What kind of vision?”

Samual meets my eyes, his voice heavy with something close to awe. “We believe she may be the Moon Goddess’s child—reincarnated.”

Silence crashes between us.

Ezra goes still, then lets out a slow, rumbling growl that echoes through my chest.

“Ours,” he says. “Chosen. Sacred.”

And suddenly, everything begins to fall into place—the power in her blood, the pull between us, the way the bond feels bigger than anything I’ve ever known.

I look back at her, sleeping softly, unaware of the storm about to break around her.

What the hell does this mean for her? For us?