When we are one

Chapter 20 Anika and Corbin

Anika

“Should we tell the Luna?” I ask, my voice quiet but uncertain. “You know… about how she’s going to be a grandma.”

Corbin smirks—smirks—and it’s downright toxic how that damn look makes me smile back at him, despite everything. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

But just as quickly as the moment lightens, it turns heavy again.

My smile fades. The dream—the nightmare—rushes back like a storm surge I didn’t brace for. My parents. Their voices. Their deaths. The way my younger self screamed as my mother’s body hit the ground. The way I screamed.

They won’t get to know their grandbabies. They won’t see them grow, won’t hold them. They died trying to protect me, and here I am… alive. Broken. Pregnant.

Corbin’s gaze shifts the moment my mood does. He sees it. He always sees it.

Without hesitation, he reaches for me, lacing our fingers together like it’s second nature, grounding me in a way nothing else can. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, his warmth anchoring me even as I threaten to spiral again.

“What’s wrong, little rogue?” he asks, his voice low, soft, and full of concern. No mockery, no teasing. Just him. Just Corbin.

Silvara

“Trust him.”

The words are quiet, a whisper curling around my heart like smoke. I feel Silvara’s strength behind them, steady and unwavering. She’s not just telling me. She’s showing me—flashes of Corbin’s protective gaze, the way Ezra snarled at even the thought of us running.

“He is not them. And you are not alone anymore.”

Anika

I take a shaky breath. And then another.

And I let go.

The words pour out of me, not smooth or clean, but jagged and real. I tell Corbin everything—the dream, the memory, the eerie way it felt more like reliving than just seeing. The voices of my parents, their fear, their love. The pain of losing them. The robed man. The way he murdered them in front of me, like I was nothing.

And then the part that shatters me most.

“My first kill,” I whisper. “It wasn’t in battle. It wasn’t out of choice. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I just… touched him. And he died.”

Tears burn down my cheeks as Corbin listens, silent but unwavering.

“I didn’t even understand back then. I thought he was saving me. But he was just the first of many to hurt me. I thought I was cursed. Maybe I still am.”

Corbin doesn’t speak right away. He doesn’t offer false reassurances or dismiss my pain.

He simply holds me tighter.

Corbin

“We’re not leaving her,” Ezra growls quietly inside me, his presence calm but firm. “She’s ours. Ours to protect. Ours to lift when she can’t stand. Ours to love—even through the dark.”

Her words hit me harder than any rogue ever has.

She looks so damn fragile when she says it. Like the girl in the dream is still trapped inside her—the one who watched her whole world fall apart and blamed herself for surviving it.

I’ve seen warriors lose battles and walk away unscathed. But Anika? She’s carried her war inside her. Quiet. Alone. For years.

And now she’s looking up at me like she’s waiting for me to run too.

But I don’t. I won’t.

I reach for her face, gently brushing the tear tracks away with my thumb. She flinches—barely—but I feel it. My heart aches.

“You are not a curse, Anika,” I say, voice rough and low. “You were a child. What happened wasn’t your fault. Your power… it’s not a weapon unless you’re using it to protect the ones you love.”

Her lip trembles. She tries to look away.

I don’t let her.

“You hear me?” I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers. “You’re not some broken thing the world forgot. You’re a miracle. You are the moon goddess’s gift—whether you believe it or not.”

Ezra

“She thinks she’s death,” I growl quietly. “But she’s our life.”

Silvara brushes against my soul like silk and wildfire, her sorrow heavy but steadying me.

“She’s been surviving. Now she must learn to live.”

And gods help the bastard who tries to stop her.

Corbin

“Those pups?” I whisper against her skin. “They’re not a consequence. They’re a blessing. You said it yourself—you thought of me holding them, and you smiled.”

Her breath hitches.

“I felt that, Anika. I felt your joy. Just like I feel your fear right now.”

I wrap my arms around her again, tighter this time. Protective. Possessive.

“You don’t have to be strong every second. Let me be strong for you when you can’t. Let me carry the weight too. You’re not in this alone anymore.”

She doesn’t say anything at first. But I feel it—her exhale, shaky and long. Her fingers curl into my shirt, and I feel the moment she lets herself lean in. Trust. Not all of it. But enough.

Silvara

“He’s worthy.”

I echo her thought, wrapping around her soul in solidarity. She’s still afraid, but less alone now.

And I feel Ezra—steady, loyal, wild with love.

“He’ll protect us,” I whisper to her. “Even from ourselves.”

Anika

Something cracks open in me when Corbin says “Let me carry the weight too.”

No one's ever said that before. And meant it.

All my life it’s been me against the world. Even when I had a pack, even when I had hope, I always knew the knife could turn. The people I trusted could vanish. Love could die. And now… he’s here. Still here.

Still choosing me.

“I’m scared,” I whisper against his chest. “I’ve lost everything before, Corbin. Everyone. If I lose you… I don’t come back from that.”

“You won’t lose me,” he murmurs, voice steady, full of a kind of certainty that silences the voice in my head telling me to run. “Even if you try to leave me again, I’ll follow. I’ll drag you home kicking and screaming.”

The laugh that escapes my throat is broken, but real.

Corbin

She’s trembling, but she’s here. And she’s letting me see her—all of her.

Ezra howls inside, a sound of absolute reverence. He feels her surrender. Not weakness—trust.

“She’s ours,” he murmurs. “Ours to protect. Ours to love. Ours to claim over and over again.”

I tilt her chin up, brushing a kiss to her lips—not urgent, not demanding, but grounding. A vow. She leans into it, lips soft and trembling, but hungry for the comfort I offer.

The kiss deepens slowly, turning from tentative to desperate in the space of a breath. She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing herself to me like she needs to feel every inch of skin, every line of me, to believe I’m real.

“Corbin…” she breathes. I can feel the longing pouring from her, the ache of needing to be held—not just physically but wholly.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper against her throat. “You’re safe. With me, you’re always safe.”

I carry her back toward the bed, laying her down with the kind of care that makes my chest ache. Her fingers fist my shirt, tugging me down with her. And this time, there’s no rush.

It’s not about claiming. It’s not about dominance or heat.

It’s about love.

About rebuilding trust where the world shattered her.

Every touch is slow and reverent—my hands memorizing the lines of her body like prayer, her mouth mapping my soul with every kiss. Her legs wrap around me, her body arching into mine like we’re made for each other.

And maybe we are.

Silvara

“He’s not just your mate,” I whisper, weaving around her spirit. “He’s your anchor.”

Ezra growls in return—not feral, but worshipful.

“She’s everything. She’s home.”

Anika

When our bodies meet, there’s no pain. Only release. Peace. Like everything inside me finally exhales.

I cry—not from sadness, but from the sheer rightness of it all.

And Corbin kisses every tear that falls.

“Mine,” he whispers again and again like a mantra. “Mine, mine, mine.”

And for the first time in a long time, I believe it.

I’m not alone anymore.