Graves and Ghosts
1784 Words
Lizzy's POV
We were minutes from departure.
Holly paced near the SUV, chewing her lip as she tried to triple-check supplies. Thalia arranged vials with efficient precision. Kai leaned against the hood like he was posing for a painting he didn’t care about. Lizzy stood off to the side, hood up, shoulders tight, the bond between us buzzing with questions she hadn’t asked.
My wolf kept straining toward her.
My control kept pulling back.
That was when my father’s voice slammed into my mind.
Varek. To my office. Immediately.
The force behind it left no room for delay.
Lizzy’s eyes flicked up at the change in my expression. “What is it?”
“An Alpha matter,” I said. “I’ll return in minutes.”
She gave a small nod, trying not to look worried.
I turned away before I could make it worse.
The walk to my father’s office was a march into colder air.
Alaric’s moods seeped into the keep like smoke, and today the stone felt heavier, charged with something that gnawed against the wards.
The office doors opened on their own.
Alaric stood at the window, hands behind his back, gaze distant, posture carved from command and regret.
“You called,” I said.
“Close the door.”
I did.
He didn’t turn when he spoke.
“I received a lead from Bjorn.”
My jaw tensed. “About what.”
“Not what. About who.”
He faced me fully then.
“It concerns Christine.”
Everything inside me stilled.
“And Elizabeth’s former pack.”
Heat pulsed under my skin. “Be specific.”
“I do not have specifics,” he said sharply. “Not yet. Bjorn intercepted something… old. A message. A record. A whisper. Nothing confirmed.”
“What does it say?”
“That Christine’s disappearance was not accidental. That her presumed death may have been staged. That someone took her.”
My wolf slammed against my ribs.
“And you think Crescent Ridge had something to do with it,” I said.
“It is a possibility.”
“And Lizzy—?”
“I do not know,” Alaric admitted. “I did not know Christine bore a child at all. No one did. If I had—”
He cut himself off, lips tightening.
I took a step forward. “What else was in the lead?”
“I said enough.” His gaze sharpened. “If Elizabeth learns her mother may still live, she will break focus. You know she will. She is already carrying the weight of three worlds. She cannot bear another ghost right now.”
“I will decide what she can bear,” I growled.
“You will not,” Alaric snapped. “You will lead her to the training grounds. You will prepare her. You will tell her nothing.”
My wolf snarled.
“And you?” I asked coldly. “You’re abandoning the group?”
“This lead may never surface again,” he said. “I must follow it. Alone.”
I breathed hard through my nose. “If you find something, you tell me.”
“I will tell you what you need,” Alaric said. “Not what you want.”
He walked closer, the weight of his presence turning the air into stone.
“You do not understand the full shape of what you are walking into,” he said. “So listen closely.”
I didn’t respond.
So he continued.
“When I was young,” Alaric said quietly, “the Moon Goddess blessed me with a mate.”
My heartbeat stuttered.
“Christine,” he said. “She was fated to me first.”
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
“You never said—”
“I rejected her.”
His tone was flat. Dead. Brutal.
“She was gentle. Too gentle. Her instincts were mercy, not dominance. She believed strength was service. She believed the Rites could be faced with heart rather than blood.” His mouth tightened. “I thought she would fail. I thought she would die.”
He exhaled. The sound was almost a crack.
“So I severed the bond. I cast her out of my line.”
The room felt colder.
I forced out, “And then?”
“The Goddess was displeased,” Alaric said. “But she never punishes directly. She simply... balances.” He looked out the window for a long moment. “Days later, Christine was fated again. To my Beta at the time.”
My breath froze.
“Your first Beta,” I said.
“The one before Bjorn,” he confirmed. “He was a good man. A better man than I was then. He adored her. Worshiped her. I watched them from afar and told myself it was right. That she was safe. That she was…” he swallowed, the only sign of emotion he allowed, “better off.”
“Then she disappeared,” I said.
“And he presumably died searching for her,” Alaric said softly. “Or protecting her. Or both.”
He turned back to me.
“I never knew she bore a child. Never suspected it. Had I known, I would have torn realms apart to find her.”
“You didn’t,” I said.
“I didn’t know,” he repeated, voice colder.
“You assumed,” I said slowly, “that the Beta was Lizzy’s father.”
“It is logical,” Alaric said. “They were mated. Fated. Their bond would have been strong. If she conceived, it would have been his.”
“And if it wasn’t?”
He stiffened. “Do not chase shadows.”
“You’re the one sending Bjorn after ghosts,” I snapped.
He stepped closer.
“You are missing the point,” he said. “Christine was fated to me. I rejected her. She found a second fated bond—unheard of but not impossible. And then she vanished, leaving a daughter that now stands at your side.”
His eyes darkened.
“The Moon Goddess does not play loosely with fate, Varek. She circled back. She placed Christine’s bloodline in your hands.”
Wind howled against the windows.
“You think this is destiny,” I said.
“I know it,” he answered. “Your mother had already birthed you. Christine bore another line. Two bloodlines that should have stood beside one another decades ago have finally crossed again. Through Elizabeth.”
I stared at him.
“And your goal,” I said, “is that we produce a powerful heir.”
“My goal,” Alaric corrected, “is that you succeed where I failed.”
His voice dropped.
“If she survives the Rites, I will right my wrongs. I will dissolve the chosen bond with your mother and free her to whatever life remains. I owe her that much. And you.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“And if Lizzy dies?” I asked.
“You lose your mate,” he said. “Your claim. Your chance to free your mother. Your future. Everything.”
His gaze cut through me.
“Do not fail her.”
He left the office without waiting for a reply.
I stood in the silence he left behind, every word clawing at me.
Lizzy’s mother.
Lizzy’s past.
Lizzy’s fate.
The bloodline I now carried in my hands.
The weight nearly broke me.
I forced myself out of the room and headed back to the courtyard.
Lizzy adjusted her pack again when she saw me, tension tight in her shoulders. Kai watched from the hood, eyes flicking between us.
“We leave,” I said.
Lizzy’s voice was soft. “Everything okay?”
No.
“Yes,” I lied.
She didn’t believe me.
We loaded into the SUV.
The road to the old graveyard wound through fog and silent forest. Lizzy stared out the window. Kai dozed. Holly whispered prayers under her breath. Thalia hummed an old song about warriors and storms.
My wolf wouldn’t stop pacing.
When we arrived, the graveyard rose like a collection of ancient scars. A modern training cabin sat beyond it, cold and fortified.
Lizzy stepped out and shivered at the strange energy in the air.
Kai made some careless joke about dead neighbors.
She almost smiled.
Almost.
“Holly, Thalia,” I said. “Set up your stations. Kai, walk with me.”
His expression shifted the moment he heard my tone.
We stepped away from the others, stopping among leaning tombstones.
I spoke first.
“I smelt you on her.”
Kai froze, color draining from his face.
“It wasn’t—”
“Do not lie.”
He swallowed. “She was upset. I tried to help.”
“You will keep your distance,” I said. “Training only. Nothing more.”
His jaw clenched. “She needed support.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Then act like it,” Kai snapped.
My aura flared, but he stepped closer instead of backing down.
“You want her to survive?” he demanded. “You want her to unlock the power you keep insisting she has? Then stop treating her like a risk to be managed.”
I stared at him.
Kai pressed on.
“She needs her mate. Not her commander. Not her judge. Not the ghost of your father breathing down your spine. You.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched.
“And if you want her full strength,” he said, “you have to give her yours. She can’t rise if you hold back everything she’s supposed to bond with.”
Silence crackled between us.
“If you keep pushing her away,” Kai finished quietly, “you’ll break her long before the Rites do.”
My heart throbbed painfully.
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
He wasn’t entirely right, either.
But the truth lived somewhere in the space between.
“You will keep your distance,” I repeated. “But your warning is heard.”
Kai’s shoulders lowered a fraction. “Good.”
We stood in the stillness of the graves, two wolves circling truths too heavy to carry alone.
I turned toward the cabin.
Lizzy stood on the steps, watching me like she was trying to decode a language she’d never learned.
The bond pulled taut between us — stretched thin, aching, waiting.
My father’s words echoed in my mind.
Kai’s echoed louder.
And for the first time, I realized surviving the Rites wasn’t the hardest part ahead of us.
The hardest part was walking toward her instead of away.
- Writer
