Tamed by Desire

Chapter Three - Secret

Charlotte POV

The nerve of that woman, I had no energy to fight back at her remarks and just left it.

Once she was gone, I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. The weight of everything was settling on me. Then I walked back into the room where Richard, William, and Penelope were waiting, their faces expectant and wary.

I sat by the fire William had just lit, watching the flames flicker.

“First of all, I want to say I’m truly and deeply sorry you had to find out this way,” my voice was low, heavy with regret.

I didn’t have a good upbringing. Being the daughter of one of the strongest Packs in the Northern Hemisphere comes with many duties... and sacrifices.

“Wait, what did you just say?” Penelope’s voice cracked, disbelief making her lean forward. I could tell she thought I had misspoken.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at the family picture sitting on the mantelpiece—Adam was there with me, frozen in time. What I was about to say would change everything for us again.

“I am the next heir to the Shadowmoon Pack,” I said quietly, “but I didn’t want that life". I didn’t want the arranged marriage my parents had forged to make alliances.

My eyes dropped to my wedding ring, fingers absently tracing the band as I decided to share every detail.

I married your father instead. I married for love. Your grandparents did everything they could to separate us... that’s why we ran away together. I even changed my last name.

Penelope whispered a name I hadn’t heard in many moons: “De La Salle.”

“Yes. My, I mean our family bloodline is De La Salle.

Your grandparents made it clear: if I didn’t marry the person they chose for me, they would hurt your father. So we did the next best thing—we ran, and we never looked back.

Richard’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and realization dawning. “So Dad knew about this?”

He finished off his drink, and Penelope began to put two and two together.

“Yes. We both came back here—to his pack. Your grandparents didn’t care to learn your father's name or his pack. So it was a no-brainer. We came here to live out the rest of our days quietly.

I swallowed hard. “No one knew who I really was.” It made it easy to hide away from your grandparents... until now.”

My heart sank knowing the boys were going to have a hard time knowing I’d been keeping their grandparents a secret. Especially Richard — he wouldn’t even let me give him a hug to say goodbye. But even worse, they wouldn’t meet them until after the funeral.

Penelope was talking, but my brain wasn’t catching up. It was like the wheel was spinning, but the hamster was dead.

I had to get out. The kids were safe upstairs, sound asleep, while Claire worked her magic in front of the screen, fingers flying as she cracked into the FBI system to find any report on the plane crash. William and Richard had gone to the academy to blow off steam after I’d dropped the bomb on them. I slipped toward the door.

Now was the time. The night air pressed cool against my skin as I stepped outside under the deep navy sky. I searched for the star that shone bright like my Adam — the one that always seemed to find me when I needed him most.

Closing the back door with a soft click, I crossed the damp grass toward the dark mouth of the woods. My pace quickened. Heart pounding. Breath misting in the cool air. In three long leaps, I ripped the black dress from my body, the fabric tearing like paper, and let the change take me.

Bones stretched and reshaped with a familiar ache. Muscles rippled. Fur burst across my skin like fire racing through dry grass. My senses sharpened all at once — the tang of pine sap in the air, the heartbeat of a rabbit deep in the brush, the whisper of wind through the trees.

Lira howled, “Finally,” her voice echoing through my skull as she pumped all four paws, taking full control. We flew through the forest, earth and leaves blurring beneath us. Every stride was a release, every breath a taste of freedom.

Halfway up the mountain, a memory hit me — Adam’s laugh, breathless and wild, as Valcrow’s paws thundered beside mine. The scent of his fur mingled with the wind, his voice teasing, “You’ll never beat me, Charlotte.” But I had. Twice. I could still see the way his eyes gleamed — bright, untamed, alive — glancing back at me before surging ahead.

Ten kilometers melted away as we crossed the mountain’s far side, the scent of stone and rain-soaked moss guiding us upward.

We reached our spot — where we used to race Adam and Valcrow. The cliff’s edge dropped into shadow, the world spread wide below us. Above, only stars — no mist, no clouds — just the silver curve of a waxing crescent moon watching over us.

Lira paced the edge, tail low, ears flicking back as if listening for footsteps that would never come. A whine built in my throat before I could stop it. The night air carried nothing of him — no familiar musk, no steady heartbeat — just the hollow echo of absence.

The ache swelled, too big to swallow, and I threw my head back, letting a howl rip free. It climbed the air in a ragged cry that shook the trees and split the silence, carrying Adam’s name to the stars.

For a heartbeat, the forest stilled. The wind quieted. The crescent moon glimmered brighter, and the star I’d been searching for seemed to flare — as if the night itself was answering. As if somewhere, somehow… Adam had heard me.

That night, exhaustion pressed into my bones like cold stone. My eyelids grew heavy — too heavy, as if a weight settled deep inside my chest, sinking me down.

Lira’s earlier warning scraped at the back of my mind like a thorn. Don’t let it feel heavy.

I fought the pull with everything I had — clenched fists, shallow breaths — but the weight only grew, dragging me lower, deeper…

The air thickened. Forest sounds dimmed. A chill crept up my spine.

And then the shadowbind took me.

I stood in the forest, dressed in what looked like a wedding gown — heavy, strange against my skin. Beside me, the ancient Rimu tree swayed in silence.

Five meters away, another man stepped forward, Lira prowling at her side, eyes sharp.

Ahead of them stood a man — too tall to be Adam, at least six-ten, broad-shouldered, dressed in a grey wedding suit that looked centuries out of place.

A knot twisted in my stomach. I wanted to shout at the other me to stop, to turn away, but before I could move, a warm hand closed over my shoulder.

I turned.

Adam.

My whole body ached to hold him, but something unseen kept me rooted.

The tall man radiated danger and a strange sweetness — honey-slow, pulling at me. But Adam was here, and I wanted only him.

When I looked back, Adam was suddenly twenty-five meters away, drifting farther with each breath.

“Adam, please come back!” I called, running after him, but my voice didn’t carry.

He raised a hand — a silent stop.

The forest blinked out.

The other me, Lira, the tall man — gone.

Only darkness remained.

Adam stood ahead, face streaked with blood. His lips moved soundlessly.

I tried to run, but my legs wouldn’t move.

Then, in a heartbeat, he was on me, his hand gripping the back of my neck.

I closed my eyes, ready for his touch.

When I opened them —

It wasn’t Adam.

A towering shadow loomed inches from my face, its features lost in black.

I wasn’t afraid.

Something about it was familiar — the same cold unease I’d felt at the wake that morning.

It leaned closer, breath warm on my lips.

“You’re mine.”

I jolted back to reality, still in my wolf form.

My pulse thundered in my veins, sweat dampening my fur.

Lira shook herself, breaking the heavy silence.

“What the f**k was that?” she purred.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know… but it wasn't Adam.”

For the first time since the news, tears spilled down my human face.

Lira lifted her muzzle to the moon and howled — a sound that bled with pain, with loss, with something I couldn’t yet name.

I let her be, standing still beneath the silver light, waiting until she was ready to head home.

Then the wind shifted.

It carried a scent we both knew — a cold, sharp breeze that sent shivers racing up my spine.

“Lira… Holt…” I muttered, but Lira whined, eager to follow the smell.

“Don’t. Lira, take us home. Now.”

We tore through the forest, branches whipping past. Lira’s ears flicked upward, catching the direction of the aura without so much as turning her head. I could feel it too, threading through the air like a warning.

“Keep going, Lira, and don’t stop.”

We crossed the border of our home, and just like that, we shifted.

In my human form, I felt no fear — I had been trained to kill by the age of ten, the privilege and curse of being born to parents who ruled the strongest pack.

Even in the dark, my hands found the stash of clothing I kept hidden in spots throughout the woods for nights like this. I wasn’t certain we were in the clear, but I could feel eyes on me — unseen, unblinking.

I stood slowly, pulling my top over my head. No bra — but in the soft light of the moon, only my face was visible. One last look around, then I ran barefoot towards home.