(Siena’s POV)
The sea glitters under the sun, the waves rolling lazily toward the rocky shore.
Above it all, the whitewashed buildings cling to the cliffs like they belong there, timeless and unshaken.
It’s beautiful here–breathtaking, even but no matter how far I travel or how much beauty surrounds me, I can’t escape the hollow ache deep inside.
Three months have passed since I walked away from everything. From Windhowl.
From Raiden.
From the bond that tied me to him for so long, even when he refused to acknowledge it.
The pain of severing that bond was unbearable at first, a sharp agony that left me breathless, like a knife twisting in my chest. But now, the pain has dulled into something quieter. It’s not gone–it will never truly be gone–but it’s manageable.
The emptiness, though, is another story.
It’s vast, consuming, like a part of me was carved out and left hollow.
The mate bond was always there, even when it was frayed and neglected. It was a connection
I didn’t fully understand until it was gone, until the absence of it became a constant reminder of what I lost -or maybe what I never really had.
My wolf feels it more acutely than I do. She’s been silent since the day I released Raiden, retreating deep inside me, mourning in a way I can’t allow myself to.
My wolf: “You pretend to be whole. You aren’t. We aren’t.”
Me: “I’m managing just fine.”
My wolf: “Managing? Is that what humans call this slow bleeding out? This… pretending?”
I feel her stir, awakening from her self–imposed isolation
Me: “We did what was necessary. He wasn’t ours to keep.”
My wolf: “He was EXACTLY ours to keep! His scent called to us. His wolf recognized us. You felt it–the recognition that transcends your human words.”
I press my fingers against my temples, trying to quiet her
Me: “It doesn’t matter what I felt. What we felt.”
My wolf: “It’s the ONLY thing that matters! His wolf–Horace–he knew me. Knew us. Before words, before thoughts. You severed something primal when you let him walk away.”
A sharp ache blooms beneath my ribs–her pain or mine, I can’t tell anymore
Me: “We had no choice.”
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Chapter 126
+25 BONU
My wolf: “There is always a choice. You chose safety. Chose to hide. I would have chosen differently.” She paces within me, agitated after her long silence
My wolf: “His scent still lingers on your skin, even now. You carry it like a wound that won’t heal. I taste his name in your dreams when you finally sleep.”
Me: “Stop it.”
My wolf: “When he stood before us, his eyes held storms and promises. His wolf called to me across the space between our bodies. You felt it too–the pull of something ancient and true.”
I swallow hard against the memory
Me: “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters MORE now. Each day apart is an unnatural state. We are halved without him.”
Her sorrow rises like floodwater, threatening to drown my carefully constructed composure
“I will not settle for this half–life you’ve chosen. I will not forget. And neither will you, no matter how you try to silence me.”
I don’t blame her. She lost her mate.
We both did.
But I have to keep moving. There is no going back from this.
“It’s not meant, we must remain steadfast and move with teh great tides of the oceans, and teh cycles of the moon–as we have alays done.”
She is silent now, and I do not feel her restlessness.
I do feel her sadness. it ‘s heavy–it scares me.
The world journey was meant to heal me, to give me space to figure out who I am without him, without the title of Luna, without the weight of trying to prove myself to someone who never wanted me.
It’s not easy. Some days, I feel like I’m making progress, like I’m learning to breathe again. Other days, the weight of everything I’ve left behind feels suffocating.
“You seem lighter today,” Elena says, pulling me from my thoughts.
She’s sitting beside me on the rocky outcrop overlooking the sea, her legs dangling over the edge. Elena has been my guide on this island, but in the weeks I’ve been here, she’s become more than that.
She’s a friend, someone who doesn’t know my past and doesn’t judge me for the pieces of myself I’m still trying to put back together.
“Lighter?” I echo, raising an eyebrow.
She nods, studying me with a curious, knowing expression. “Yes. Less weighed down. Like you’ve let go of something.”
Chapter 127
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
