CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The night stretched endlessly. Alpha Thorne stiffened at Luna Celeste’s unexpected question. He cleared his throat, stalling with a cough before replying, “No. That’s why I’ve always wondered what the bond truly feels like.”

The words slipped from him with surprising ease, as if rehearsed in secret. His relief was palpable—he hadn’t faltered or betrayed himself.

Celeste’s lips curved into a fragile, sorrow-tinged smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s the strongest bond our kind has. But for me? It’s also the most excruciating wound I’ve ever carried.”

Thorne’s chest tightened. His expression dimmed, guilt pressing like a vice, so he pressed forward along the trail, tugging her gently along, unwilling to let her notice the conflict brewing inside him.

Still, she continued, her voice calm but laced with quiet hurt. “Back then, I was too blind, too caught up in the excitement to notice the cracks forming around me. I gave everything—my heart, my loyalty—to my pack and my mate. I ignored the signs, the whispers, the truth that not everyone waits for the bond. Some wolves fall into love outside of it. Sometimes they choose it.”

Her honesty stung because Thorne understood exactly what she meant. He had witnessed countless wolves torn apart when their chosen love collided with the mate bond. No matter how strong the feelings, the outcome always ended in heartbreak, betrayal, or blood.

That was why he had vowed to wait for his mate, to never bind himself to anything lesser. Yet fate had been cruel. When Calla—fragile, human Calla—was slaughtered, his faith in the Moon Goddess fractured. She had been his mate, and he had been ready to defy the world for her. Her death had carved a scar into him that time could not erase. He would have given up everything for her… and still, he lost her.

That pain made his protectiveness over Celeste unbearable. He could not, would not, let history repeat itself.

“Alaric shattered me,” Celeste admitted, her tone steady, almost resigned. “But Brielle… gods, Brielle was my soul. She was the sister of my heart, and yet she cut me deeper than anyone.” Her eyes shimmered, though no tears fell—perhaps she had none left, or perhaps Thorne’s steady presence anchored her.

Thorne’s voice dropped, weighted with sincerity. “I’m… sorry.” The words felt insufficient, clumsy against the depth of her grief.

She exhaled slowly, almost with relief. “It’s fine. Saying it aloud makes it easier. I’ve carried the bitterness for too long, and it’s eaten away at me. Tonight… I feel lighter.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “So, you’ve forgiven them?”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted her answer to be yes. Forgiveness was not something he gave easily. To him, mercy and loyalty were the sharpest blades, and betrayal was never pardoned. Even Kaelin, despite her flaws, had earned a measure of grace because she had given everything to Shadowglen Pack. But Brielle and Alaric? Their treachery was a wound that could never be excused.

“For almost killing me?” Celeste arched a brow, her voice sharpening. “No. I’ll never forget that. But forgive?” Her lips curled faintly. “Yes. Forgive—but not absolve. They’ll still pay their due. They’re not star-crossed lovers. They’re just power-hungry wolves who lost themselves.”

Thorne tilted his head, studying her. “Or were they in love?” His question carried no malice, just curiosity. To him, their bond seemed too entangled to be mere ambition.

“What man in his right mind would reject a Luna chosen by the Moon Goddess?” he asked quietly.

Celeste gave a bitter laugh. “I never thought Brielle wanted power. She avoided most pack matters entirely. But Alaric? He was a warrior, not an Alpha. And yet, when the bond pulls you, nothing else matters. If he’d turned me away immediately, before the bond deepened, I could’ve accepted it as love. But he didn’t.” Her smile twisted, haunted. “He marked me that night. And I collapsed. I don’t remember anything else.”

Thorne’s jaw tightened. Rage smoldered behind his composed exterior. He knew—instinct screamed—that Alaric hadn’t marked her for love but for the status of Alpha. And when he got what he wanted, he cast her aside.

“Did you drink anything before?” he pressed, his tone sharp, protective.

“Yes.” She blinked, recalling. “Brielle handed me champagne to celebrate. Now that I think on it… I must have been drugged. And those photographs I later saw—who knows if that stranger took advantage of me?”

The dead of night wrapped around them as they walked side by side, two figures carrying unspoken weight. Despite the pain woven into their words, their closeness carried a strange warmth, like embers refusing to die.

Thorne’s voice softened. “When you woke, did you feel… different? I mean, I’ve never… but I’ve heard the first time is painful.” He glanced at her, searching for confirmation, piecing together the puzzle.

Celeste shook her head. “No. I only felt tired, which I assumed was from the mark. No soreness. No pain. No blood. Nothing.”

Relief washed through Thorne like a tide. His fists unclenched. Neither Alaric nor that nameless intruder had claimed her. If they had, he would’ve hunted them down and torn them apart himself. No one dared to touch what fate had marked for him.

“Don’t burden yourself with it,” he murmured. “The past is full of shadows. What matters is now.” He hesitated, then asked carefully, “And… what about me? What about Alpha Thorne?”

Celeste sighed, her emotions tangled. “When he appeared—when you appeared—my wolf sang. For the first time since rejection, I felt whole. The bond with you was like stepping into another world. Stronger, brighter. I was thrilled to have a second chance so powerful it could eclipse the pain of Alaric’s betrayal.”

She laughed quietly, almost self-deprecating. “Before that, I thought the other she-wolves were insane, swooning over you. I thought they exaggerated your aura, your command. Then I saw it with my own eyes. You walked like the world itself bent for you, even other Alphas couldn’t defy you.”

Her voice broke softly. “I wanted to see regret in Alaric’s eyes when I rose at your side. But instead, he crushed me again by rejecting me.”

One tear slipped free before she wiped it quickly away. Her free hand lingered at her face while the other remained entwined with Thorne’s. “That rejection hurt more than the first. Because this time, I had hope.” She exhaled shakily. “But at least… he wasn’t as cruel as I thought he could be.”

Thorne’s heart twisted violently. Regret coiled inside him like a serpent, biting deeper with every word she uttered. Her pain was his fault, even if she didn’t know the full truth. And yet, one thing unsettled him more than anything—the words she had spoken last.

His voice dropped, strained. “What do you mean by that?”

Celeste’s gaze drifted, distant. “He could’ve let Alaric finish what he started. But he didn’t. That man… whoever he is… remains a mystery.”

Thorne’s chest eased with the smallest flicker of relief. At least she didn’t despise him entirely. But still, he couldn’t keep the question from breaking free, raw and vulnerable, the one that had clawed at him since the day she entered Wolfsbane Pack.

“Tell me, Celeste…” he whispered, eyes locked on hers. “…do you feel anything for him?”