Chapter 84 We’re Home

Chapter 84 We’re Home
REIKA'S POV

The morning we left, Aurelia was heavy with silence. My father stood tall before the gates of his Kingdom, every inch the Lycan King, yet his eyes betrayed him. They softened whenever they landed on me, on Apollo, and most of all on Caelum. He had agreed to our compromise, but I could feel the unspoken ache in his heart as he watched us prepare to leave.

The Aurelia council stood behind him, somber and regal. However, their faces held mixed expressions, some of resignation, some of doubt, and a few of quiet approval. They had expected a different outcome. They had hoped to claim Caelum fully as Aurelia’s heir, but instead, he would grow in Thunder Howl, raised not as a crown but as a child.

Father stepped forward, his cloak sweeping the polished stone. “My daughter,” he said, his voice rich and steady, but I heard the crack beneath it. He clasped my shoulders, bending his forehead briefly to mine. “You are my heart. You are your mother’s light. Do not forget that, wherever you go. And when the time comes, you will return. Not only for Aurelia, but for yourself.”

I swallowed hard against the tears burning my eyes. “I will return, Father. But right now, my place is with Apollo. With our son. With the pack that gave me a home when I was lost.”

His gaze shifted to Apollo then. For once, there was no test, no fire or challenge, only respect. “Protect her,” he said simply. “Protect them both. And remember that Aurelia will always be bound to you, Alpha Apollo.”

Apollo inclined his head in a deep nod, his arm wrapping protectively around me and Caelum. “You have my word, my King. My life, if need be.”

Father’s hand lingered one last time on Caelum’s tiny head, a blessing unspoken but felt. Then he stepped back, the distance between us suddenly vast.

As we crossed the borders of Aurelia, I looked back once. He stood there still, tall and unmoving, but his figure blurred with my tears.

The journey home felt longer than the one that brought us here. But there was a difference now, I wasn’t the girl who had first entered Aurelia, uncertain of her place, trembling under the weight of titles and duties. I was Luna. I was a daughter. I was a mother. And I carried with me the strength of both legacies: Aurelia’s crown and Thunder Howl’s bond.

Apollo rode beside me, his wolf Ragnar restless beneath his skin, eager for home. Every so often, he would reach across and place his hand over mine, as if to remind me that no matter what storms awaited us, we faced them together.

And Caelum—our little miracle—slept peacefully in my arms for most of the journey. When he stirred, Apollo leaned close, listening to his heartbeat, whispering things only father and son could share. I could feel the bond between them strengthening each day, and it filled me with a joy so fierce it almost hurt.

When at last we approached the borders of Thunder Howl, a sound rose on the wind, a howl. Low at first, then building, until it was a chorus that made my chest swell. Our pack had felt us near. They had gathered to welcome us home.

The sight stole my breath. The entire pack stretched across the clearing before the great hall, warriors and elders, mothers and pups, all waiting, all watching. The banners of Thunder Howl rippled in the breeze, black and silver under the sunset.

Orion stood at the front, his head bowed in deep respect. Beside him, the elders held torches, their flames swaying in rhythm with the pack’s heartbeat. And when we crossed the final stretch, the entire pack bent to one knee, their heads lowered in reverence.

I gasped softly. Never before had I seen such unity, such raw devotion. Apollo’s hand tightened on mine, his chest swelling with pride. Ragnar surged inside him, howling in triumph.

“Thunder Howl welcomes its Alpha home!” Orion’s voice boomed, carrying across the crowd. “And our Luna, the daughter of Aurelia herself! And the future heir, born of both legacies, blessed by the Moon Goddess, Caelum!”

The pack erupted. Cheers, howls, voices raised to the heavens. I held Caelum tighter, my tears falling freely now. He stirred at the noise, blinking his newborn eyes, as if the sound of his people had already called to him.

We dismounted, and Apollo lifted Caelum high for all to see. “Behold!” he roared, his voice thick with pride and fierce authority. “The Moon Goddess has blessed us. Our line continues. Our strength multiplies. This is my son, my heir, our future!”

The howls that followed shook the very trees around us. Wolves shifted in flashes of silver, black, and grey, their voices carrying to the skies, as if answering the Goddess herself. I felt the power of it in my bones, in my very soul.

Apollo lowered Caelum then, placing him gently back in my arms. His eyes met mine, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded: the cheers, the fire, the world itself. It was just us, bound by love, by fate, by a future we had fought tooth and claw to protect.

That night, the celebration burned brighter than any I had ever known. The great hall overflowed with feasting and laughter, music rising from flutes and drums, the firelight dancing across the walls. Wolves shifted freely, running through the night in joy, their howls carrying across the forests.

I walked among them with Apollo at my side, Caelum in my arms. Everywhere we went, hands reached out, not to touch, but to bless, to bow, to honor. The eyes of our people glowed with hope, with pride, with fierce loyalty.

Elders came forward, chanting ancient blessings, calling upon the Moon Goddess to protect our child, to guide his steps, to weave his destiny. They marked his forehead with silver ash, a sign of the Goddess’s light.

I looked down at Caelum then, his tiny face serene, and felt the vision from my dreams stir again, the light, the howls, the crown of silver flame. Our son was meant for greatness, but tonight, he was simply ours.

Apollo leaned close, his lips brushing my temple. “We’re home,” he whispered.

“Yes,” I breathed, my heart swelling until I thought it might burst. “We’re home.”

And as the firelight danced, as the pack howled in triumph, as the stars themselves seemed to bless us from above, I knew this was only the beginning. Aurelia’s crown, Thunder Howl’s bond, the blood of Lycans and wolves alike, all of it lived in Caelum.

But for now, he was our child. Our miracle. Our future. And nothing, not curses, not kingdoms, not even the weight of duty, could ever take that from us.