517- The Unspoken Bond That Refuses to Break
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
"My father found it during one of his expeditions, hidden in the ruins of a temple that no one else knew existed. He believed this vase belonged to the first alphas, created in honor of the pact between wolves and the gods. The abstract marks here"—I pointed to the engraved details—"aren't just decorations. They're symbols of protection and power that date back to the origins of our species."
I could feel the weight of memories as I continued: "My father kept it like a treasure, knowing it carried something more than historical value. He studied it for years, but... the Dark Mercantes were always watching. Somehow, they discovered what he had and stole it."
Anton took a step forward.
"They sent it to my father, years ago, as an apology."
I blinked, holding back tears, and stared at him, frowning.
"An apology?"
"After you came here, they attacked us; they got to me and threatened my life. My father promised war against them for that, so they sent the vase as an apology, and we never heard from them again, until William's call months ago."
"He... he never mentioned anything about this."
"He didn't know; my father never wanted to talk about it, didn't want him to carry guilt that wasn't his." I hugged myself, feeling shaken and sensitive from the new discovery. "I'm sorry, Thalyndra, I didn't know it belonged to you," he apologized.
For years, he had looked at the designs, trying to discover where they had auctioned the vase and what they had done with it. That's why I recognized it, even though I hadn't seen it in person, in color, until then.
On one of their escapes, he didn't have time to grab the vase, so he hid it. When he returned to retrieve it, weeks later, it was no longer there. Somehow, the Mercantes discovered the hiding spot and took the artifact.
"I'm sorry they did that, that they terrorized you and your family just because you tried to help us."
Anton stepped even closer, raised his arm, and touched my face, resting his hand on the curve of my neck.
"They never terrorized us; it was just a misfortune. If they had continued, there wouldn't be any more Mercantes." He pointed with his chin at the vase. "It's yours; it belonged to your father."
"I'm not going to take it from here."
"I know you won't."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, because soon you're going to come live with me and you'll want the vase in your house." He winked.
I pressed my hand against his chest and snorted.
"You're so full of yourself."
He leaned in and planted a kiss on my forehead, inhaling, absorbing my scent.
"Do you know why I wanted to keep it?" he asked. I shook my head, denying it. "My father always hated this vase because it belonged to the Mercantes; he didn't know it was William's; if he had, he would have returned it already. When I built the house, I asked to bring it, and he let me."
"Why?"
He aligned our faces, keeping them at the same height to speak:
"Because, deep down, it reminded me of you."
"Of me?"
"Yes, of you. In my head, everything involving the Mercantes reminded me of your family. I knew I would only receive news about you because of them, any kind of news. So, I associated the two." He cast a glance at the vase and opened a half-smile. "The vase made me remember the shy little girl who barely spoke, but who was capable of making my heart race, even when I had no idea what the feeling was."
I let the air escape from my lungs.
"You said... you said you didn't remember," I stammered, my throat tight and voice faltering.
He smiled.
"And I lied."
"Why?"
His fingers caressed my skin gently.
"Everything has its time." He gave a quick kiss to my lips. "But now, you know the truth—you weren't the only one keeping memories. The vase was a way I found to carry you with me, even if I couldn't clearly remember your features."
I exhaled, blinking rapidly to push away more tears that had gathered in my eyes.
"You're a..." I couldn't find the exact words to express myself.
"Hot? Incredible alpha? The sexiest wolf of all?" he mocked.
I rolled my eyes and snorted.
"An incredible and complete arrogant, but also one of the best people I've ever known," I whispered.
He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.
"That's because you have, and always have had, my best version, Little Beast. I'm an alpha; I have wild and brutal instincts, but never against you," he murmured, his breath touching the skin of my cheek. "I'm not a good person, nor one of the best anyone could have known. But for you, I will always be my best version."
Deep down, I knew that every one of his words rang with the purest and most absolute truth. But no, I didn't care. I possessed the same instincts as him. Anton had already seen me at my worst—how I could be cruel, cold, and murderous. He wasn't scared; he didn't even care. We were equal, two sides of the same soul.
"I like all of them."
He smiled and pulled away, returning to the kitchen.
"Of course you do."
I watched him, feeling something growing inside me, a new and deep feeling I still couldn't identify. I didn't fear what it would mean—not anymore.