chapter 171
Tori's POV:
Lucas and I returned from the hospital in comfortable silence, his hand never leaving mine during the drive back to our residence.
Once home, he guided me upstairs with gentle hands, and we found solace in each other's arms—a wordless reassurance that whatever complications lay ahead, we would face them together.
Afterward, as I lay against his chest listening to his steady heartbeat, I should have felt at peace.
But I didn't.
The Luna ceremony was close. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw myself standing before the entire Grayson Pack, hundreds of eyes judging whether an Omega with my past was worthy of being their Luna.
Lucas seemed to sense the anxiety building in me even before I fully acknowledged it myself.
He didn't push me to talk about it, didn't demand explanations for the moments when I'd drift away mid-conversation, my mind spinning through worst-case scenarios.
Instead, he simply... stayed.
---
The next afternoon, Morgan's cheerful voice echoed through the residence before she'd even fully entered.
"Tori! I brought sustenance for the pregnant Luna-to-be!"
I looked up from the book on wolf pack dynamics I'd been studying—determined to be the best Luna I could be—as Morgan breezed into the living room.
She carried an enormous basket overflowing with flowers and what smelled like her mother's famous chicken soup.
"Morgan?" I blinked in surprise, setting the book aside. "What are you doing here? Don't you have classes today?"
"Called in sick," she said cheerfully, completely unapologetic. "A certain Alpha was worried his Luna might anxiety herself into an early grave before the ceremony, so he asked me to come provide some much-needed distraction and moral support."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "Lucas sent you?"
"Who else?" Morgan grinned, setting the basket on the coffee table. "He called me this morning, all serious Alpha voice, saying—and I quote—'Morgan, Tori needs a friend today. Can you be with her?' Like I wouldn't drop everything for my best friend anyway."
I pressed my hands to my burning face. "I can't believe he did that."
"I can." Morgan plopped down beside me, already unpacking the basket. "The man is completely gone for you. It's actually kind of adorable, in a terrifying Alpha sort of way."
The afternoon drifted by in a haze of warmth and laughter, the kind I'd dreamed of during those long, lonely years in Silver Fang.
Morgan's presence was like sunshine, bright and uncomplicated, chasing away the shadows that had been clinging to me since the hospital encounter with Susan.
As evening fell and Morgan was gathering her things to leave, Martha appeared in the doorway with a carefully wrapped package.
"Miss Tori, this arrived for you earlier," she said gently, her knowing eyes soft with understanding.
My heart stuttered when I saw the return label—Susan Shepherd's studio address.
I carefully unwrapped the package. Inside was a painting, and my breath caught in my throat.
It was me—in the wedding dress from that day at the boutique. But this wasn't the photograph Susan had taken.
This was painted, every brushstroke filled with such tenderness and care that tears immediately blurred my vision. The way she'd captured the light on the fabric, the uncertain hope in my expression, the delicate flowers in my hair—it was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache.
A letter was tucked beneath the frame. My hands trembled as I unfolded it.
Dear Tori,
I owe you an apology for my behavior that day. For one moment, seeing you in that dress, I forgot myself and saw someone else—my little girl, I lost long ago. That wasn't fair to you, and I'm deeply sorry for any distress I caused.
I wanted to paint this for you properly, the way you deserve to be seen.
I hope this ceremony brings you all the happiness you deserve. May you be the happiest Luna Moonhaven has ever known.
With sincere wishes,
Susan Shepherd
I finished reading the letter with tears streaming down my face, the careful script blurring before my eyes.
If only I could be her daughter, I thought, the wish rising unbidden from somewhere deep in my chest.
I carefully lifted the painting, holding it up to catch the lamplight.
The girl in the wedding dress looked back at me with hope in her silver eyes—hope that maybe, just maybe, she could become someone worthy of being loved.
Thank you, I whispered to the painted image, to Susan wherever she was, to the universe that had brought such unexpected kindness into my life. Thank you for seeing me.
---
The evening before the Luna ceremony arrived faster than I'd expected, bringing with it a tradition I hadn't known existed.
"The future Luna and her Alpha aren't supposed to see each other the night before the ceremony," Elizabeth explained when she'd called earlier. "It's considered bad luck. Old superstition."
So Lucas had reluctantly agreed to spend the night at the main Grayson estate with his family, while I remained at our private residence with Morgan and Martha for company.
Except I couldn't sleep.
I'd tried everything—warm milk, lavender oil, counting backwards from a thousand in multiples of seven.
Nothing worked.
I hadn't realized when it had happened—when Lucas's presence had become more of a necessity. When the sound of his breathing had transformed from something that kept me awake to something I needed to fall asleep. When his scent had stopped being overwhelming and started being... home.
The bed felt too big without him. Too cold. Too empty.
I rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time, punching the pillow into a different shape as if that would somehow make a difference.
I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to calm my racing heart, when I heard it—a soft thump against the window.
I sat up, heart leaping into my throat. Another thump, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a muttered curse.
Moving to the window, I pulled back the curtain and nearly laughed at what I saw.