Chapter 6 The drive from the airport wasn't a return; it was a crossing. The city's chaos fell away, silence thick with something older, wilder. My wolf no longer cowered She stirred, restless, called home by the hum of the pack bond, by trees whispering to the moon and fields alive with prey. Then the gates appeared, towering, runed, etched with our bloodline's crest. The symbols glowed faintly, alive with protective magic older than my father's reign. They were more than gates; they were the threshold between the human world I had endured and the sacred land that claimed The old estate loomed beyond, its stone walls veined with ivy, glyphs carved deep into its bones. Wolves in black uniforms lined the drive, their scents sharp with steel and loyalty, silent as the car passed. Here, no one asked why you came. Only blood allowed you through. When the vehicle stopped, I immediately felt it, every wolf's eyes. From guards, from windows, from the shadows where wolves lingered unseen. Even the ghosts of the past seemed to watch. The weight of the pack pressed down, measuring me, judging. And then I saw him. My father. Alpha Magnus Vale stood at the top of the stone steps. He looked like a weathered king beneath the moon's crown. Silver hair framed a face carved by war and loss, but his stance remained unbroken, his aura a tide of dominance that bent the air itself. Wolves lowered their eyes, but I held mine, because I was his blood. He did not speak when I reached him. He only opened his arms. And I went to him. His embrace was iron and memory, the unyielding strength of an Alpha who had never surrendered. His scent, pine, smoke, and something older, familiar, wrapped around me, and for a moment I let myself melt, my wolf pressing forward, as if she was recognizing home. Then my brothers appeared. Edrick and Ram. They looked so much older now, broader in build, their wolves simmering just beneath their skins. Ram's lazy smirk was still there, but his eyes shone wet with unspoken relief. Edrick's presence was heavier, carved by battles I had not witnessed, his neck scarred by some predator's fangs, his aura simmering with quiet violence. Edrick pulled me into his arms with a grin. "Welcome back, little sister. The pack feels whole again." Ram's hug was rougher, his chest vibrating with a low growl meant for comfort, not threat. "Took you long enough." For the first time in decades, I felt as though I had not vanished completely from the tapestry of this family, this pack. My wolf stirred, tentative, but awake. That night, I slept in my old chamber. The sheets smelled faintly of lavender and wolf musk. My journals were still on the shelf where I had hidden them, untouched but not abandoned. Someone had cared enough to keep the dust away. Happy Reinction Mu 1/2 10 1 1 6:43 pm A The following night, my father summoned a formal pack gathering. He did not ask. He commanded like the King he always was. The great hall filled with faces I had not seen in years, Alphas of allied Packs, elders draped in furs and iron, their necks heavy with silver pendants carved in the shapes of moons and beasts. Wolves in tailored suits and silken gowns, all radiating the hum of restrained dominance. It felt like stepping back into the golden age of power, when lineage and loyalty mattered more than crowns or coin. I wore black. Simple, clean, unadorned. I had no interest in dazzling them. I only wished to reclaim myself. The air rippled with whispers before I even sat beside my father at the Alpha's table. "She looks thinner than I recall." "Older, too. The years marked her harshly." "Abuse does that." "That is the price of betraying your blood for a male who could not even protect her." "She spent decades chasing love that never chased her back." Their words stung, but I refused to bow beneath them. I sat tall, shoulders straight, my wolf pressing against the weight of their stares. I belonged here. I did not eat much of the feast, the roasted venison, the bloodwine, the honeyed bread. Hunger did not live in me that night. I studied the gleam of silver blades on the table instead, each polished too bright, each reflection cutting sharper than truth. Then my father's voice rolled across the hall, silencing every whisper with a single breath. "I never disowned you, Stella," Alpha Magnus said, calm but resolute, his gaze locked on mine." watched from afar. Every wound. Every silence. Every year of your suffering. I saw it all." He did not roar, did not need to. His voice was dominance incarnate, a storm that demanded submission. "I did not stop you, not because I did not care, but because I was waiting for the day you would choose yourself again." The words struck deeper than claws. My composure broke. I fell to my knees, face buried in my father's lap as sobs tore out of me. He said nothing, only stroked my hair, like he used to when I was a child, afraid of the storm. "It's all right," he murmured, his voice a rumble of promise. And in that moment, I understood, I was not broken. I was finding my way back to my wolf. Later, past midnight, the silence of my chamber was pierced by the buzz of my phone on the nightstand. The air was thick with old wood, fur, and the memories of the girl I used to be. The name on the screen made my heart clench. Mark. My thumb hovered. I could have ignored it. But I didn't. Couldn't. I answered. "Ma?" His voice was casual, yet beneath it throbbed confusion, tension, the edge of something Chapter 6 6:43 pm sharper. "Did you block Dad?" I said nothing. He went on, impatient. "He's furious. He said his messages aren't going through. What's going on?" Still, I held my tongue. Mark sighed, but the shift in his tone was unmistakable, the growl in his bloodline rising through his voice. "Why would you do that? He wants to talk to you." "Mark, don't-" I began, but he cut across me. "He wants to talk. I'm putting him on." "No-" Too late. Alpha Shawn's voice slithered through the speaker, venomous and familiar, heavy with the smugness of a wolf who believed himself untouchable. 'Still sulking, Stella?" His words coiled like smoke, cruel amusement lacing every syllable. 'You always were dramatic. One slap, and suddenly it's abuse? You parade yourself as some tragic heroine now?" The air in my chest turned to ice. 'You know what your problem is?" he sneered, his voice sharpening to a blade. 'You think pain makes you special. Like you're the first woman to be corrected by her mate. That was discipline. I reminded you where your place was." The walls blurred. My fists trembled around the blanket, knuckles white. 'And now you block me? Me?" His laugh was low, cold, a wolf's chuckle before the bite. "Afte everything I've done for you? You think you can cut me off? You're mine, Stella. You have always Deen mine." Chapter 6 2/2 11.3% 6:43 pm