I guarded the tomb of the Lycan Prince for ten years, only to discover it was an empty coffin.
He had used me, his mate, as a decoy, faking his death to escape his enemies. Now, he returned at the head of an army, storming into the territory he once ruled. On the day of our reunion, he knelt before me, asking if I would be his Luna.
The pack whispered of his undying devotion, of how fortunate I was to have him back. But I refused.
Because my heart belonged to someone else.
A Delta warrior who had stayed by my side during those long, isolated years in the wilderness.
---
The remote territory where I guarded the tomb was silent, cut off from the world. I went about my daily routine, sweeping the stone steps of the mausoleum, the sound of the broom scraping against the ground the only noise in the stillness.
For a decade, this had been my life. But today was different.
Rumors had spread that a powerful Alpha named Drake Montgomery had led a rebellion, reclaiming the territory he once ruled. Some even claimed it was the Lycan Prince himself, back from the dead.
But my mate, Drake Montgomery, had died. I had seen it with my own eyes.
He died in the second year of our bond, his eyes filled with tears as he whispered his last words to me. “Stephanie, if there’s another life, I’ll never leave you.”
I didn’t blame him. The life of a Lycan Prince was treacherous, and I had accepted that. That night, I had planned to follow him in death, but I discovered I was pregnant. I was confined to the packhouse, isolated and alone.
When I was three months along, a rogue posing as a servant poisoned me. I lay unconscious for a day and a night. When I awoke, I knew the pup was gone.
My grief was unbearable. The Lycan King stripped me of my title as Luna and offered me the chance to remarry. But I was empty, a shell of who I once was. I chose exile, volunteering to guard the tomb of the Lycan Prince for the rest of my life.
As I lost myself in these thoughts, a voice called out behind me. “Stephanie.”
It trembled, heavy with emotion.
I gripped the broom tightly, my heart pounding as I turned around.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he stood, alive and real.
Drake Montgomery, dressed in black combat gear, his piercing gaze fixed on me, his eyes red with unshed tears.
“Stephanie, it’s me! I’m Drake.”
I recognized him instantly. My mate. My lost love.
“Stephanie, I’m so sorry for all these years. You’ve suffered so much.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace, his tears warm against my neck.
“But… you died,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
I looked past him, scanning the faces of the warriors behind him. My blood turned cold. They were his most trusted pack members, faces I recognized from years ago.
So he had taken his loyal pack members with him, but left me behind in that cold, empty packhouse.
A wave of bitter sadness washed over me, and tears filled my eyes.
Drake gently wiped them away with his thumb.
“Don’t cry. We’ve won.”
His warriors cheered, their voices echoing in the silence. But their joy only deepened my pain.
They rounded up the guards who had been stationed at the tomb.
“Your Highness, these are rogues loyal to the traitorous Alpha. What should we do with them?”
Drake glanced at them indifferently.
“Kill them.”
The guards fell to their knees, begging for mercy. They were nothing but low-ranking pack members, forgotten in this desolate place. Their lives meant nothing to him.
But one man stood tall, calm and composed.
It was Gerardo Martin, my mate.
Yes.
I had not remained loyal to Drake.
