POV Blake
Death, it turns out, is really fucking comfortable. Like a sensory deprivation tank filled with nothing.
No pain, no guilt, no disappointing your parents or lying to your mate. Just blissful, consequence-free floating.
‘Wake up.’ My wolf, the persistent bitch, kept poking at my consciousness like a kid with a stick.
‘Go away,’ I told her. ‘I'm busy being dramatically dead.’
‘Mate needs us. Wake. Up.’
She accompanied this with the mental equivalent of an air horn, because apparently even in death I couldn't catch a break.
The first thing I noticed was warmth. Not afterlife-white-light warmth, but solid, breathing, definitely-alive warmth wrapped around me like the world's best weighted blanket.
The second thing I noticed was the distinct lack of excruciating agony where my side had been turned into werewolf tartare.
Oh, and the third thing? The absolutely wrecked face of my mate sleeping two inches from mine.
Matthias looked like shit. Beautiful shit, but still.
Dark circles, hollow cheeks, that particular exhaustion that came from pushing mate healing past its limits.
Because of course the self-sacrificing idiot had absorbed my injuries. Of course he'd literally taken my pain into himself.
I touched his cheek—barely a whisper of contact—and his eyes snapped open like I'd electrocuted him.
"Blake?" His voice cracked on my name. "You're—"
"Not dead, apparently." My own voice sounded like I'd gargled gravel. "Plot twist."
He made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob, and then we were both crying like idiots.
Him apologizing for sending me away, me apologizing for the whole treason thing, both of us generally making a mess of ourselves.
"I read Amelia's diary," he said between truly unsexy crying hiccups. "I know what they did. I know why you couldn't—"
"Can we maybe discuss my tragic backstory after I get some water?" I interrupted. "Resurrection is thirsty work."
He blinked, then laughed—actually laughed—and scrambled off the bed so fast he nearly face-planted.
"Water. Right. Fuck. Doctor. I should get the doctor."
"Matthias?" He paused at the door, looking back with so much hope it physically hurt. "Thank you. For not letting me die dramatically in the woods like some discount Shakespeare character."
"Always," he said simply, and my wolf preened like he'd declared us queen of the universe.
* * *
One weeks later my post recovering era, I was standing before the assembled Bloodmoon Pack like the world's most nervous TED talk presenter.
"So to recap—I'm not actually Amelia Bishop. I'm Blake, her twin sister, sent here to spy on you because my parents are psychotic assholes with a generations-old grudge."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some confused, some angry, most just processing the telenovela-level drama their Luna had brought to their doorstep.
"I lied to you. Betrayed your trust. Fed intelligence to your enemies." Each word felt like ripping off a bandaid made of guilt. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyway because apparently I'm also selfish on top of everything else."
"You fought for us," someone called from the back. "When it mattered, you chose us."
"After choosing wrong for months," I countered. "Let's not rewrite history here. I fucked up spectacularly."
"Language, my dear," Sage Helen chided gently, earning a few chuckles.
"Right. Sorry. I messed up spectacularly." I took a breath. "But I promise—on my life, on my sister's memory—that I will protect this pack until my last breath. You gave me something I never thought I'd have. A home. A family. A mate who apparently loves me despite my numerous personality defects."
"They're features, not bugs," Matthias called out, because he was contractually obligated to be supportive even when I was roasting myself.
"Debatable." I turned serious. "Amelia would have been an amazing Luna. She was kind, powerful, everything I'm not. But she chose death over deception, and in doing so, gave me the chance to find you all. To find myself. We'll build a monument in her honor by the lake—"
"Away from the frog pond," Matthias added quickly.
"—away from the frog pond," I agreed, side-eyeing him. "Because while I've embraced most of Amelia's legacy, the amphibian phobia isn't part of it."
The pack's laughter felt like absolution. When they howled their acceptance, my wolf nearly burst with joy. We belonged. We were chosen. We were home.
Another week later, after my redemption arc speak in front of my pack, we were standing at Amelia's memorial. I traced her name carved in stone while Matthias wrapped around me from behind.
"Think she'd be pissed I stole her life?" I asked.
"I think she'd be grateful you turned her sacrifice into something beautiful," he murmured against my hair. "Even if you did it in the most chaotic way possible."
"Speaking of chaos..." I turned in his arms, suddenly nervous. "What are the odds you think it'll be twins?"
He blinked. "What?"
"Twins. You know, two babies instead of just one. Simultaneously. Like a BOGO deal but with offspring."
"Blake, what are you—"
"I'm pregnant, you dense beautiful man."
The silence stretched for approximately thirty years before he finally processed.
"You're…"
"Pregnant, Matthias. Knocked up. With a child. Bun in the oven. Recreating the magic of life in my—"
He cut me off by lifting me clear off the ground, spinning us both until I was dizzy and laughing and crying all at once.
When he finally set me down, the kiss he gave me should've been illegal in several territories.
"One or two or three or ten," he said against my lips. "I don't care as long as they're ours."
"Goddess, you're cheesy-ass Alpha." But I was smiling so hard it hurt. "Our kids are going to be so embarrassed by you."
"Our kids," he repeated, wonder in his voice. "Fuck, Blake. We're having kids…"
"Kid or kids, verdict's still out." I pressed closer. "But yeah. We broke the cycle, Matthias. No more psychotic parents. No more conditional love. Just us and whatever chaos we create."
He kissed me again, there by the memorial to the sister who'd made it all possible, while our packlands stretched peacefully around us.
The mate bond hummed with contentment, my wolf practically purring with satisfaction, and for the first time in my life, I felt completely, perfectly whole.
"I love you," I told him, meaning it with every fiber of my disaster-prone being.
"I love you too," he replied. "Even if you did commit light treason."
"It was moderate treason at most."
"We'll workshop it."
We stayed there as the sun set, planning a future that would've seemed impossible months ago.
No more lies. No more hiding. No more being the spare.
Just Luna Blake and Alpha Matthias and the beautiful, chaotic life we'd build from the ashes of who we used to be.
And if those kids did turn out to be twins? Well, at least they'd never doubt they were both wanted.
Equally. Fiercely. Forever.
THE END