POV: Soraya
I knew returning to the desert world outside Zehrael would be complicated.
But I never prepared myself for this—for seeing the people I once bled beside look at me like I’ve risen from the dead.
The moment Baltimus and I are escorted into the side chamber reserved for private greetings, I barely have time to adjust to the shift from the massive hall—until:
“Soraya?”
A small, broken whisper slices through the space like an arrow.
Then another voice—raw, disbelieving:
“Moon above… Soraya?”
Before I can even react, Vienne slams into me so hard I stumble back a step. Her arms wrap around my shoulders and she bursts into loud, shaking sobs. I freeze for half a heartbeat, then clutch her just as tightly.
She smells like desert rain and dried herbs—like home, a different kind of home than Zehrael, but one my heart still recognizes.
“You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive,” she chokes, repeating it like a prayer.
My own eyes sting. “I’m here. I’m alive.”
Tazir arrives next—loud, reckless Tazir—except right now he moves slowly, as if afraid I’ll dissolve if he touches me. His hands hover before he finally grips my shoulders gently, searching my face like he expects to find a ghost.
“It’s really you,” he murmurs, voice unusually soft. “Soraya. Not a trick. Not a dream.”
I laugh shakily. “Pretty solid for a dream, I hope.”
He pulls me into a brief, crushing hug, muttering curses into my hair about how I’d scared him half to death, how Vienne cried every night for a week, how Kaide threatened to bury himself in work to forget.
Speaking of Kaide—
I turn, and he is standing a few feet away, shoulders trembling with barely held-back emotion. His usually steady composure is fractured—eyes red-rimmed, arms rigid at his sides as if one wrong movement might break him.
“Kaide,” I whisper.
His breath shatters. He closes the distance in two long strides and pulls me into his chest with a force that steals air from my lungs. Kaide never hugs like this—never openly, never without restraint. But now he clings to me like a drowning man.
“I thought you died,” he rasps into my shoulder, voice breaking in a way I’ve never heard. “We searched for days. We found blood. Tracks ending at the cliff. We—” His voice collapses. “We thought you were gone.”
“I almost was,” I admit softly. “But Zehrael found me. They saved me.”
Kaide pulls back, hands on my arms, scanning me for injuries long healed. “You’re really here.”
“I’m here,” I repeat.
Baltimus steps back several paces, giving us space without a word. His expression is unreadable but calm—he understands this reunion belongs to them and me, not him.
It makes affection swell in my chest—quiet, steady gratitude for a man who never tries to claim more than I willingly give.
“We need to sit,” Vienne says, wiping her tears as she pulls me toward a cushioned bench. “Tell us everything. Everything. Start to end.”
So I do.
I tell them about the cliff. About nearly dying. About Zehrael land—alive, hidden, powerful. About the glowing blue sands and the moonstone cliffs. About Heira and the elder healers. About learning to control my powers instead of fear them. About my wolf—how she finally became part of me instead of something I fought. About becoming part of Zehrael. About gaining a home.
About marriage to Baltimus—not a love-bound union, but a partnership formed out of survival, protection, and trust.
Vienne gasps, then smiles, then wipes more tears. “A Luna? Soraya—Soraya, you’re a Luna now.”
Tazir whistles. “Baltimus, huh? Well, I can’t compete with a mythical moon tribe Alpha. Good for you.”
Kaide listens in silence, but his hand never leaves my arm—as if anchoring me here, making sure I remain real. Every time I mention pain, he flinches. Every time I mention strength, his eyes shine with pride.
I didn’t realize how much I missed him until now.
I’m still telling them about the Zehrael training halls when a shift in the air makes the hairs rise along my spine.
My back straightens slowly. My pulse stutters. My wolf lifts her head.
Because from across the chamber—through a carved stone archway left open for air—Raevan stands watching.
He is half-hidden behind Azhara, who has latched onto his arm like a jeweled parasite, but he barely seems aware of her.
His eyes are locked on me. Like he’s seeing sunlight for the first time after a year in darkness.
Pain grips my heart.
Sharp.
Kaide notices where I’m looking and immediately stiffens. Tazir steps a little closer to Vienne. Baltimus—silent as ever—moves subtly to angle his body protectively toward me.
Raevan does not enter the room. He does not speak.
He doesn’t even breathe, from what I can tell.
He simply stares.
At me.
At the wolves embracing me. At Baltimus standing behind me. At the marks of Zehrael adorning my arms. At the gold Luna clasp on my shoulder.
Shock ripples over his face—first disbelief, then devastation, then something darker, heavier.
Azhara whispers furiously into his ear, tugging his arm as if trying to drag him away. Her expression is twisted with fury and fear.
He doesn’t move.
For one suspended moment, it feels like every wolf in the capital holds its breath.
Waiting. Wondering.
How does an Alpha react when the ghost of the woman he loved walks into his empire wearing another man’s title?
Raevan’s jaw clenches.
His hands flatten at his sides. His chest rises once—sharp, painful—as if he’s trying to breathe but forgot how. His eyes flicker from my face to the Luna clasp again. A wound he never expected. A truth he never prepared for.
Then he turns and walks away—silently, rigidly, Azhara trailing behind him—as though if he stays one second longer, he’ll break the entire hall apart.
Vienne squeezes my hand. Kaide lowers his eyes.Tazir mutters something under his breath.
Baltimus breathes in slow, steady calm behind me.
My heartbeat drums painfully against my ribs. My throat burns.
I thought I was prepared.
I wasn’t.
Reuniting with my friends warms my soul.
But seeing Raevan… alive, hurting, changed—and seeing myself reflected in his grief—That nearly destroys me.