Chapter 40
Chapter forty
Ashwiyaa
“Don’t hide who you are. Be bold. Be proud.”
The sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow across the rippling water. The gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of wildflowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of the riverbank. Behind me, the Northwest pack is gathered, their presence a comforting backdrop to the scene before me.
There are over fifty shifters living on the property, a fact that initially surprised me.
I’d overheard in passing that the beta and a Kitsune owned the bordering properties, turning this area into an extremely secluded sanctuary.
It’s a place where the pack can live in peace, away from the prying eyes of the outside world, a place where they can be themselves without fear.
My eyes track the children playing by the water’s edge, their carefree laughter filling the air.
They chase one another, their small forms darting around like quicksilver, splashing in the shallow water and throwing themselves into the simple joys of the moment.
Their energy is infectious, bringing a smile to my lips as I watch them.
Out of nowhere, a pang of longing hits me in the chest, sharp and sudden, leaving a lingering ache that I can’t quite shake.
It’s a feeling I didn’t expect, one that I don’t know what to do with.
Watching those children, so full of life and innocence, stirs something deep within me—something I haven’t let myself think about, ever.
Turning away from the children, my gaze travels over the group, and I spot Seraphina sitting in the grass with Talon and Astraea.
Neither are talking out loud, but I can tell they’re communicating.
I could pry if I wanted to, but I won’t.
It’s a line I’ve never crossed. Yes, I can read emotions and flick through memories, but I refuse to access people’s inner thoughts.
Seraphina must say something amusing because Astraea tips her head back and giggles, the sound light and pure like chimes in the wind.
The young dragon huffs out a small cloud of mist, his tiny wings fluttering with excitement.
Watching them, a smile tugs at my lips. Nesrin and Lukas’s daughter is going to be the most protected child, surrounded by so many strong allies and loved ones who would do anything to keep her safe.
My gaze shifts to Nesrin, and I still can’t quite believe she’s pregnant.
When I saw her three months ago, I hadn’t noticed anything, but now it’s unmistakable.
By the looks of it, she’s at least six months along.
The change is striking, and it’s clear that everyone around her is keenly aware of it too.
People naturally gravitate toward her, offering their attention and care, doting on her as if she were a queen carrying the future of the realm.
But it’s more than just the pregnancy that draws people to Nesrin.
There’s something about her, an aura of authority, power, and protection that she wears effortlessly.
Even now, as she stands in the midst of the group, her hand resting gently on her rounded belly, she exudes an air of command.
I’ve noticed the alpha keeps her in his sights the entire time, and the level of devotion and protection that radiates from him brings a grin to my lips.
Sensing someone approach, I turn and see the Kitsune coming my way. If anyone is on par with my abilities, it’s him. His warm-brown eyes crinkle as he smiles at me.
“Kai is just calling Salena. He said he’d be back soon.”
“Thanks, Gabe.”
He nods his head. “What had you smiling before?”
“Oh, just how your alpha has Nesrin constantly in his sights. It’s kinda adorable.”
Gabe barks out a laugh. “Don’t let him hear you call him adorable.”
I bite my lip to stop my grin. “It’s so good to be back.”
“Are you okay?” Gabe asks, softly reading me well.
My eyes quickly shift upward to meet his gaze, and a nervous lump forms in my throat. “I don’t know. A lot has changed.”
“Yes, it has,” a sweet, ancient voice whispers reverently.
“You finally let us in,” another adds.
I gently close my eyes and release a sigh, the weight of the past few days pressing down on me. “I didn’t think I was going to make it.”
“But you did.” Gabe’s voice cuts through the silence, steady and reassuring.
I open my eyes and find myself staring at him, the truth of his words slowly sinking in. “I did.”
Gabe nods, his gaze steady. “You also wear the markings of a spirit.”
My eyes widen in surprise, and I tilt my head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Gabe’s gaze lowers, trailing over my body, but not in a way that feels intrusive or uncomfortable—he’s looking at something. The summer dress Nesrin gave me flows gently around me as the wind picks up.
“The gold bands,” he murmurs, his voice thoughtful. “It’s magic. You accessed the spirits.”
I glance down, not seeing the golden bands. I know they are there, but I hid them. As I let go of the concealment, they faintly shimmer against my skin, delicate and ethereal, like they’re not quite of this world. They pulse softly with a rhythm that feels both familiar and foreign.
“How . . . did you see them?” I ask.
Gabe’s expression shifts to amusement as he meets my eyes again. “I’m special.”
I can’t help but laugh at his casually spoken words.
“You must have connected with the spirits during your ordeal. They’ve left their mark on you—a sign of their protection, their power.”
“I didn’t even realize . . . they didn’t appear until I was healed.”
He steps closer, his presence grounding me amidst the swirl of emotions. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s not surprising that the spirits would reach out to you, offering their guidance and strength.”
“Is this you guys?” I ask my ancestors.
“Yes, you finally accepted us.”
“Standing apart from the group and silently watching everyone.” Nesrin taps her chin. “Now who does that remind me of?” she teases.
I was completely unaware of Nesrin’s presence until she stepped right up beside me. With a chuckle, Gabe raises his palms, a playful light in his eyes.
“Your markings are beautiful,” Nesrin says.
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to help bring the food out,” Gabe says, nodding at both of us.
Nesrin and I watch Gabe leave, the quiet moment lingering between us before she turns to face me. Her gaze is gentle but searching, her concern evident in the softness of her voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Her words catch me off guard. My breath hitches slightly, and a flood of emotions surges up in my throat, threatening to choke me.
It’s a simple question, but one that holds so much weight.
Apart from Kai, no one has ever truly asked if I’m okay, if I’ve come back hurt or injured, or if I’m in any kind of pain.
And now, in such a short span of time, both Gabe and Nesrin have shown this unexpected concern for me.
I don’t know how to answer. I’ve always prided myself on being strong and independent, someone who can handle anything thrown my way.
Growing up, showing weakness wasn’t an option—it was met with swift and severe punishment.
I learned early on to bury my vulnerabilities deep, to hide them behind a mask of unshakable strength.
So, to have someone care, genuinely care, about how I’m feeling—it’s unsettling.
I struggle to find the right words, the right way to express how foreign this all feels. “I . . .” I begin, but my voice falters, the uncertainty of how to respond making me feel more exposed than any battle ever could.
Nesrin doesn’t push. She simply waits, her patient presence a comfort in itself.
The concern in her eyes is real, and it’s that sincerity that starts to crack the walls I’ve built around myself.
I can feel the years of guardedness, of self-reliance, starting to loosen their grip, but it’s hard to let go.
“I’m not used to this,” I finally manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never . . . had anyone ask if I’m okay. Apart from Kai.” And even then, I don’t think I’ve ever let him truly know. Every time he asked, I turned it physical, distracting him.
Nesrin nods, understanding flickering in her eyes. “It’s not easy, is it? Letting someone else in, allowing them to care about you.”
I shake my head, my throat tightening with the effort to hold back the emotions that threaten to spill over. “No, it’s not. I’ve always had to be strong, to handle everything on my own. Showing weakness . . . it wasn’t safe. It’s never been safe.”
Her hand reaches out, gently resting on my arm. “You don’t have to do it all alone anymore,” she says softly. “You’ve got people now—people who care about you, who want to be there for you.”
Her words hit me harder than I expect. I’ve always believed relying on others is a weakness, a vulnerability that can be exploited.
“I’m not sure I know how,” I admit.
Nesrin squeezes my arm gently. “That’s okay. It’s a process, and it takes time. But you’re not alone in this.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, the words heavy with the weight of everything I’m still trying to process.
Nesrin smiles, a warm, understanding smile that reaches her eyes. “Anytime. Now let’s go eat.”