The moment the car stopped, the hum of the engine faded into silence, and my senses sharpened. The scent of salt, metal, and cold wind hit me all at once.
Silver Shore.
Even before Julian opened his door, I knew where we were. The place where my story had ended.
A sleek black Maybach was parked beside us, its surface reflecting the pale winter moon. I couldn't help but wonder who else would be drawn here to this cursed stretch of river on a night when even the wolves hid from the cold.
As Julian stepped out, I followed, my spirit tethered to him by the remnants of our bond. The frosty air carried faint traces of pack energy echoes of those who had stood here before, unaware of the death that had once soaked into the soil.
Memories surged through me, raw and relentless.
I remembered dragging the weight of my Luna gown behind me, the fabric heavy with tears and humiliation. My heart had been nothing but shattered glass back then, each step cutting deeper.
Despite everything the betrayal, the public disgrace part of me had still loved him. That was the cruelest truth of all.
The bond between mates doesn't fade overnight. It burns, even as it destroys you.
When Julian walked away from me that day, he didn't just end an engagement he ended my place in the pack. Between Camilla and me, he'd chosen her.
And that decision hollowed me out until there was nothing left but a shell that breathed.
I could still see myself standing here, the river's wind whipping through my hair, my wolf howling somewhere deep inside not from anger, but from unbearable loss.
Then came the pain.
I hadn't sensed the attacker until it was too late. One heartbeat, I was staring at the water… the next, a sharp, cold blade slid between my ribs.
There was no time to fight back, no time to shift. My wolf screamed, but my body failed her.
I looked down and saw the steel glint crimson under the moonlight. Then everything went dark.
I fell right here.
The river had devoured everything: my blood, my scent, my body. The earth itself seemed to conspire to erase me.
Now, standing in that same spot or rather, hovering I searched with new eyes. I combed every patch of frozen soil, every ripple in the water, for a trace of what was once me. My phone. My necklace. Anything.
But the river had claimed it all.
Julian's voice cut through my haze. "Uncle Lewis? When did you return to the territory?"
I turned toward the riverbank… and froze.
Lewis sat there, facing the water, a long black coat draped over his shoulders like a shadow. His wheelchair barely made a sound, but his presence did heavy, commanding, unmistakably Alpha.
His skin was pale, his eyes sharp and golden, catching the moonlight like a predator's. Even now, as spirit and wolf both, I felt the urge to lower my gaze. Instinct. Dominance.
Lewis wasn't Julian's uncle by pack bloodline in the traditional sense. He was the son of an affair born of Alpha Jeffrey Hale and a foreign she-wolf. His lineage was undeniable, but his existence was an embarrassment the Hale pack had buried for years.
He'd spent most of his life beyond pack borders, living among rogues and lone wolves, untouched by Hale politics. Yet even from a distance, his aura had always been… unsettling. Powerful.
The first time I met him, I remembered trembling beneath his gaze. There was something primal about Lewis the way he watched, the way the air bent to his will. His wolf didn't need to snarl to show its strength. It simply was.
And now, seeing him here, in the very place where I died, something deep in me stirred.
Because in every moment when death had stalked my heels… it was Lewis who had found me.
I remembered the storm the one that nearly ended me. A rogue wave had dragged me out into the open sea, my wolf too weak to surface, my lungs burning as the current pulled me under. I had clung to a splintered plank, my energy fading, the bond that tethered me to Julian growing dim.
And then, out of the endless darkness, his aura appeared fierce, commanding, impossible to mistake. Lewis.
His cargo ship had cut through the chaos like a beast answering the call of a dying packmate. His crew had hauled me aboard, dripping and half-conscious, and I remembered the low growl in his chest as he'd watched me shiver under the blanket.
"Breathe, little wolf," he had said. "You're not dying tonight."
He was my savior that night and yet, we never spoke of it again.
When I prepared the invitations for my mating ceremony, I wrote his name by hand. The ink had bled slightly across the parchment, but the words were steady: To Lewis Hale thank you.
I sent it with a gift from my heart, even though I doubted he'd come. He'd long since distanced himself from the Hales from all their politics and poisoned loyalties.
But Lewis Hale wasn't someone the world could ignore. He didn't rise quietly; he commanded it to kneel.
A wolf with that kind of power didn't need to roar his silence was enough.
So when Julian and I arrived at Silver Shore and found him there sitting by the river in his dark coat, golden eyes reflecting the moonlight I froze.
Julian stiffened beside me, though he tried to mask it. His Alpha instincts faltered under the weight of Lewis's presence. Even seated in a wheelchair, Lewis radiated dominance calm, unshakable, lethal.
He lifted his gaze slowly, his expression cold and unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice sliced through the air like frost.
"Do I owe you an explanation for where I go or what I do, Julian?"
Julian's confidence cracked. "N-No, of course not, Uncle Lewis," he said quickly, the respectful tone almost forced. "I was just wondering what brings you here, especially in this kind of weather."
Lewis's lips twitched not in amusement, but something colder. "Funny," he murmured. "I was about to ask you the same. Shouldn't you be with your mate, instead of haunting the place where she vanished?"
Julian gave a short, awkward laugh. "Don't tease me, Uncle Lewis. Elena's… upset with me right now."
At the sound of my name, Lewis's eyes hardened. A subtle growl rumbled in his chest quiet, but dangerous.
"I don't think her anger is the problem," he said. His words carried Alpha weight, the kind that made the air tighten. "Her mistake was choosing a wolf like you."
Julian's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching under his skin. "Uncle Lewis!"
Lewis didn't look at him again. His gaze drifted back to the water calm, reflective, like he could see more than what was visible to the eye. Then he turned to the tall figure standing behind him.
"Theo," he said softly. "We're leaving."
Theo, his enforcer, stepped forward towering, scarred, and silent. His scent was heavy with dominance and blood, the mark of a wolf who had seen too many battles. Without a word, he began to push Lewis's chair forward, guiding him over the uneven ground.
Julian stood still, his fists trembling at his sides, glaring at their retreating forms. He looked smaller in that moment stripped of his usual confidence, his wolf unsettled beneath his skin.
Then, just as Lewis disappeared into the shadows, Julian muttered under his breath, his voice low and bitter.
"In the end, Elena still chose to bond with me."
I froze.
Why say that now? Why to him?
There was something in his tone something defensive, possessive… uncertain.
And suddenly, a realization clawed at me from deep inside.
Lewis had always kept his distance. Always cold. Always controlled.
But what if that wasn't disinterest? What if that was restraint?
Because for the first time, I wondered had Lewis always known something about me… something I didn't?