Lionel offered a curt nod. "Good morning, Mother."
Joseph nodded once. "Ashley."
Ashley didn't speak. Her jaw was clenched, fists tight at her sides as her eyes locked on the unconscious girl in Lionial's arms.
She could already feel it. This wasn't a patient. This wasn't a guest. This was a threat.
"Who is she?" the Queen Mother asked, a warning hidden in her velvet voice.
"No one you need to worry about right now," Lionel said calmly. "She's not well. And she's ours."
The last words were spoken deliberately.
Ashley's eyes burned. Her throat tightened. But she said nothing. Because she felt it too, now—the unmistakable energy of a mate-bond. The kind that no amount of training, politics, or privilege could ever create.
The Alphas moved past them without another word, carrying Andrea inside, leaving silence and speculation in their wake.
And outside, as the whispers rose louder and the rumors spun faster, Ashley stood beside the Queen Mother, her jaw tight with rage.
She was supposed to be the Luna. She was the chosen one. And yet here Andrea was—half-conscious, nameless, unknown. And already beloved.
Lionel moved with quiet care as he lowered Andrea onto the oversized queen bed. Her body barely stirred, her pale skin still kissed by moonlight. The linen sheets looked too crisp, too untouched for someone like her—someone who had bled in the woods, who had been alone too long.
He stepped back, jaw tense, allowing the pack doctor to begin his examination.
Joseph stood by the window, arms crossed, the tight set of his mouth betraying his worry. Matthew leaned against the far wall, his golden gaze flicking between Andrea and the doctor, never settling.
The room was silent except for the faint rustle of fabric and the steady rhythm of Andrea's breathing.
Finally, the doctor looked up. "She's stable. Her vitals are fine, but… she's weak."
"She's been unconscious too long," Joseph said sharply. "Why hasn't she woken?"
"She will," the doctor assured. "Whatever strain her body went through last night—it's over. She just needs rest."
Lionel nodded once. "Then let her rest."
The words were firm. Dismissive. Directed not at the doctor, but at the others in the room.
The Queen Mother.
And Ashley.
The Queen's brows lifted slightly. "Lionial—"
"Not now, Mother," he said, cutting her off without looking.
A pause. Sharp. Cold.
"Fine," she said, voice clipped. "But we will talk."
Ashley lingered by the door, her gaze burning into Andrea's sleeping form. Every fiber of her posture screamed protest, but she said nothing.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
The doctor bowed slightly and gathered his things. Ashley gave Lionel one last look—half wounded, half defiant—then turned on her heel and followed the Queen Mother out.
The door closed with a quiet click.
Silence followed.
Lionel turned toward his brothers. "We'll take turns watching her."
Joseph nodded. "No one else comes in."
Matthew crossed his arms. "We don't even know what she is, but she's not just a stray. That much is obvious."
Outside the door, the Queen Mother didn't move far. She stood with her arms folded, surrounded by her silent entourage—Beta James, loyal and unreadable, and Amalia, their sister, sharp-eyed and more curious than angry.
"Well?" the Queen Mother asked. "Who is she? And why is she in the future Luna's room?" The brothers looked at one another, hesitation passing between them like a current.
No one spoke right away. Because none of them had the full answer. They didn't know what Andrea was. Only that she was theirs.
The Dreaming
Darkness. Not cold. Not frightening. Just endless and still.
Andrea floated somewhere between sleep and something deeper, her body numb, her breath slow. But inside her mind, a door creaked open—and behind it, the storm waited.
Then the whisper came again. Happy birthday, little one...
It wasn't the same as before. This voice was clearer. Female. Familiar in a way that tugged painfully at her chest.
"Who… are you?" Andrea murmured into the void.
No answer.
Just light.
A pale, golden glow broke through the darkness like dawn cracking the horizon. Andrea turned toward it, her bare feet finding ground that hadn't been there before. Grass—soft, silvery, and glowing faintly beneath her steps.
She walked forward.
The light grew stronger, forming a figure ahead—a woman in a long white gown, her hair the same shade of sunlit gold as Andrea's. Her eyes glowed like molten amber, warm and ancient.
Andrea slowed, breath catching in her throat. "I know you…"
The woman smiled sadly. "You should."
Andrea's heart clenched. "Are you—my mother?"
The woman didn't answer directly. She reached out, touching two fingers gently to Andrea's forehead. At the contact, a flood of images burst behind Andrea's eyes.
A cradle wrapped in silver threads. Wolves howling beneath a blood moon.
A tower of stone. A burning door.
A baby—her—wrapped in a glowing blanket and handed to a stranger with shaking hands.
"Why did you leave me?" Andrea asked, her voice cracking.
The woman's smile faltered. "To save you."
The dream trembled around her. The grass darkened. The air grew heavy.
"They were hunting you before you were born," the woman whispered. "You are not just wolf, or witch, or fae. You are all and none."
Andrea's pulse raced. "What does that mean?"
"It means your bloodline was forbidden. A union that broke every law. You should not exist."
"But I do."
"Yes," the woman said softly, pride flickering in her gaze. "You survived."
The golden light behind the woman began to fade. Shadows crawled in at the edges of the dream. The ground shook.
"They found you," the woman said, eyes narrowing. "Your mates. The bond awakened too soon. Your power will follow."
"What power?"
But the woman was already fading, her voice thinning like wind in the trees.
"When you wake, remember this: not everyone will rejoice to see you alive. And those who fear you... will try to destroy you first."
The world shattered like glass.
Andrea screamed as fire burst through her veins, as if every part of her soul had been set alight. She clutched her chest, gasping, until—
She woke.
Gasping.
Drenched in sweat. Her skin tingled, her heart thundered, and her body ached like it had been pulled through time, but she did not remember the dream.