Chapter 2 The Boy with Storm Eyes

The sleepy town of Havenridge woke with the slow golden rise of morning. Sunlight filtered through lace curtains, casting soft patterns over the wooden floor of the modest cottage tucked at the edge of the forest.

Inside, the smell of lavender and warm porridge filled the air.

"Lior," Elira called softly, drying her hands on a towel as she peeked into the small bedroom. "Time to wake up, sweetheart."

A tousled head of dark curls peeked out from under the blanket, followed by a pair of gray eyes that still stole her breath.

Lior blinked at her, a lazy smile forming on his lips. "Is it Sunday?"

Elira chuckled. "Yes, and you know what that means."

He gasped and threw off the blanket, jumping to his feet in mismatched socks. "Book day!"

"Yes," she said with a laugh, catching him before he could dash out of the room. "But first, porridge. Then you can drag me to the market square like last time."

He scrunched his nose. "Only if I get honey on top."

"You drive a hard bargain."

They shared a smile-one of those deep, unspoken ones that only a mother and child could understand. In that look, Elira saw everything she had fought for these last five years. And every day, it felt more worth it.

The boy she'd nearly died giving birth to had grown into a wonder.

Curious, clever, and stubborn to the bone. He asked questions she didn't always know how to answer. He climbed trees too tall, tried to talk to animals, and once insisted he could fly because the Moon Goddess told him in a dream. She often found herself marveling at him-how someone so small could carry so much light.

And yet...

There were moments.

Moments when his eyes darkened like thunderclouds. When the air around him shimmered with an energy too powerful for a five-year-old. When wolves in the distance would stop and stare toward their cottage, ears alert, nostrils twitching.

Moments when Elira knew she couldn't keep his truth hidden forever.

He was Alpha-born.

And more than that... something ancient stirred inside him. Something she didn't fully understand.

Later that morning, they strolled through the market square, hand in hand. Lior babbled about a story he'd dreamt-something about wolves made of stars and a cave filled with moonlight.

Elira smiled, letting his voice wash over her like a balm. The village bustled with weekend chatter, clinking mugs, laughter, and music drifting from the inn on the corner.

But then she felt it.

A shift in the air.

Her wolf stirred inside her, restless and alert. She paused, scanning the crowd. Nothing seemed out of place. But the sensation remained-like being watched from somewhere far away.

"Elira?"

She turned to see Mae, the local apothecary, waving her over. "I made that herbal oil for Lior's fever spells. Come grab it before I forget!"

Grateful for the distraction, Elira guided Lior through the stalls.

But just beyond the cobblestones and laughter, in the shadows of the trees bordering the town, a scout from the Bloodfang Pack crouched in silence.

He had tracked the whisper of a scent here-faint but undeniable.

Jasmine and fire.

He hadn't reported back to Alpha Kael yet. Not yet. Because what he saw in the square made no sense.

Elira Hale was supposed to be gone. Dead, some whispered. Lost to rogues or living like a ghost.

But there she was.

And beside her...

A boy.

No more than five.

With Alpha Kael's eyes.

That night, Kael stood before the crescent moon, his jaw tight as his wolf paced beneath the surface. He hadn't slept in days.

The dreams had returned. Visions of fire and crying, a woman's scent on the wind, and the soft echo of a child's voice calling to him through a fog he couldn't break.

He told himself it was nonsense.

He had chosen his path.

His Luna had been too soft, too fragile for a life that demanded strength. She had refused to embrace the darkness it took to lead a pack like Bloodfang.

Or so he believed.

Until Rowan, his most trusted scout, returned that evening with a trembling in his voice Kael hadn't heard in years.

"You need to see this," Rowan said, placing a folded sketch on Kael's desk.

Kael's eyes narrowed as he opened the parchment.

It was a crude charcoal drawing-but the likeness was unmistakable.

Elira.

Older now. Stronger.

And next to her, a boy with his face. His eyes. His soul.

For a long time, Kael didn't move.

Then, softly-dangerously-he spoke.

"Where?"

Back in Havenridge, Elira stood at the edge of the woods that night, her arms wrapped around herself.

Her instincts had never failed her. She felt the shift, the pull-the electric buzz of a bond that should've been broken.

Kael was stirring.

And something told her the quiet life she'd built for Lior was about to shatter.

A leaf crunched behind her.

She whirled, heart pounding-but it was only Lior, holding the worn rabbit plush she'd sewn for him.

"Mama?" he asked softly, rubbing his eyes. "Are we going to have to leave again?"

Elira knelt before him, pulling him into her arms.

"No," she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. "Not this time."

Because this time... she wouldn't run.

This time, if Kael wanted to find her-if he dared come for what he'd left behind-he would face the woman he rejected.

And the son he never knew he had.