Chapter 69

LLOYD

Misty was sad to leave after spending three wonderful days at the beach house. I counted them as the best days of my life. We had done little besides swimming, chatting, and making love.

Vetus and Cammy got their wish, and their bond strengthened ours.

Although we had marked and mated, the time together helped me better understand how Misty’s brain worked, and I was fascinated by both body and brain. She also exposed me to how things work in this century.

My sense of direction was good, and I knew which way to go, although Misty advised that I didn’t know the roads and we might be going the long way around. I didn’t mind that either.

The time in the car afforded us the opportunity to talk about our childhood, and Misty told me how she’d always been blamed when things broke.

Her story about Alpha Martin and Luna’s birthday cake made me laugh till my sides hurt. I could picture her lying on the floor with cake all over her, and I definitely needed to try chocolate mousse cake.

The mountains loomed closer, and their jagged, majestic peaks repeatedly pulled my gaze toward them. They looked exactly as I remembered—unchanged and eternal—and for some reason, that comforted me more than I expected.

The forest looked smaller than I remembered, but it was still there.

As we drove through a small town called Cragshadow, which didn’t exist in my day, signs began to appear advertising Cragshadow Sanctuary.

“Oh,” Misty murmured, her brow furrowing. “It’s a sanctuary. We probably won’t be able to go in.”

I glanced at her, confused. “Why not?”

“The area is restricted to the public except for certain times of the year,” she explained almost apologetically. “And you have to pay to enter.”

“They do that now?” I asked, genuinely astonished. Restricted areas and fees—these were foreign concepts to me. “Well, that’s not going to stop us. We’ll go in wolf form.”

Misty grinned, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “All right, but…is this the place?”

I nodded, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. “Yeah, this is it. Although, this town? It wasn’t here before. The land was wild, untouched…”

My voice trailed off as I scanned the now-developed area. The sanctuary still beckoned like a piece of the past, a link to the days when the mountain was free of such things.

“We need to find a place to park, and we’ll have to be cautious when shifting. There are houses scattered around the area. Maybe we should check into a hotel and go for a walk from there? We don’t want some cop inspecting the car and towing it because it’s parked on the roadside.”

“They do that?” I asked, surprised for the second time in minutes.

Misty nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Yep, they do.”

“All right, hotel it is.” I made a quick U-turn and headed back toward Cragshadow, and moments later Misty pointed at a worn-out sign that read ~Motel~ right on the edge of town.

“Perfect.” I pulled in and parked.

“Give me your wallet, and I’ll check us in,” she said with a teasing grin.

I shook my head. “No, I’ll come with you and observe. I’m not letting you go alone.”

Checking in was simple enough, and within minutes, I unlocked a room that looked like it had seen better days—decades ago. We both paused at the door, sniffing the air and wrinkling our noses in unison.

“It’s…a bit icky,” Misty grimaced.

“And there’s a fence behind the motel, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” My voice was tinged with impatience. I was itching to explore, to reconnect with the land that called to me, filling my mind with long-buried memories.

I turned to Misty, her eyes bright with anticipation. “I want to show you the lake and where my old pack used to gather. We didn’t have a pack house, just a communal area back then.”

“Let’s go then,” she said, reaching for my hand.

Misty scanned the area for cameras. Something else I wasn’t familiar with, but there were no cameras or people in sight as we made our way behind the motel.

Satisfied, I extended a claw and swiftly sliced through the fence, lifting the wire so she could slip through. I followed close behind, my senses alert.

We walked for several minutes until we were well out of sight, then undressed and hid our clothes. Shifting, Vetus took the lead joyously.

I inhaled deeply, but the air held no trace of a pack—no scent of wolves, no lingering presence.

As pups, we had roamed wild and free, never warned to be wary of humans. Occasionally, they ventured into our territory, but we had been skilled at avoiding them. But it was still home, and the emptiness now felt like a loss.

I kept an eye on Misty, making sure she kept pace as we neared the foothills. Vetus instinctively guided us along the mountain’s edge until we reached a small waterfall, its sound blending with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.

~“Oh, this is beautiful,”~ she linked, her eyes fixed on the shimmering water.

~“There’s a small cave behind the waterfall,”~ I told her, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. ~“It’s more of a ledge, really—not deep, just big enough to sit comfortably. Want to check it out? My brothers and I played here daily as pups. It’s where I learned to swim.”~

Curiosity and excitement came through the bond. I took that as a yes and shifted. She followed immediately. “Do we have to swim across?”

“You guessed it,” I said, pulling her close with a grin. “But fair warning, this water is much colder than the sea…”

She dipped her toe in and immediately shivered. “It’s freezing.”

“I’ll warm you up after,” I promised with a smirk.

We waded into the pool, and even I had to admit it was colder than I remembered—either that or I didn’t notice the chill as much when I was a pup.

“Holy hell, it’s cold,” Misty gasped, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, her breath coming out in sharp inhales.

“Come on, get on my back. I’ll carry you across,” I offered. She scrambled onto my back, her legs locking securely around me as I carried her through the water, her laughter mixing with the sound of the waterfall.

I skirted around the edge, but there was no avoiding it—we had to go straight through the waterfall.

“Hold your breath,” I warned, then plunged forward, pushing through the icy torrent. My hands quickly found the lip, and with a swift motion, I heaved us inside, water streaming off us as we crossed into the dry shelter behind the falls.

Misty slid off my back, immediately pressing into me, her whole body shivering. “That was a shock to the system,” she said through chattering teeth.

I wrapped my arms around her, rubbing warmth back into her skin, but my attention was already drawn to something else. Against the rock wall, partially hidden by shadows, lay a hemp-wrapped bundle, weathered with age.

“What,” Misty asked, sensing my excitement. I turned her around, and she gasped. “Do you think…”

“I’m not sure,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder would disturb whatever had been left here. “I never came back after we hunted Finn. He told me the pack was wiped out, but I never knew when.”

Crouching down, I cautiously reached for the bundle. The brittle hemp fell apart at the slightest touch, crumbling to dust between my fingers, and something metallic clattered against the rocky floor.

“It’s a knife,” Misty whispered in awe, her eyes glued to the object. “Oh, and something else…”

I inhaled sharply, my breath suddenly shallow as I crouched down and picked it up, feeling its weight settle into my hand.

My heart hammered in my chest as I recognized what I was holding. This wasn’t just any knife—it was the Shadow Moon Pack’s ceremonial blade—

Unlike the polished and ornate ceremonial knives used in the palace, this one was raw, handmade.

The wooden hilt, smooth from years of use, fit perfectly in my hand as though it had been made for me. Its simple design made it all the more powerful. The blade was dull, its edge worn down by time, but it radiated a sense of history. My history…

Misty knelt beside me, her hand resting on my arm as she studied the knife with reverence. “Is that a pack knife?”

“It is,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

I gripped the worn hilt tightly, as if somehow clinging to it would bring back all that was lost—the bonds, the pack, the sense of belonging that had been ripped away.

“This means more to me than anything in the palace,” I admitted, my voice strained and hoarse.

Misty swallowed and nodded. She felt the depth of what this knife represented—the history, the loss. “And the brooch?” she asked, her voice gentle but inquisitive.

For a moment, I had forgotten about the brooch. The knife had overshadowed its presence, but now, I picked it up with trembling hands, holding it as if it were the most fragile thing in the world.

The memories it stirred rushed through me, almost overwhelming.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself composed. “This…this belonged to my mother,” I whispered. “But she couldn’t have left it here. She was already slain by the time the pack fell.”

The brooch was simple, a bronze ring with a crescent moon delicately etched in the center. Yet, despite its plainness, it held more meaning than any royal artifact. It was part of my family—part of a time I could never get back.

“It must have been one of the pack members who placed it here. Maybe one of your brothers?” Misty suggested, her tone careful, as if not wanting to intrude on such raw memories.

I shook my head. “No. We all joined in the hunt when it happened.”

“Your father’s beta?” she asked, trying again.

“No,” I murmured, shaking my head once more. “He was with us too. But…maybe his mate. She stayed behind when we left. She would’ve known when the pack link broke.”

Misty’s eyes glistened as she looked at me, her lip quivering slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Lloyd. It might have been centuries ago for everyone else, but it’s only been a few years for you.” She sniffed, trying to keep her own emotions in check.

I nodded silently, unable to speak. I could feel the tears welling up, the ones I’d refused to shed for so long. Since the curse, I had buried my grief deep beneath layers of vengeance, never allowing myself the luxury of mourning.

A single tear slid down my cheek, followed by another. And then another. I hadn’t cried—not once since everything was taken from me. But here, I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Misty wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close and guiding my head to rest against her chest. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t need to. She just held me, allowing me to finally release the storm that had been buried deep inside me.

And in her embrace, I let go. I let the tears fall. I let the grief overwhelm me. The weight of it all—the loss, the years of enslavement and revenge—it all poured out.

I didn’t feel alone in it. Misty was there. She understood, and slowly, the grief subsided.