Three years. One thousand and ninety-five days since I'd fled the Moonveil Pack with nothing but the clothes on my back and the heart in my chest that wasn't mine. Now, I stood behind the counter of my own flower shop, arranging a bouquet with the same careful precision I'd once used to serve the pack that had discarded me.

The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up with the smile I'd practiced until it felt natural. 'Welcome to The Luna's Bloom. How can I help you today?'

The shop had become my sanctuary in Silverfang territory—a small waterfront space with large windows that let in streams of sunlight. The walls were lined with vases filled with blooms I'd arranged not by color or season, but by the emotions they seemed to carry. Grief, hope, resilience—flowers spoke in ways words sometimes couldn't.

'Just browsing,' the customer murmured, but I noticed how her fingers lingered over the arrangement of white moonflowers and blue forget-me-nots. I'd placed them together because they seemed to whisper of memories worth keeping and wounds worth healing.

As she left with a bouquet that looked nothing like what she'd come in for, Maren Cole—the Silverfang healer who'd become my first real friend—leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. 'You've got that look again,' she said with a knowing smile.

'What look?'

'The one where you're arranging flowers and suddenly you're a million miles away. Thinking about him, aren't you?'

I didn't need to ask who she meant. 'He'll be on patrol soon,' I said, checking the clock. Sure enough, the shop door opened precisely at 2:15 PM, and Dane Powell walked in.

He didn't speak immediately. He never did. Instead, his eyes—steady, observant eyes that held shadows I recognized—surveyed the shop before settling on me. Then on the sunflowers.

'The usual?' I asked, already reaching for the one sunflower in the bunch that faced slightly away from the others. The lonely one. The one that somehow matched the quiet solitude in his gaze.

Dane nodded, setting a single bill on the counter—always exact change, never a tip, because tips implied obligation and he never wanted me to feel obligated. 'How's business?'

'Good,' I said, wrapping the stem in paper. 'Better than good.'

He took the sunflower, and for a moment, our fingers brushed. Something warm and unspoken passed between us—not the desperate, demanding pull I'd felt with Colton, but something steadier. Something that asked for nothing.

The shop door burst open again, this time with a crash that made me jump. A man stumbled in—disheveled, reeking of alcohol, with the unmistakable wildness of a former rogue who hadn't fully adjusted to pack life.

'You!' he slurred, pointing at me. 'Discount. Now.'

Before I could respond, he lurched forward, knocking over a display of daisies. His hand grabbed my wrist, hard enough to bruise. 'I said discount! Do you know who I am?'

I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. 'Let go,' I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

The air in the shop changed. Dane moved with the fluid precision of a Beta, not rushing, not shouting. He simply stepped forward and released a controlled wave of his Beta aura—not the crushing dominance of an Alpha, but something equally powerful in its restraint.

The rogue's eyes widened in sudden, sobering fear. He dropped my wrist and stumbled backward, nearly falling over himself in his haste to escape.

Dane didn't chase him. He didn't need to. When the door slammed shut, he turned to me, and the power in his eyes softened. 'Are you okay?'

Three simple words, asked with such quiet concern that it made my throat tight. I nodded, rubbing my wrist where the rogue's fingers had left red marks.

'I should have been here sooner,' he said, and I could hear the self-reproach in his voice. 'I heard the commotion from outside.'

'It's fine,' I said. 'You're here now.'

And that was the moment I realized how safe I felt with him—not because he'd saved me, but because he'd asked if I was okay afterward. Because he stood beside me instead of in front of me.

The shop door opened again, and a customer walked in, oblivious to what had just happened. Dane stepped back, giving me space, but his eyes never left mine.

'I'll finish my patrol,' he said, and I nodded, watching him walk away with the sunflower in his hand.

I didn't know then that across the border, in the territory I'd fled, Colton Owens was stepping out of his car, his wolf suddenly howling with recognition as the wind carried my scent to him for the first time in three years.

I was arranging a bouquet of moonflowers—delicate white petals that seemed to glow even in daylight—when the air changed. Subtle at first, like the moment before a storm breaks, but unmistakable to someone who had spent years reading the emotional currents of a packhouse. My fingers stilled on a stem, and the hair on my arms rose slightly. Something was wrong. The shop felt different, charged with an energy that didn't belong to the peaceful sanctuary I'd built over three years.

The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up with my practiced welcome smile. The smile froze on my face.

Colton Owens stood in the doorway of The Luna's Bloom, his broad shoulders blocking the afternoon light. He looked exactly as I remembered and entirely different—still devastatingly handsome in that Alpha way that commanded attention, but there was something wild in his eyes now. Something desperate. His gaze swept over the shop, taking in the vases of flowers, the gentle colors, the life I'd built without him. When his eyes finally landed on me, I felt the mate bond—the bond I'd tried so hard to forget—surge like a current between us.

'Priscilla,' he breathed, my name on his lips like a prayer and a curse all at once.

I forced my hands to steady, reaching for the pair of scissors on the counter. 'How did you find me?'

He took a step forward, and I caught the scent of him—pine and winter air, the same scent that had once made my heart race with love instead of dread. 'I felt you,' he said simply. 'The bond—it's been pulling me for weeks. I couldn't resist anymore. I had to see...' His voice broke. 'I had to see if you were real. If you were really alive. If I'd really lost you.'

Behind the counter, I was glad for the solid wood between us. 'You left me to die, Colton. You made your choice.'

'I was wrong.' The words exploded from him, raw and desperate. 'I was so wrong. Every day without you, every night with her, I feel it. The emptiness. The wrongness. Priscilla, please—'

'Stop.' My voice came out sharper than I intended. 'You don't get to do this. You don't get to waltz in here and act like the wounded one.'

He moved closer, his Alpha aura beginning to fill the shop like a physical pressure. The air grew heavy, making it harder to breathe. 'You belong with me,' he said, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that had once made me weak. 'You belong in Moonveil. With our pack. With my bloodline. With me.'

I gripped the counter, my knuckles white. 'I don't belong to anyone.'

'You owe me,' he said, and the words hit like a physical blow. 'You owe my family. My mother gave you her heart, Priscilla. Her heart beats in your chest. You think you can just walk away from that debt?'

The heart in my chest—his mother's heart—seemed to beat faster, but not with fear. With anger. With a strength I hadn't known I possessed. 'The heart is the only thing I haven't repaid,' I said, my voice dropping to a cold, deadpan whisper. 'Everything else—every humiliation, every betrayal, every moment you made me feel worthless—that debt is paid in full.'

His face contorted with rage and something else—pain. 'You're my fated mate,' he growled. 'You can't just—'

'She's not yours.' The voice came from behind him, steady and controlled. Dane stood in the doorway, his Beta aura radiating quiet power. 'Not anymore.'

Dane moved with the fluid precision I'd come to recognize, positioning himself between Colton and me. The air in the shop shifted as his cedar-and-earth scent cut through Colton's aggressive Alpha pheromones, creating a buffer between us. I could see the tension in Dane's shoulders, the careful control in every muscle as he faced down the Alpha who had once torn my world apart.

'You need to leave,' Dane said, his voice low but carrying the unmistakable authority of his Beta rank. 'This is Silverfang territory, and you're not welcome here.'

Colton's laugh was cold, dismissive. 'I don't take orders from Betas.' His eyes flicked to me, then back to Dane. 'Especially not for her.'

The mate bond between Colton and me pulsed painfully, but I forced myself to stay still, to let Dane handle this. I'd spent too long being Colton's possession to fall back into that role now.

'I said, leave.' Colton's voice deepened into the unmistakable resonance of an Alpha command. The air grew heavy, pressing down on us with supernatural force. 'I am Alpha of Moonveil, and I claim what's mine.'

For a heartbeat, I saw Dane's jaw tighten—the only sign of the pressure he was under. Then his eyes met mine briefly, drawing strength from something I couldn't name. When he spoke again, his Beta tone was concentrated, focused into a weapon that cut through Colton's command like a blade.

'You. Will. Leave.' The words came out individually, each one carrying the full weight of his rank. 'You abandoned her. You rejected her. You have no claim.'

Colton staggered back a step, his Alpha aura faltering. I could see the shock in his eyes—the shock of being denied, of having his power not just challenged but broken.

I stepped forward, moving to stand behind Dane. His warmth was solid, real, nothing like the demanding heat of Colton's presence. 'Walk me home, please,' I said softly to Dane, my hand brushing his arm. The gesture was small, but I felt the tremor it sent through him.

Dane nodded once, his eyes never leaving Colton. 'We're done here,' he said, and the finality in his voice was like a door slamming shut.

* * *

Back at the Moonveil diplomatic quarters, Liliana paced the length of the room, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. Colton had returned from his mysterious errand with a haunted look in his eyes, his wolf so agitated that even the pack warriors had noticed.

'What happened?' she demanded, watching him pace like a caged animal. 'Where did you go?'

Colton didn't answer. He couldn't. The mate bond's pull had become unbearable, a constant howl in his mind that no amount of distance could silence.

Liliana's lips thinned to a cold line. She'd spent three years trying to build a life with a man whose wolf would never fully accept her, and she'd be damned if she let some ghost from his past threaten everything she'd worked for.

She reached for her phone, her fingers flying over the screen as she sent a coded message to her father's intelligence network. Money changed hands, questions were asked, and by nightfall, she had her answer.

'She's alive,' Liliana whispered to herself, staring at the grainy photo of a flower shop. 'Priscilla Owens is alive, and she's in Silverfang territory.' The venom that rose in her throat was bitter and sharp. 'And Colton knows.'

* * *

The waterfront path was quiet in the evening light, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore creating a rhythm that felt like the heartbeat of the territory. Dane and I walked side by side, the silence between us comfortable rather than strained.

'Why the sunflower?' I asked finally, the question that had been on my mind for months. 'Every day, the same flower. Always the one that's turned away from the others.'

Dane's steps faltered for just a moment. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. 'Owen Harte,' he said simply. 'The warrior I couldn't save during the raid. He was young, eager, and I gave the wrong command. He died because of me.'

I stopped walking, turning to face him fully. 'That's not on you.'

'It is.' His eyes met mine, raw and unguarded. 'Every day, I buy that sunflower. The one that's turned away from the others, like he was turned away from life. It's my reminder. My penance.'

Without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand over his heart. The steady beat beneath my palm seemed to match the rhythm of my own—the Luna's heart, beating in time with his.

A spark flashed between us, bright and electric. Not the desperate pull I'd felt with Colton, but something deeper, truer. A recognition that went beyond words.

Dane's breath caught, his eyes widening as he felt it too. 'Priscilla...' he whispered, my name a question and an answer all at once.

The mate bond between us flared to life, no longer a whisper but a song.