Chapter 1
Luna Christina Klein's perspective:
I prepared for my anniversary date with my husband, an occasion that always brought back memories of another anniversary—the day my son disappeared. Over the years, the love in my marriage had dwindled, overshadowed by grief. Yet, I had a pack to serve and a family to care for, and now I was just going through the motions, trying to survive.
My beautiful daughter, Cadance, entered the room, her concern written all over her face. “Are you okay, Mom? I know this time of year is hard for you, but you're not alone mom. Just remember, I’m here if you need me. I want you to try to have a good time tonight with Dad,” she said, wrapping her arms around me tightly, wrinkling my dress as I fought back tears. Since the loss of my pup, Cadence and the pack were the only reason I got out of bed anymore.
“Yes, love, I’m okay,” I exhaled, though the truth felt heavier than my words. It had been fifteen years, and while I would never fully get over it, I had learned to live with the hollow ache that Braxon's absence had left behind. It was an emptiness that consumed me like a relentless hunger for answers I feared I might never find. I knew that this void would never be filled until I either buried my son or brought him home.
I slipped on my high heels, kissed Cadance gently on the temple, and made my way to the door where my husband waited. With each step, I felt the weight of the past pressing down, but I had to try to make this night count considering my marriage was headed down the drain, I knew my pack and my daughter would suffer if it did.
“ Good evening Alpha and Luna. Klein, would you like your usual seats?" The young she Wolf behind the counter greeted, unimpressed, as she chewed her gum loudly while staring at her long neon green press on nails. " Of course” my husband agreed as the hostess led us to our usual table—a spot steeped in mostly painful memories of many anniversaries, nestled within the city’s most elegant restaurant. The ambiance wrapped around us like a soft embrace, echoing laughter and clinking glasses from years gone by.
All I could think about was The last agonizing 15 years about my baby boy, my 2nd marriage hadn't been exactly easy, but still I wouldn't have gotten through any of it without my husband and daughter, so I put on a smile and tried to enjoy myself for their sake.
A young waiter seated us offering a warm smile while handing us our menus, there was something about him that intrigued me. As he began to walk away I glanced at the young man's neck, an unsettling wave of familiarity washed over me, sending a shiver down my spine. My mouth went dry, and I fought to catch my breath, my heart racing as I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing. There it was—a small crescent shape on the back of his neck, a birthmark I had only seen once before: my son’s. I struggled to speak as I pointed at the young man "ba-ba- Braxon? I stammered. My husband looked on confused, arching an eyebrow .
The memory crashed into me like a tidal wave, vivid and haunting. I recalled that fateful day as if it were yesterday—the moment I turned away, just for a second, and he vanished from my life. Fifteen years had passed, filled with relentless torment and unanswered questions. Was he abducted? Was he dead? Or was he lost, wandering in a world that had forgotten him? Despite the darkness that surrounded those thoughts, I had never truly given up hope. I always prayed to the goddess that somewhere, a family who longed for a child had taken him in and loved him just as I would have. I wasn't a fool, I knew the statistics and I knew that it was unlikely, there were too many predators in the world with disgusting intentions.
And now, here I stood half mad, staring at the back of a stranger’s neck, yet deep within my soul, I felt an undeniable truth: this was my son. Tears began to spill down my cheeks, each drop a reflection of the years of heartache and longing. Without thinking, I sprang to my feet and wrapped my arms around his waist, overwhelmed by a surge of emotion that I couldn’t contain.
The man turned around, his eyes wide with shock. “I’m afraid I have to get back to work miss, Can you release me, please?” he said awkwardly, attempting to pry my arms from around his waist, his voice pulling me from my reverie. But I was frozen, my heart pounding as I read his name tag. °•Braxon•°. My jaw practically hit the floor, no fucking way!
What were the odds? Here I was out on my anniversary dinner, something I had done for many agonizing years now clinging to a young man who bore the exact birthmark of my missing son and shared his name—one that was anything but common. What the hell was happening? A whirlwind of questions spiraled in my mind, each one more frantic than the last. As the Luna of my pack, I knew I needed answers—urgently. This moment felt like a reckoning, a collision of past and present that demanded to be unraveled.
As I held my long-lost pup close, a wave of warmth flooded over me, finally pushing away the emptiness that had lingered for so long. “I can’t believe it’s really you! Your sister is going to be thrilled. This… this is the best anniversary ever!” I exclaimed, my voice a mix of disbelief and joy. My son said nothing and I noticed the confused stares from the people around us—they looked at me like I was a total lunatic.
I wasn’t about to let their judgment ruin this moment. So, my wolf, Eve, and I tapped into our energy, sending a ripple through the restaurant. It was my aura, the powerful presence only a Luna could wield, and I had never felt it stronger. It radiated protectiveness, love, and strength, making the patrons shy away. Sure, I might have seemed a little crazy, but I was also a force to be reckoned with, and they would know their place—especially when it came to my pup. I’d been through too much to let anyone hurt him again.
Braxon's Perspective~
I stood frozen as a strange powerful woman wrapped me in a hug so intense it stole my breath away. Confusion flooded my mind, and every instinct screamed at me to run. But I pulled back just enough to whisper the word that hung in the air between us, the word she so desperately wanted to hear. “Mom?”
Her reaction was instant—a wave of relief washed over her, and I could see the pain that had etched itself into her features beginning to melt away. It was as if I had filled a void she had been yearning to close for years. Somehow, I knew this; the connection was undeniable. I had never known my parents, having spent years drifting through countless abusive group homes and foster families in the wolf community up North. Eventually, I broke free, living as a rogue—or a lone wolf, as I liked to call it—though I hadn’t even received my wolf yet. The only fragment of my past was the haunting memory of an elderly man hurriedly leaving me at the doorstep of an orphanage.
Embracing this “I found my mom” moment felt almost surreal, but I couldn’t shake the magnetic pull I felt toward her, as if fate had destined us to be together. I needed to uncover what this all meant. If I let this chance slip away, I would be condemned to what felt like a life of solitude, drifting aimlessly through existence with no one to care if I lived or died. I wasn’t even sure if we were truly related, but something deep inside told me I had to find out.
As I glanced at the clock I was shoved back into reality, I told them I’d be off at ten before her husband pried her arms away from me. So we could connect further when I finished work. It was the only thing I could say to break her death grip on me. Yet, they both insisted I didn’t need to work anymore—just come home, they said. It felt too easy, too good to be true. After a lifetime in foster care, unloved and uncared for, I knew better; nothing came without strings attached.
Despite my reservations, I clung to my resolve. “If you give me your address, I’ll come by after my shift,” I said firmly. They exchanged reluctant glances but finally agreed. I could tell she was reluctant to let me go but I assured her I'd be there.
***
As I drove, nerves twisted in my stomach, my uniform—a crisp white button-down, bow tie, and black slacks—felt inadequate for the gravity of the moment. I needed to make a good impression, especially since I suspected I had some connection to this woman and her family.
When I arrived at their estate or pack as they would call it, awe washed over me. The grandeur of their home was breathtaking, something out of a dream. I had never set foot in such an opulent place, and a sinking feeling settled in my chest. I already knew I didn’t belong here, but I couldn’t turn back. I had to find out the truth, even if it meant stepping into a world that felt worlds apart from my own. I had always believed everything happened for a reason and god never put you in a path you weren't meant to be on.
As I approached the grand entrance, a group of guards—security, no doubt—surrounded me, their expressions stern as they requested my identification. My heart raced; I wasn’t prepared for the tidal wave of reactions that followed when they learned my name.
“Braxon? No way! We all thought you were dead!” one of them exclaimed, disbelief etched across his face. But I noticed the two other big burly men behind them looking at each other, no doubt questioning the situation like they didn't believe it or they knew something.
Just then, an older man with a grizzled beard emerged from an office near the gates, his eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and warmth.
“It’s good to have you back, kiddo. Your mama has been searching for you for 15 long years,” he chuckled with a thick southern accent, pulling me into a side hug that felt both comforting and surreal
“So, where'd you get off too, kid?” he questioned, his voice low and gravelly. Before I could respond, he continued, “Luna was going out her mind looking for ya, never gave up either; she always knew you were alive and kickin. She always insisted you are far too strong to die off.”
“Oh, by the way, the name’s Jack. I’m head of pack security and warriors here,” he said, extending his calloused hand.
“Braxon Myers,” I mumbled, shaking his hand firmly.
“Meyers, eh?” he replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, it was the name of the foster parents who adopted me a few years back, it's my legal name, I have to use it” I mumbled, shuffling my feet and looking down. The name brought nothing but bad memories, and I couldn’t shake the unease.
“And where are they now?”
“I ran away,” I admitted. “They were human, you see. They tried to beat the wolf out of me, and since I hadn’t had my first shift yet, it took months for my broken bones and bruises to heal. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I've never been in a pack or even met an Alpha or anyone ranked for that matter.”
“I’m sorry, kid. It's sad to hear, a young wolf, packless and raised by vicious humans is a bad combination. Not everyone should have pups, let alone raise em,” Jack said, his tone shifting to one of sympathy. “You're safe now, you don’t have to worry anymore. Me and my warriors are here for your protection. You’re the son of an alpha, and once you start training and receive your wolf, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.” He sighed, giving my back a reassuring pat.
“So you pretty much just went from one abusive human to the next, then?”
“Yeah,” I replied quietly.
“I know plenty about that. Luna’s got a big heart. Since you went missing, she started a program to take kids off the street and keep them from becoming rogues and in doing so we were able to get rid of most of the rogue population which means the pack is safer so it's a win-win for us. Most of the families here are foster parents the pack has adopted many pups, taking them out of abusive homes and giving them a better life. It’s all she could do to keep from going mad over you,” Jack added as he escorted me to the front door of the enormous mansion.
As he led me toward what I could only describe as my supposed parents’ mansion, my mind raced with questions. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, a symbol of everything I had longed for yet never thought I’d claim as my own. Each step felt monumental, a bridge between my past and an uncertain future. Despite the warmth of the welcome, a flicker of doubt nagged at me. Could this really be my home? Would I finally find the belonging I had yearned for all those years? Or will I fuck this up just like everything else?
