Luke had denied knowing the men when questioned, claiming they had fled, which wasn’t entirely untrue. He had sent them home, their mission complete, with extra payment to cover the loss of one of their own—a son, a brother. He hadn’t anticipated Bella fighting so fiercely, let alone killing one of them in her desperate attempt to escape. But he should have known better. She was a warrior’s daughter, trained alongside him and his elite unit. Bella had always been able to handle herself.
What he hadn’t known—what none of them had known—was that she was fighting for more than her freedom. She was fighting to return to her three children, whom he had unknowingly separated her from. Realizing this now, it all made sense: her ferocity, her desperation, her refusal to return.
The Feds had presented him with damning evidence—video footage of her killing one of his men, photos of her injuries taken after she’d escaped and sought help. The images were seared into his mind. Stripped to her underwear, her right hip was bruised and torn, her chest a canvas of dark bruises and scratches. They showed how she’d been thrown from a moving van, her hands bound behind her, unable to protect herself from the impact.
The sight of her wounds had enraged Maddis, his wolf. Keeping his growls and snarls suppressed during the interrogation had been almost impossible, especially with the way the officers framed their accusations. Every word painted him as a monster, as if he had personally inflicted her injuries with intent and malice.
He hated the way they looked at him, judged him, and he hated even more that, on some level, he deserved it.
“Tyler, you’re incredible. I couldn’t ask for a better wolf,” Bella reassured her, gratitude spilling into the mental link they shared. Tyler huffed softly in response, a mix of pride and quiet irritation at the nostalgic ache that clung to them both.
Tyler truly was remarkable. Her speed was unmatched by nearly all, with only two exceptions: the current Alpha, Luke, and the former one. Even as a pup, Tyler had drawn the admiration of the entire pack. Her pale silver fur, so light it often appeared white under the moonlight, made her look almost ethereal. Delicate gray accents on her snout and paws only added to her beauty.
Bella’s smile grew wistful as she recalled her first run under the full moon with the pack. Her mother had been so proud, claiming Bella looked like the moon itself, her radiant fur glowing like a celestial being as she ran beside Tyler. Those memories were some of her most cherished, untouched by the bitterness of the present.
Winter nights had been their playground. Tyler’s pale fur provided perfect camouflage in the snow, and Bella had loved toying with the boys during their games. She would bury herself in a snowdrift, mind-link a teasing, “You’ll never find me!” and wait for the chase to begin.
The thrill was unmatched, especially when Maddis, Alpha Luke’s wolf, joined in. Maddis had a natural love for the hunt, his speed and precision a testament to his Alpha genes. Luke, even then, had been a force to be reckoned with. But those were simpler times, free of the weight and scars of adulthood.
Bella’s smirk returned as she remembered besting Benzy and his wolf, Apollo, in a race. Beta or not, he never caught me, she thought with satisfaction. The boys’ wolves would leap into action, determined to prove her wrong, but Bella and Tyler rarely lost. Not because they couldn’t be outmatched—they were faster—but because the boys knew how to strategize. They would split up, corner her, and, when all else failed, call for backup. Maddis would charge in, swift and unrelenting, and Luke would take her down with a triumphant grin.
It had all been in good fun. Back then, they were just kids. The world had felt safe, and the pack had been her family.
Bella sighed, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough of a trip down memory lane.”
“Agreed,” Tyler grumbled, though her tone carried a hint of sadness. The nostalgia was painful, especially now. Luke was no longer the playful boy she remembered but an angry, hateful man—at least toward her. His Beta still stood by him, a clear sign of Luke’s continued respect and authority within the pack. Yet, when it came to Bella, his rage burned undiminished by time.
She didn’t understand it. All she had done was leave three tiny claw marks on Luna Mia’s face—a wound that had healed without leaving a single mark. In contrast, her punishment had been severe, her wounds deeper than she could have imagined. Despite the passage of years, Luke’s fury still burned as though their two decades of friendship had never existed.
“Don’t go there,” Tyler whined softly, sensing the ache in Bella’s chest. The past hurt her too.
Luke, meanwhile, was consumed with finding her. For seven days, his men had searched tirelessly, watching her apartment and scouring the human world for any sign of her. She hadn’t returned, and it didn’t take much to guess why. Someone had taken her somewhere beyond his reach, likely Ben Billy, the one person who would protect her.
He couldn’t blame her for running. He had ordered her to leave the pack, casting her into the human world with nowhere else to go. It was no surprise she had built a life for herself there.
The morning after her escape, the Feds came for him. He hadn’t resisted. She had run straight into their arms, bloodied and battered, her injuries a damning testament to his orders. He had hoped to see her again, thinking that if they were close enough, Tyler would sense Maddis, her wolf recognizing her Mate. It could have been the solution to everything.
But she hadn’t been near him. She was at the hospital, receiving treatment. In the human world, her wounds couldn’t heal overnight without raising suspicion. Bella was smart, ensuring her injuries were documented—evidence that only deepened the charges against him.
Kidnapping and causing grievous bodily harm were severe enough, but taking her across state lines elevated it to a federal case. Though he hadn’t touched her, the men he’d sent to retrieve her had injured her so badly that the blame fell squarely on him. They had acted on his orders, after all.
