Chapter 4
Joe said no one saw me for few days.
Someone said I was lost.
Someone even said I was dead.
But Holden said nothing, no finding, no searching.
Talia returned draped in elegance and timing.
Six years gone. But now, she strolled back into Silverclaw pack as if the tragedy of Luna Claire was merely the prelude to her reentrance.
“I came to offer my condolences,” she said softly, voice dipped in sugar. “I heard about Claire.”
Holden didn’t respond.
He was reading a report—thin but haunting. Claire had been unreachable for days. No calls. No messages. The mate bond between them was faint, fragmented.
But not severed.
Not yet.
“She’s not gone,” Holden muttered to himself. “She wouldn’t just… leave.”
Joe’s face tensed beside him. “The door to her quarters was damaged. No signs of activity inside. You feel the bond fading. That’s not nothing.”
“It’s stress,” Holden snapped. “She’s hiding. Angry. She’ll call.”
But she didn’t.
And the silence rang louder.
Talia showed up everywhere.
With soup. With silent tears. With words too soft to fight.
“Grief clouds the bond,” she told Holden on the Pack balcony. “Sometimes we lose it before we even know someone’s gone.”
Holden said nothing.
She took it as invitation.
“You don’t need to suffer alone,” she added, letting her hand rest on his. “Maybe the Moon took her… so you could finally choose someone who stays.”
Holden didn’t move.
Didn’t pull away either.
Joe pressed harder the next morning.
“She’s still not back. The security Omega says no one’s been near her quarters. What if something happened?”
Holden closed his eyes, pain pulsing behind them.
“She’d fight. Claire wouldn’t just vanish.”
“And yet she has,” Joe snapped. “And Talia’s wrapped herself around your grief like a snake. You don’t see it?”
“I don’t need your opinion, Beta.”
Joe looked like he wanted to say more. But then Talia entered the room, casually interrupting with a tray of moon-root tea and the scent of lavender.
Holden accepted it.
Joe walked out.
That night, Holden stood in front of Claire’s door.
His fingers touched the handle. Cold. Familiar.
And then—
“Talia’s looking for you,” an Omega said from down the hall. “She said you’ve skipped three meals.”
Holden hesitated.
And turned away.
Silver plains. The veil of the Hunting Grounds.
Claire’s spirit drifted—tethered, but dimming.
“Why didn’t he open the door?” she whispered. “Why did he walk away?”
A soft voice answered her, ancient and familiar.
Lunara, the Moon Goddess.
“Because he fears the truth,” Lunara said. “And fear is louder than love.”
Claire’s voice cracked. “He believes her. He lets Talia hold his hand.”
“The bond was yours,” Lunara replied. “But a bond can flicker when one side looks away.”
Claire clutched her ribs where silver had burned. “I called to him. Screamed through the bond.”
“And he turned his back,” Lunara said simply. “He will pay for that. In time.”
“I don’t want revenge,” Claire murmured. “I wanted him to choose me. To fight for me.”
“Then hold on, daughter of moonlight. For soon, your path will reopen.”
Claire’s voice grew quiet.
“But when it does… I will never let him near me again.”
