Chapter 31
Alpha Floyd’s private jet touched down on the Ashenclaw Pack’s airstrip just past midday.
The heat from the summer sun shimmered across the tarmac, blinding and relentless. As the ramp descended, two pack guards carefully escorted his children down the steps, shielding
them from the harsh light.
“Daddy…” Yolanda tilted her head up, her voice small but trembling with hope. “Are we really going to see Mommy?”
“We are,” Alpha Floyd replied, adjusting the cuffs of his dark suit. His voice was calm,
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steady. “When Mommy sees you both, she’ll be
overjoyed.”
Just then, Beta Elmer jogged up, sweat on his brow and a thick manila file in hand. “Alpha, we confirmed Luna Jillian’s location. She’s in the eastern district of the city, at a place called Mud Fun–some kind of pottery studio. And… she’s
not alone.”
Inside the file was a candid photograph.
Jillian knelt beside a little girl, wiping a smear of clay from her cheek with gentle hands. A man stood nearby–tall, broad–shouldered, with glasses and a smile that lingered far too long on Jillian’s face. Sunlight poured through the studio windows, casting a soft golden glow over the three of them. They looked… warm.
Like a family.
Alpha Floyd’s jaw clenched. His fingers.
tightened around the photo, crumpling its edge without realizing. He knew that look in the
man’s eyes. Tender. Protective.
“Get the car ready,” he said coldly. “We’re leaving. Now.”
The drive was hushed, almost unnaturally still.
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Leon and Yolanda pressed their faces to the window, wide–eyed at the unfamiliar cityscape. Their hands fidgeted nervously with their clothes–outfits Jillian had picked out for them last year. Too small now, tight at the sleeves and cuffs, but they’d insisted on wearing them
anyway.
“Daddy?” Leon spoke in a hushed tone, barely above a whisper. “Do you… do you think Mommy will forgive us?”
Alpha Floyd didn’t answer right away. His mind
flashed back to the look on Jillian’s face the
day she was pushed down the stairs, and to her spine straight as steel when she walked away from them all.
“She will,” he said finally, his voice more prayer than certainty. “She loves you both more than anything. That hasn’t changed.”
The car pulled up in front of the pottery studio -Mud Fun, the sign read in bubbly letters. Behind the wide glass windows, he saw her.
Jillian.
She wore a plain white shirt and fitted jeans, her hair tied in a loose ponytail. No makeup, no
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jewelry–just sunlight catching in the strands of her hair, her face glowing as she shaped a lump of clay on the wheel.
He hadn’t seen her like this in years. Unburdened. Happy.
Then the little girl–Cecilia–giggled and smeared a streak of mud across Jillian’s cheek.
Jillian gasped, then laughed, retaliating with a playful swipe of her own. Her smile was pure joy. The kind of joy that had never existed inside the Feng household.
“Mommy!” Yolanda suddenly broke free from the guard’s hold and bolted toward the studio.
entrance.
“Yolanda ” Floyd started to stop her but was already chasing after her as she pushed the door open.
A soft chime rang as the door swung wide.
Jillian looked up. Her hands froze mid–motion. The smile faded from her lips the second her gaze landed on her daughter–then shifted to Leon, and finally to the man standing behind.
them.
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Alpha Floyd.
“Yolanda…?” Her voice cracked.
5 Points
Cecilia clutched Jillian’s apron and backed away warily, sensing something unfamiliar. A quiet growl rose from Alpha George, the tall man with glasses, who immediately stepped forward and placed himself protectively in front
of them.
Leon rushed to Jillian’s side, throwing his arms
around her legs.
“Mommy, we missed you so much!” His voice broke with tears. “Were you with them this
whole time? Is it… is it because of them that you left us?”
He glared at Cecilia, his little fists clenched. The tension in the air thickened, almost crackling. Cecilia whimpered and buried her face in
Jillian’s shirt.
Jillian froze, hands hovering in the air, unsure whether to pull her children in–or push them. away. Her smile was gone now. Her gaze turned guarded, cold.
“What are you doing here?” she asked,. “How
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Alpha Floyd stepped forward, his presence commanding. His eyes flicked to Alpha George briefly before locking onto Jillian.
“Jillian,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I
came to bring you home.”
“Don’t,” she cut him off sharply. “Don’t call me
that.”
Floyd inhaled deeply. “You’ve punished us enough. The children know they were wrong. Monica is gone. It’s just us now. Come back.
Please.”
The studio fell silent. Other guests had gone still, awkwardly pretending not to eavesdrop,
but the tension in the room was thick..
“Home?” Jillian let out a bitter laugh. “What home, Floyd? The one where I was invisible?
Unheard? Unloved?”
“Mommy, please,” Yolanda whispered, pulling at Jillian’s hand. “We won’t make you mad again. We promise.”
“Yes,” Leon chimed in quickly, his voice.
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cracking. “We sent Monica Auntie away! Daddy said there’s only you now!”
Something in Jillian’s expression wavered.
She knelt down, so she could look them in the
eyes–her pups, her blood. Her voice trembled,
but it was firm.
“I’m not going back,” she said gently. “Because sometimes… an apology isn’t enough. Some things can’t be undone.”
“Why?” Yolanda’s tears spilled over, her small hands gripping Jillian’s tightly. “Don’t you love us anymore?”
The question was like a blade–dull but deep.
Jillian flinched, her chest rising and falling with the weight of it. Her wolf stirred uneasily inside her, caught between longing and pain. She didn’t speak right away, because her voice. would betray her. Because if she opened her mouth now, the ache in her heart might come pouring out.
