BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 251: A COMMITTED STAND

Chapter 251: A COMMITTED STAND

{"If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything."}

We moved to the Kayne home as Frery pushed open the heavy oak door and gestured me inside with a smile that undid me more than any battle ever had.

"Come on, Alpha," he said teasingly. "You’ve earned a drink."

Inside, the hearth was already lit, casting golden flickers across the wood-beamed ceiling and polished floors. A long table had been set with food, simple, rich, and made with love: roasted root vegetables, sweet, braised meats, Mira spiced bread, and honeyed cider. The scent alone nearly made me forget every wound I had taken in the last few weeks.

Qadira was in the corner with Rolan, showing him an old family mural painted across the stone wall. He listened in that quiet way, like every word she spoke was a map to something sacred.

Dante and Rou were already seated at the table, trading jabs and stealing bites before anyone else sat down. Even Sierra, usually composed and distant, had let her hair down literally and was sipping her drink with the air of someone who had been holding her breath for far too long.

I stepped beside Frery and bumped his shoulder gently with mine.

"You, okay?"

His smile turned soft. "More than okay." He leaned into me slightly. "I think this is what peace feels like."

We sat. For once, there were no battle plans on the table. No enchanted maps or urgent missives. Just food. Laughter. Stories.

Dante told a horrible joke about a cursed goat. Rou added a worse one about a witch and a swamp toad. Qadira rolled her eyes. Rolan laughed in a low, rough sound that even surprised him.

I looked around the table and I caught Frery’s gaze again across the table.

He lifted his cup. "To what’s next," he said quietly.

I met his eyes. "To home." We drank. And for the first time in what felt like years, the night held no fear.

The laughter had mellowed into soft conversation. The fire burned low, casting lazy amber light over half-finished plates and half-drunk mugs. I had not realized how long we had all been sitting there—how rare it was to simply be without urgency pacing at the door.

Then the knock came.

Frery stood, brushing breadcrumbs from his tunic, and opened the door with a curious glance.

Standing just beyond the threshold were Aurora Jade and Noorani guards. No formality. Just two of the most powerful women in the realm, cloaked in twilight and calm.

"Aurora," Frery said in surprise, stepping aside. "Come in. Please."

"Didn’t want to miss the celebration," she said with a quiet smile, stepping inside. "Even leaders deserve a night to breathe."

Neera followed with a nod of greeting, her arm brushing lightly against Aurora’s. "Besides, we brought dessert."

She held up a cloth-wrapped parcel, and Rou let out an audible groan of delight. "Please tell me that’s Mira lemon cake."

"It is," Aurora said, amused. "Still warm."

The Kayne home filled again with warmth, not just from the fire, but from something deeper. Belonging. Sierra rose to greet them both with a nod that felt more like a truce than a gesture.

Everyone settled in again, cozier now, the space a little fuller, the night a little sweeter.

Aurora waited until we were all served before she spoke again.

Her eyes found mine.

"Alpha Tor."

My spine straightened slightly. "Yes?"

"I’ve sent word to the Bay Shifter Pack," she said. "To your people."

I blinked. "What did you tell them?"

"That their Alpha is alive," she said simply. "That he fought at the edge of Blood Stone Mountain. He stood beside Paradise and helped end an evil that threatened the realm. And—" Her gaze softened. "—that he’s coming home."

The words hit deeper than I expected. Like something had finally loosened inside my chest—a chain I had not known I had been dragging. I had not thought about the Bay in days, but now, the image returned: the cliffs, the ocean mist, the howl of the wind through pine.

And the people, my people. "They’ll want to see you," Aurora added gently. "Not just as their Alpha. But as the man you have become."

I nodded slowly. "I will go. After we have rested. After... this."

My eyes drifted to Frery, whose fingers had quietly found mine beneath the table.

Aurora smiled. "Of course. You leave when you are ready. But know this, Tor of the Bay—" She raised her mug slightly. "Paradise is no longer your stranger. You are tied to us now. Through bond. Through blood. Through fire."

"And lemon cake," Nessa added lightly, slicing into the dessert.

Laughter rippled around the table again, and the heaviness in my chest lifted just enough to let joy back in. I looked around at the people who had fought beside me, bled beside me. And I realized... I was not just going home, I already was. The house had grown quiet. Outside, the wind whispered through the Silverwood trees, and the last embers in the hearth glowed like coals nestled in ash. Most of the others had gone to rest. Even Rou had fallen asleep in a chair, arms crossed, boots kicked off, snoring lightly.

Frery and I lingered on the back veranda, the night cool on our skin. The scent of flowering dusk-leaf drifted through the air. Stars stretched in vast silence above us, infinite and undemanding.

Then I heard her footsteps. Graceful. Measured. Sierra. She stepped through the doorway with the soundless elegance of someone who knew the land listened when she moved. She joined us without a word at first, gaze turning toward the horizon where the dark outlines of the mountains still loomed faint and distant.

"Tor," she said softly, eyes never leaving the sky.

"Yes, Lady Sierra?" I answered, straightening slightly out of instinct, though her voice carried no edge.

She turned to look at me. "I wanted to thank you."

That... I had not expected it. "I’ve never needed thanks," I said carefully.

"I know," she replied. "That is why it means more. You did not just stand by my son in war. You loved him through fire, through fear, through every whisper of doubt that tried to break him."

Her voice held steel beneath its softness. "Many would have run. You did not."

Freyr shifted beside me but said nothing, his fingers brushing mine under the edge of the bench.

Sierra stepped closer now, her Mira markings faintly glowing in the silver light.

"You carry a beast in your blood, Alpha. One that could have devoured him. But it did not." She looked directly at me. "You chose to protect him. That matters to a mother."

I swallowed. "He protects me, too."

A quiet smile curved her mouth. "I know."

Then she turned to Freyr, lifting a hand to gently touch his cheek. "My sweet child," she murmured. "You have walked through the storm. Now walk in peace."

Frery’s gaze shimmered, but he did not look away. "I intend to," he said.

She dropped her hand, waiting. And that is when he said it. "We’re going to build a home on Hanka Island."

Sierra blinked. "Hanka?"

Frery nodded. "It’s quiet and in between Bay Shifter and Paradise Coven."

"And it is where we first met, "I added.

Sierra was silent for a long moment. Then she exhaled, slow and deep. "I think the world needs more beginnings like that."

She stepped back, studying us one last time like she was committing this version of us to memory.

Then: "Go build your peace. And if ever you need a place to return to... my door will never be closed."

And just like that, she turned and disappeared into the house again, her presence fading like smoke but her blessing lingering like a whispered promise. I looked at Freyr. He looked at me. And for the first time in all this madness, the future did not feel like a storm. It felt like sunlight on the new earth.

The world had finally gone still, and Freyr lay tucked against my chest, his breath soft and even against my skin, one leg tangled over mine, his arm draped across my stomach like it belonged therebecause it did. Because he did. The bed at the Kayne home was smaller than what we were used to at camp or the citadel, but neither of us cared. We could have curled up on a stone floor and still found this kind of warmth. His fingers traced idle shapes along my ribs beneath the blanket circles, lines, something half-lost between thought and instinct.

"You’re awake," I murmured, voice low.

"Couldn’t sleep," he whispered back, his lips brushing my chest with the words. "You’re too warm."

"You always said you liked that," I teased, running a hand through the wild fall of silver-blond hair at the back of his head.

"I do," he said, looking up at me with those fierce, clear eyes. "But now I don’t have to like it just because we might die tomorrow."

I smiled, slowly and quietly. "No more battles."

I leaned in and kissed him with just a gentle press of lips against his. No rush. No hunger. Just the truth.

When I pulled back, he sighed and tucked himself closer. "I don’t think I ever believed this part was coming," he admitted softly. "Not really."

"Me neither."

"And yet here we are," he said.

"In bed," I said.

"Together," he added, a small grin tugging at his mouth.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him. "Where we belong."

He was silent for a moment, face pressed to the curve of my neck. Then, "Are you ready to leave tomorrow? I did not hesitate.

"With you? I would leave the entire world behind." Freyr made a soft noise, one I had learned to love, a mix between a laugh and a breath held too long. He curled into me again like he was trying to memorize the shape of our peace.