Every step Valkira Stratford took within the
Blood Shadow Pack mansion carried a weight of memory bitter and sweet in equal measure. The polished floors beneath her feet seemed to hum with echoes of laughter, whispers, and the faintest traces of a love that death had tried to steal. Each hallway, each corridor, each corner whispered of Dramondred Stratford, her beloved Alpha, and the life they had shared.
She paused at the grand hall, where a huge artifact a magnificent portrait of Dramondred dominated the space. The Alpha's ash-colored hair shimmered in the painting, his eyes deep with strength and warmth. Valkira allowed herself a tearful smile, fingers brushing the frame gently as though she could touch him through the canvas. My love… you are still with me, in every step, every memory.
Moving forward, she entered the bedroom they had once shared, the room that had witnessed so many of their tender moments. The air seemed softer here, filled with invisible traces of laughter, whispered promises, and shared warmth. Valkira ran a hand over the bedspread, recalling the countless nights spent entwined with Dramondred, every kiss, every embrace imprinted in her soul. She allowed herself a moment to breathe, a pause to honor what had been and to steel herself for what must come.
After settling in, she stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away years of accumulated grief and fatigue. When she emerged, she stood before the mirror, tall, commanding, and impossibly beautiful. Long, flowing black hair framed her fair, flawless skin, and her curves were both strong and graceful, a living testament to the power and resilience of the Shadow Luna.
Above her exquisite bedside drawer sat a picture of her family. Her eyes softened as they lingered on the photograph her son, Clinton, a perfect blend of her and Dramondred. His ash-colored hair mirrored his father's, and she felt a swell of gratitude and pride. He had grown into the Alpha she had always hoped for, embodying strength, wisdom, and the heart of his lineage.
Lost in the memory and love, Valkira barely noticed the loyalist who appeared at the door. "Luna… dinner is served," he said, bowing slightly.
Her gaze lifted, sharp and commanding. "And my son?" she asked, her voice calm yet carrying the subtle weight of power that made even the most loyal pause.
"He will be joining you soon, Luna," the loyalist replied respectfully, a hint of excitement in his tone.
Valkira gave a faint nod, a ghost of a smile gracing her lips. "Very well." She prepared herself, smoothing her garments and letting the poise of the Shadow Luna fill her.
Descending the grand staircase, she felt the house respond to her presence. The loyalists gave way, murmuring in awe, while her eyes swept the room, measuring, remembering, and reclaiming.
Suddenly, movement at the back caught her attention. Clinton Stratford, her son, bounded toward her with the exuberance of youth tempered by maturity, eyes wide with awe and happiness. "Mother! I missed you!" he exclaimed, voice full of unrestrained emotion.
Valkira's lips curved into a warm, genuine smile for the first time in years. She met him eye to eye, studying the man her son had become. My adorable Clin… the 21 year old boy i left is.... now a 27 year old man, the pride and love swelled in her chest, tempered by the careful restraint of the Shadow Luna.
She reached out, letting him come into her embrace, feeling the strength of his presence, the heat of his growing Alpha power, and the bond that tethered by blood, but by immense love and pride.
In that moment, all the pain, all the loss, all the sacrifices faded, leaving only the profound truth that the Blood Shadow Pack and her son were thriving. Valkira had returned stronger, wiser, and ready for all that was ahead of them, while still holding the soft, loving heart of the Luna but this time was cautious of her surroundings.