Chapidy 25
Chapter 25
Every day, Mona spent her time in the sunlit art room, painting until her arms ached. When she grew tired, she would gaze out the tall windows, watching the sprawling lands of the Pack bathed in golden light.
The household was bustling with preparations. Maids frequently knocked on her door, calling her away for wedding fittings, finalizing the ceremony’s theme, or reviewing the guest list.
Her days were a whirlwind of activity.
But evenings were her favorite. Because Kieran would return home.
Since that night, when she finally spoke her love aloud, Kieran had been visibly happier.
His entire presence softened. He was no longer just the ruthless Alpha of Blackthorn–he
was her mate, her Kieran.
And every day, like clockwork, he would bring her a small gift.
“Today’s meeting was unbearable, so I folded you a rose from my notes.”
“I passed by a boutique and saw this necklace in the window. The moment I laid eyes on it, I knew it belonged to you.”
“This was the first ray of sunlight I saw this morning. It was too beautiful not to share with
you.”
Each time, Mona found herself smiling before she could stop it.
So when the evening knock came at her door, her first thought was that Kieran had come
home early.
Excited, she hurried to open the door–only to be met by a stranger.
Aman she had never seen before.
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“You are…?” she asked, her voice guarded.
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The man standing before her was tall, broad–shouldered, with sharp yet weary features. He
looked like someone who had once been unshakable but had been weathered down by time, by loss.
Alaric. He studied her face, and for some reason, he frowned. His wolf stirred
uncomfortably. He shouldn’t be a stranger to her.
Yet, she looked at him with complete unfamiliarity.
But he kept his composure, offering a polite smile. “My name is Alaric,” he said smoothly.
Mona frowned slightly, the name meant nothing to her. “And why are you here?”
Without waiting for permission, Alaric stepped into the studio, his sharp gaze scanning the
room.
“The music for your wedding,” he said, his tone casual. “Kieran has entrusted my company with the arrangements. I came to consult with the bride herself.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie.
The Silvermoon Pack had indeed contracted one of the Blackthorn Pack’s media branches
to handle the music.
But it was a minor deal, not something that would normally require Alpha Alaric himself to personally oversee.
Still, the excuse was good enough.
Though irritated by his intrusion, Mona didn’t argue.
“I’d like the music to be lighthearted and warm,” she replied. “Honestly, I don’t know much about these things. You’d probably have a better conversation with Kieran.”
Kieran. The way she said his name so naturally, with such warmth, made Alaric’s wolf bristle.
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Chaply 25
The familiarity, the claim in her voice–it was unbearable. A heavy, suffocating weight
settled in his chest. He turned his head away, trying to steady himself, and that’s when he
Saw it.
The paintings. They covered the room, some unfinished, some in full color. His breath caught in his throat.
The brushstrokes. The color palette. The delicate, deliberate way each piece was composed.
He had seen these before.
His gaze locked onto a particular painting–a portrait of a man. His heartbeat thundered in
his ears.
His feet moved before his mind could catch up, drawing him closer.
“You painted these?” he asked.
Mona nodded, though she could sense the odd shift in his tone. “Yes. What’s wrong?”
Alaric didn’t answer. His focus was fixed, his fingers tracing the lower left corner of the
canvas.
A small circle.
His vision blurred for a second, memories crashing over him.
She used to do this. The woman he had once held in his arms, the woman who had once been his, would always sign her paintings with a simple, unassuming circle.
He had asked her why once.
“Because I’m Mina. And Mina means ‘moon.“”
“I don’t like signing my full name, so I use a moon instead.”
His throat went dry. His hands trembled.
What is this?” he managed to ask, pointing to the small mark on the painting.
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Chapter 25
Mona followed his gaze, momentarily confused.
في
Oh, that? That’s my signature,” she explained, unfazed.
Her tone was casual, lighthearted, completely unaware of the way Alaric’s world was shattering around him.
“I always sign my work that way,” she continued. “My name is Mona, and the circle represents the full moon. I don’t like using my full name, so that’s my personal signature.”
The exact same reason. Word for word.
Alaric felt like he had been punched in the gut. The room tilted. His wolf howled in his
chest.
This is her.
But–no. That was impossible.
And then–his gaze dropped to her hands.A streak of paint across her left index finger.
Alaric staggered back.
“You… you paint with your left hand?” His voice barely came out.
Mona blinked, startled by the intensity of his
