Alpha King Chases Abandoned Luna

The Alpha King is unavailable 135

The sudden ring of her phone broke the silence. Olivia turned away from the window and reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. She glanced at the screen before answering.

"Hello?” Her voice was soft, controlled despite the emotional turmoil I knew was raging inside her.

I watched as her expression shifted, a flicker of something-pain? hope?-crossing her features.

"Yes, Clara. I understand. I'll come right away," she said, her voice catching slightly. "Thank you for calling."

She ended the call and stared at her phone for a moment, her knuckles white from gripping it too tightly.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle.

"That was Clara Wilkins from the Howling Clay Pottery Studio," Olivia explained, her emerald eyes meeting mine briefly. "She said Lily's... Lily's mug is ready for collection."

I noticed how her voice trembled when she mentioned her daughter's name. The raw grief was

still so fresh.

"Would you like me to take you there?" I offered, already signaling to Thomas Griffin to change

our route.

Olivia nodded, her wolf's scent shifting with a complex mixture of emotions-grief, longing, and something like determination.

"Yes, please," she whispered. "I'd like to go now."

(Olivia's POV)

The bell above the door of Howling Clay Pottery Studio chimed softly as we entered. The

familiar scent of clay and glazes filled my nostrils, bringing with it a flood of memories-Lily's

small hands covered in clay, her tongue poking out in concentration as she worked.

Clara Wilkins looked up from behind the counter, her kind face lighting up with recognition.

she-wolf had always had a special way with the pups who came to her

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you could come quickly," she said, wiping her hands on her apron

know. Of course she didn't—I

to bring myself to tell this

reached beneath the counter. "Two whole months she worked on this mug. Most pups her age give up after one session,

carefully unwrapped a package, removing layers of protective tissue paper. "She wanted it to be perfect for

slightly lopsided, clearly made by a child's inexperienced hands.

side-three stick figures holding hands. A family of three.

blurred with tears. Lily had spent two months making this for Ethan,

with Victoria and Emma

to him," Clara said, smiling at the memory. "Said her daddy would use it every morning

my shoulder, steadying

taking such good care of it,"

precious mug.

Clara and guided me toward

called after us.

on Shadow Creek Artisan Street, the cool evening air hit my face,

burning pain in my chest. I clutched

weak to support

spent two months making this for him," I

he never

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finally broke free. I

even his-while our daughter, his flesh and

before drawing me into his arms. His embrace was warm, protective, offering

against my hair. "Your daughter

(Ethan's POV)