Alpha's Lost Luna Returns With His Twins

Kash:

"Kash! I thought you’d want to rest a little. Do you think it was the right decision to come here instead of going home to rest?" my Royal Beta, Walkin, asked, watching me with nothing but concern in his eyes.

He knew exactly why I had come here to the office instead of going home.

"It’s fine. I really wanted to focus on this file. It caught my eye," I said as I stared at the folder in my hand. But I had been staring at it for too long.

The truth was that I was thinking about the mate who had left me. I searched for her for a year, unable to sleep, eat, or do much of anything else. I even put my relationship with Lara on hold.

But she didn’t suspect much because of the war her own pack was dealing with at the time. That same war gave me plenty of excuses to throw at those who asked why I was so lost.

The West had openly threatened the South over the Blue River water. And since I was going to marry Lara, I took it upon myself to side with the South and go to war against the West.

Well, we finally returned two hours ago, after years of fighting, with a victory.

"Kash, you took over the West. You’re marrying Lara, you’re already engaged to her, and you’re going to be the Alpha King of the North, South, and West. Do you know how big of an accomplishment that is? You deserve rest too," Walkin reminded me with a sly smile.

I knew it was a great accomplishment, and so did Walkin. He had stayed with me through thick and thin, long before I was crowned Alpha King, back when my father was alive and I was just a boy.

"I know, but this deal..." I muttered, pointing my finger at it.

It was a small company, and they were selling perfumes. But their perfumes had an ingredient that helped werewolves with their traumas—more specifically, helping the wolves within them stay healthy and able to transition even at an older age.

"Tell me more about it, Walkin," I said as I pushed the file back to him. I knew he had prepared a whole assignment for this particular small company.

"So, according to them, these scents heal the long-lost trauma of wolves. As you know, werewolves used to transition until the age of ninety or even a hundred, but somehow the age has now decreased to eighty-five, and it’s dropping rapidly. I’m afraid if it keeps happening, werewolves might start losing their wolves as early as fifty," Walkin explained, making me nod at the potential this company had.

"Where did this company come from?" I asked him. It was just a conversation we were having as we already knew all these things. It was just the kind of thing we always did, sat together and asked each other out loud, even when we’d answered them before.

"It’s a rogue company," Walkin replied.

"This is the first time a rogue has worked this hard to build a company instead of just living in the woods or stealing from pack members," Walkin added, and I nodded.

Rogues hadn’t been able to do much for years. Once they were kicked out of packs, they usually went into hiding in the woods, surviving as individuals. So the fact that a rogue company had come up with such a good idea made me proud of those who wanted to make things right for themselves after being cast out.

"Anyway, is the contract ready?" I asked him, and Walkin nodded.

I really wanted to work with this company. If we could delay the age decline and stay young much longer, it would be an incredible accomplishment. And I wanted us to be the first one to make it happen. I told him to take as much of the company as possible so others wouldn’t get their hands on it.

"The owner of the company is arriving in an hour. We’ll discuss with her and sign the contract today," Walkin confirmed. I stood up, checking the contracts and other files before her arrival.

When she arrived, I noticed she was probably in her late forties, though she claimed to be in her late fifties. She looked very young for her age, so I guessed her claims were true.

The woman was dressed neatly. She told me they had built a very small company on the rogue land. Since they were only rogues, they hadn’t been able to make a proper building. But now they didn’t have to.

I told her that I wanted shares, but I also wanted them to come and work in my company—prepare perfumes in my presence, in my laboratory. Thankfully, she agreed. After everything was decided, we signed the papers.

"Mrs. Clarissa, I welcome you to my pack," I said, holding out my hand.

She happily accepted the handshake, but then shook her head.

"Actually, my daughter will be taking care of most of the work," she added. I exchanged a look with Walkin, and Lady Clarissa noticed too.

"Oh, please. It’s fine. She’s my everything, and she’s very intelligent. You’ll love her ideas and the plans she has for the company," she explained, making me curious.

A rogue girl, so ambitious, it was strange. Just a mother and daughter, not only surviving as rogues but building a company. That alone was impressive.

"And when can I meet your daughter?" I asked, slipping my hands into my pocket, eager to get to work.

"Oh, she just arrived. She was late because of a personal commitment, but there she is." Lady Clarissa smiled as she looked past me, pointing toward her daughter.

I fixed my coat and turned around to welcome her. But what I saw shook the world beneath me. She stood tall, confident, and even prettier than I remembered. All I could do was let out her name in a hopeless murmur.

"Iris?"