My Possessive Alpha Twins For Mate Chapter 323

Dahlia’s POV

Sorcha and Blue had been running for hours, darting through the trees, chasing after squirrels and stirring up leaves as they reconnected in that instinctual, wordless way only wolves could. My aunt and I, meanwhile, were just along for the ride—silent observers within.

Every so often, Sorcha would slow her pace and nudge me to try channeling our magic together with Blue. She encouraged small, shared goals—nothing dramatic. Just little things like coaxing water from a stream for a drink, shifting a stone with our mind, or lighting dry twigs with a spark of will. Her expectations were modest.

Despite our efforts, the only real result was a splashy mishap. We concentrated so hard on lifting water from the stream that we lost our footing, tumbling in and soaking ourselves—and Sorcha—in the process. But she never scolded or lost her patience. And though my aunt remained silent throughout, letting Sorcha guide things, I could feel her quiet amusement thrumming beneath the surface.

“Enough for today, little one,” Sorcha’s voice drifted into my mind as we lay sprawled in a clearing, sunlight warming our damp clothes.

“But I didn’t accomplish anything,” I grumbled, frustration curling in my chest.

“You did more than you think,” she replied gently, and I shot her the mental equivalent of a raised brow, which made her laugh.

“Each time you failed, I felt your frustration, even anger. And yet, you didn’t summon a storm or burn down the woods. You didn’t lose control. That’s progress. Why do you think that is?”

Her question caught me completely off guard. I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t had a magical outburst—not until she pointed it out. I paused, trying to come up with an explanation, but it was Blue who spoke first.

“We were focused on the magic,” she said. “Not our emotions. Maybe we couldn’t command it fully, but at least it couldn’t act on its own while we were telling it what to do.”

“Well said, little one.” Sorcha’s approval was warm. “Now let’s go home.”

She trotted off, ending the lesson, and Blue and I followed behind—each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts.

Blue radiated a quiet pride, mixed with a renewed excitement to understand this strange power we shared. But beneath that, I felt the ache of longing—for our mates. That old pain still sat fresh and sharp in both our hearts. Part of me wanted to shut her out, wall off her pain so I didn’t have to feel it on top of my own. But I resisted. She needed me. And I refused to leave her alone again.

As we neared the house, I felt myself bracing—preparing for what I had to do. In a thoughtful gesture, my aunt had given me a replacement phone after realizing I’d left mine behind. She’d hoped I’d use it to contact my father, to let him know I was safe. But I hadn’t been able to face that yet—not when it would mean admitting my failure as a mate.

Still, after being gone for nearly a week, guilt was creeping in stronger than my desire to hide. He must be worried sick.

I was filthy from the day in the woods—muddy, sweaty, in dire need of a shower—but when I stepped into my bedroom and spotted the phone waiting on the dresser, I couldn’t put it off any longer. With a deep breath, I picked it up and dialed before I lost my nerve.

“Hello?” My father’s deep voice answered, edged with tension.

“Daddy,” I whispered—and then the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, choking me.

“Dahlia? Thank the Goddess!” His voice rose, cracking with panic. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Daddy. But I’m not ready to say where I am,” I said, trying to steady myself, my tone firm.

“What? No! Do you know what we’ve been through? Isolde’s here every day. Silas too. They’re both beside themselves. And don’t even get me started on your mates. Every pack in the country is looking for you!”

“They do care,” Blue said, hope threading her voice.

“They care about appearances,” I muttered to her. She huffed and fell silent.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you,” I told my father, meaning it. “I just needed space to process everything. I’ll call Isolde and Silas next, I promise. As for my mates, if they’re worried—well, they can stay worried.”

“Dahlia, tell me where you are right now,” he ordered, his voice soft but laced with steel. “I’m coming to get you. Don’t argue. I need to see you.”

He was trying to sound stern, but I heard the fear behind his words—the raw edge of desperation. My mother’s death had left a scar, and the thought of losing me too... it was more than he could bear. I’d made him live with that fear, and now I owed him.

“Okay,” I relented. “But on two conditions: One, you can come see me—but I’m not leaving yet. Don’t ask. And two, you do not tell my mates where I am. No matter what.”

I could hear him breathing hard, processing. A full minute passed before he grunted his reluctant agreement.

“I promise. Now tell me.”

“I’m in Midnight Moon. With Aunt Calliope.”

There was a pause.

“Put. Her. On. The. Phone.”

His voice dropped, deadly calm. I winced. I’d hoped to spare her that.

She was already beside me, silently holding out her hand. I mouthed sorry as I passed the phone. She just gave me a shrug and answered sweetly, “Hello, Oberon.”

I took that as my cue to retreat to the shower.

When I came out half an hour later, the house was quiet. Aunt Calliope had vanished into her room, her own shower running. I was relieved—I had no doubt she was annoyed after dealing with my father.

Still drained from the call, I didn’t even bother getting properly dressed. I threw on an old, oversized t-shirt and a pair of cut-off sweats with holes in them. Pure comfort mode.

Then the doorbell rang.

“I’ve got it!” I shouted, not wanting her to rush out. Glancing down at my disheveled state, I shrugged. Probably just dinner delivery. Who cared what the driver thought?

But when I opened the door, it wasn’t a delivery guy.

Standing there was possibly the most stunning man I’d ever laid eyes on. Towering at well over six feet, all lean, honed muscle, with shoulder-length raven-black hair and a perfect five o’clock shadow. His eyes were a piercing, ocean-deep blue, and his lips looked far too soft for someone so rugged.

I suddenly became very aware of my tragic outfit.

He wasn’t as heart-stoppingly beautiful as my mates—of that I was certain—and I was far too broken to be interested in anyone anyway. Still, it was embarrassing.

He smirked slightly, clearly waiting for me to snap out of my daze. I didn’t.

“Hello,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Alpha Faelan. And you are?”