My Alphas' Dark Desires novel Chapter 129

Chapter 129: Painful Memories

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Chapter 129

~Author’s POV~

South Region – Golden Claw Pack

The gates of the Golden Claw estate creaked open as Zade’s black Range Rover rolled onto the gravel path, and the late sunset light gleamed faintly off the sleek vehicle.

The estate itself stood tall—a fortress of prestige and tradition, tucked deep in the southern woods.

The air was thick with pine and lavender, a scent his ancestors once deemed calming to warriors before war.

Zade didn’t feel calm.

Not today.

He pulled to a stop in front of the pack house, where two omega maids waited dutifully at the steps, hands folded neatly in front of them.

One of them stepped forward. "Alpha Zade, welcome home. You have a visitor waiting in the main room."

He raised a brow, pushing his sunglasses up into his thick, blond curls. "Visitor?"

The second omega gave a small nod. "Lady Tempest."

His expression shifted, a faint, nostalgic smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Tempest.

It had been a long time.

"Thanks," he murmured as he stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting the dark jacket over his shoulders.

He moved with that smooth, casual power that came naturally to him, as if his very presence commanded the wind to hold its breath.

As he entered the main room, he saw her before she turned.

Tempest—barefoot, regal as ever in a flowing burnt orange kaftan, her natural curls wild and unbothered, gold hoops dangling from her ears. She turned the moment she felt him enter, her smile stretching wide as her eyes lit up.

"Hello, Tempest."

"Zade!" Tempest laughed, walking forward to embrace him tightly. "It’s been what, brother-in-law—two years since we’ve seen each other?"

Zade chuckled, shaking his head as he returned her hug with one arm. "Always the drama queen. It’s been just a year and a few months."

Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she stepped back. "And I’m the drama queen? Zade, back in the day—eighteen years ago, or even ten—we saw each other all the time. Me. You. My twin, your wife. The kids. Snow and—"

"Zara," Zade finished for her, his smile slowly fading into something quieter as his gaze lowered.

"Yeah." Tempest’s voice dropped with his.

Zade sighed, shoulders visibly heavy. "I know. But times changed and..."

"And you secluded yourself from the family, Zade," Tempest cut in, not unkindly, but honestly. "Yes, Zara was your sister. But Snow was my little brother. And Aira? My twin. I didn’t just lose a brother and sister-in-law. I lost my family. And you... you just disappeared."

He ran a hand over his jaw, jaw tensing. "Tempest, it hasn’t been easy. I lost Zara twice now."

"I know. By the way, where is Aira?"

Zade shrugged lightly before letting his gaze glance around. "Don’t look at me like that, Tempest. I just got home."

She blinked. "So did I."

They stood in silence for a beat.

Just then, one of the omega maids slipped into the room, bowing her head respectfully. "Alpha, Luna Aira is in her workshop. She’s painting and didn’t want to be disturbed."

Zade glanced toward the hallway that led up the stairs. His shoulders softened just slightly.

Paintings of Snow, Zara and Valerie or as Zara used to call her—Violet.

They rolled silently down her cheeks as she stepped forward, reaching out but not daring to touch.

There was a series of paintings lined up in the corner—Valerie as a toddler sitting on Snow’s shoulders. Another, Zara holding her as a baby wrapped in silver linen.

And one in particular—Valerie in the rain, looking skyward, face blurred like Aira had painted it from memory, but couldn’t quite grasp Snow’s daughter’s expression.

Zade stood silently beside her, watching the emotions ripple through his sister-in-law.

"She never stopped loving them," he said softly. "Not for a second."

Tempest wiped her cheek roughly. "She paints to remember."

"To keep them alive," he added.

Tempest turned, her voice cracking. "Does she... does Valerie know she’s remembered like this?"

Zade didn’t answer. His expression turned unreadable. "I don’t think Aira would know how to show her. Not yet. But she’s trying. This is her way of speaking."

There was a long silence between them.

Tempest stepped closer to one particular painting—Zara and Snow seated on a garden bench, their fingers intertwined, Valerie asleep between them.

"They look so happy," she whispered.

"They were," Zade replied, eyes softening. "Before everything shattered."

He looked at Tempest then. "She’s not just painting for them. She’s painting to remember."

Tempest turned to face him.

"She will," she said firmly, voice steel through tears. "And when she does, we’d better be ready to receive her smile and sadness."

Zade’s gaze didn’t waver. "I will."

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