MasukRichard bought fried dough filled with berry cream from a vendor who didn’t look twice at us, and we ate it while walking along narrow streets lined with shops that smelled of wax, herbs, and sea salt.“I used to walk around like this before I became Alpha,” he said, watching a fisherman knot a leng
The offshore safehouse had been designed to look like an ordinary villa, and as we approached it, that disguise felt almost convincing. Sunlight slid across the faded terra‑cotta tiles, and the sea‑green shutters rattled softly whenever the coastal wind pressed against them.The scent of citrus tree
“You never needed me to make sense,” I said. “You saw me, all of me, and stayed. You didn’t flinch when I broke things open. You held my hand through the blood and through the fear. You made space for me to be loud, to be sharp, to be whole. I will walk beside you through whatever comes next, not be
The morning of our wedding began with a stillness I hadn’t felt in years. The Pack House was quiet in a way that felt intentional, like the staff had pulled back out of respect rather than routine. The usual rustle of paper and the clatter of trays were gone, replaced by a stillness that settled low
A push, low and deliberate.I froze. My breath caught. I touched the spot with both hands and stayed completely still.The seamstress said something I didn’t register. I just lowered myself into the nearest chair, barefoot, one hand still pressed to the place where I’d felt the baby. I wasn’t nervou
The Pack House had always been a center of activity, but over the next five months it transformed into something closer to a living organism, breathing with tension and anticipation as preparations unfolded.Conversations overlapped in every hallway, deliveries arrived at all hours, and wedding plan







