Se connecterNut’s POVThe pack didn’t gather all at once.That would have felt like judgment.Instead, they came in pieces—one by one, in twos and threes—drawn by curiosity, by scent, by the quiet pull that something new had entered our territory and chosen to stay.Hong held Rowan close as we stepped into the main hall. He hadn’t let go since William placed the child in his arms. Not even to eat. Not even when Ester offered to take him so Hong could rest.Especially not then.Rowan slept through it all, blissfully unaware of the weight he carried simply by existing.“He’s small,” someone murmured.“But healthy,” another replied.“Looks like Hong.”That earned a snort from the back of the room.Hong stiffened at the attention, shoulders tense, posture protective. I shifted closer without thinking, placing myself just a half-step to his side—not in front of him, not shielding, just present.William stood near the hearth, arms folded loosely, watching the room with a measured calm. He didn’t speak
Nut’s POVWalking back into the pack with a baby in my arms felt more dangerous than crossing enemy territory.Not because I feared William.But because I feared what this would change.The village lights glimmered ahead through the trees, soft and steady. Patrol fires burned low, smoke curling lazily into the sky. Everything looked the same as it always did—secure, prepared, alive.And yet nothing was the same.Hong walked beside me, silent. He hadn’t offered to take the baby again, and I hadn’t offered either. The child slept soundly against my chest, wrapped in my jacket and an extra blanket Hong had insisted on tucking tighter.Each step forward felt like crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.“Nut,” Hong murmured finally. “What if he says no?”I didn’t slow. “Then he’ll have to look at the child when he does.”That was the truth of it.William was Alpha. He made hard choices. Strategic ones. Necessary ones. But he wasn’t cruel—and this wasn’t a strategic problem. This was
Nut’s POVThe forest breathed differently at night.I had learned that long ago—how the air thickened, how shadows stretched just a little too far, how every sound carried weight. The forest was never silent, not truly. It whispered. It warned. It remembered.That was why I stopped the moment I heard it.A sound too fragile to belong here.I lifted my hand, signaling Hong to halt. He froze instantly, instinct drilled into him through years of patrols and bloodshed. The moonlight filtered through the trees, painting silver veins across his face. His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and questioning.“You hear that?” I murmured.He didn’t answer right away. His head tilted slightly, listening deeper than human ears could. Then his shoulders stiffened.“…Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s not an animal.”The sound came again—thin, broken, trembling. A cry that scraped against something old in my chest.A baby.My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin, not with aggression, but confusion. This was
Third person POVThe morning after the meeting with Maverick’s rogue scouts dawned gray and heavy, a thick fog pressed low over the dead forest that Zane had chosen for his temporary camp. The air tasted metallic, as if the land itself sensed what Zane intended to unleash.He didn’t sleep.He rarely slept anymore.Instead, he stood on a ledge of broken stone overlooking the forest floor, where rogues moved like ants—organizing tents, sharpening weapons, testing their shifting. They were a motley assembly of wolves who had no pack, no alpha, no future. But under Zane’s command? They had purpose again—even if that purpose was dipped in blood.Maverick approached from behind, his steps soundless.“You didn’t rest,” he said without question.Zane didn’t turn. “There’s no rest until the White Wolf kneels.”Maverick exhaled slowly. “Zane… this path—it’s dangerous. Even for you.”“And that excites me,” Zane replied, a twisted smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes—the eyes of a wolf that had se
Alpha Zane’s POVThe forest was colder tonight—colder than it should’ve been for early autumn. The moon was thin, a sharp crescent cutting across the sky like a blade, and the wind carried with it the scent of shifting power. Old power. Forbidden power. The power I’d been denied.The power now living inside him—Ester.The White Wolf.The fragment I should have possessed.My jaw clenched hard enough that it cracked in the silence. That should’ve been mine. The Moongoddess’s whisper—the one I’d heard when I was barely thirteen—had promised greatness. Promised dominance. Promised a destiny carved in silver and blood. But she never said it would be given to someone else. Someone unworthy. Someone weak.I dragged in a slow, controlled breath.Tonight wasn’t about what I lost.Tonight was about what I’d take back.I stepped over a fallen log and into the clearing where a dozen shadows waited. Rogues. Wanderers. Exiles. Wolves with no allegiance, no law, no Alpha—but strength. Brutality. Hu
Ester's POVThat night, after tending to the injured wolf and ensuring the pack was on high alert, I lay in our shared quarters with William. His presence was a tether, steady and grounding, wolf coiling beneath my skin like a living pulse in harmony with his. Even in the quiet, I could feel the lingering tension, the echo of the Moon Goddess’s words reverberating through every fiber of my being.Sleep came slowly, tugged toward me by exhaustion, but the Goddess’s voice—soft, luminous, almost liquid in its cadence—called me back into the dreamscape. This time, I didn’t resist.The moon hung high, impossibly bright, spilling silver light across a vast expanse of rolling hills. Wolves moved through the shadows, silhouettes against the pale glow, and at the center of it all was her—radiant, infinite, the Moongoddess herself. Her presence pressed against my chest, filled the hollow of my lungs, and coiled through my spine like an electric current.“Ester,” she said, voice a melody that re







