MasukAngela’s POVA respectful space had been left between the shadow moon wolves and my family. Aaron, still in his majestic black wolf form, nudged me gently toward them. Then he shifted in a smooth, powerful motion, grabbed a pair of trousers someone had ready, and took my hand.“Mom. Dad,” I said, my voice choked. I was suddenly aware of my bare feet in the snow, the cloak smelling of forest and wolf.My mother didn’t hesitate. She broke forward and pulled me into a fierce hug that smelled of her familiar perfume. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered, crying openly. “You look… you look like a goddess of the moon.” She pulled back, cupping my face, her eyes darting to the mark on my shoulder, then to Aaron. No fear. Just a mother’s deep, wondering acceptance.My father stepped up. He didn’t hug me. He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, his grip firm. He looked at Aaron, and then he did something that made the surrounding wolves go still. He bowed his head. Not a full bow, but a deep, respe
ANGELA’S POVThe run was pure magic. It felt like being swept up in a current, all fur and muscle and heartbeats pounding in time. I wasn’t separate anymore. I wasn’t being watched. I was part of the river.We wove through the moonlit forest, one living thing made of many. The sound wrapped around me: the steady rhythm of paws on frozen earth, the panting breaths, a joyful yip now and then.A young, tawny wolf ran shoulder-to-shoulder with me, glancing over with bright eyes before darting ahead playfully. Later, an older she-wolf with a silvery coat fell in beside me. Her pace was steady, sure, a silent presence that somehow grounded the whole night.And there was Aaron. A dark shadow on my left, my constant anchor. He didn’t lead from the front. He ran with us, the quiet center everything else moved around. Every so often, his shoulder would bump mine, or his flank would brush me. Just a touch. You good? I’d nudge him back. Never better. Really, never better.The frenzy slowly gentle
ANGELA’S POVWe ran deeper into the heart of his land. Our land. And as we did, I began to feel them. Not just smell them. Feel them. Like points of warmth on a dark map, scattered at first, then gathering, flowing toward a single destination. The pack. Their curiosity, their hope, their cautious excitement buzzed at the very edge of my awareness, a low hum through the mate bond. It was overwhelming, but it was not hostile. It was expectant.We broke through a final line of trees into a vast, natural amphitheater. The Gathering Stone, a massive slab of dark rock that looked as though it had been dropped by giants, stood in the center, lit by the rising moon.And around it, waiting in a sea of fur and watchful eyes, was the Shadow Moon Pack.Hundreds of wolves. Maybe thousands. They were utterly silent. Every head was turned toward the entrance, toward us. The weight of their collective gaze was a physical pressure. My steps faltered for a single heartbeat.A deep, rumbling growl sound
ANGELA’S POVThe rest of the day moved in a strange, slow motion. It was all ordinary things: coffee, showers, the quiet clatter of making lunch together at the island. But everything felt underlined now, somehow highlighted. Every time our hands brushed, every shared glance across the counter, was a silent reminder. Tomorrow night.The nerves were there, a low buzz in the background, but they were mostly drowned out by Aaron’s steady presence and by the warm, humming certainty of the bond. He was giving me space to just be, to get used to the idea, which was its own kind of gift.In the afternoon, I found myself standing at the window in his study. It was our study now, I guess. I stared out at the pack lands stretching toward the tree line, at the distant figures moving between the cabins. His pack members. Soon to be mine as well. My people. A shiver ran through me, half fear and half something like awe.I had been in this position before, Luna of the Crimson Pack, but I never real
ANGELA’S POVI’m running.Not from anything. Just because I can. Because it’s a night made for running. The forest is silver, every leaf edged in frost that glitters. My paws are huge and white, and they barely touch the ground. The air is cold. It smells like pine, like snow, like Aaron.He’s beside me, a massive black wolf with eyes the exact green of the waking world. We move together, shoulder to shoulder, breath for breath, like we’ve been doing this for a thousand years. The bond between us is a living ribbon wrapped tight around both our hearts. It hums. The joy is so fierce it almost hurts.We break into a clearing. Ancient oaks ring it. The moon hangs low and swollen, so bright the snow looks blue. Aaron skids to a halt. He shifts mid-stride, rising naked and perfect in the light. I follow. I laugh as the shift ripples over me, warm like water.He catches me before my feet touch the ground. His arms crush me to his chest. The snow is cold under my bare toes, but his skin is f
AARON’S POVWhen she was dry, I scooped her up again. She weighed nothing. I carried her back to bed and tugged my favorite soft black T-shirt over her head. It swallowed her whole, the hem brushing mid-thigh, the collar slipping off one creamy shoulder. She lifted the fabric to her face and breathed in, her eyes fluttering shut.“Smells like you,” she whispered, sleepy and content.I swallowed hard. “Want you always wearing me.”I tucked her into the center of the bed, pulled the covers up, and brushed damp curls from her forehead. Her stomach growled loud enough to echo. She laughed, her cheeks pink.“What does my girl want?” I asked, grinning.“Something warm. Carby. Cheesy,” she said, biting her lip like she was asking for the world.“Grilled cheese and tomato soup? Extra-sharp cheddar, sourdough?”Her eyes went huge and shining. “Yes. Please.”I kissed her slow, tasting myself on her tongue. “Stay here. I’ll bring it to you.”She caught my wrist. “Aaron?”“Yeah, baby?”“I love yo







