LOGINANGELA’S POVJames came in with a tablet and a steaming mug. The coffee smelled rich and dark, exactly how I liked it. His eyes, usually so sharp and full of jokes, were careful as they looked at me. They moved to the torque around my throat, and I saw a faint, approving smile touch his lips.“Morning, Luna. You look… prepared.” He set the mug down on the dresser and handed me the tablet. “Top file is the patrol summary. All quiet, but they caught a strange scent near the old mill. It was faded, probably just a passing loner. The Beta’s crew noted it for extra sweeps. Second file is the agenda for your meeting with the she-wolves. Martha added some notes about the budget for the spring feast. She can be particular about the meat supplier, just so you know.”I took the tablet. The warmth from the mug seeped into my other hand. “Thank you, James. Is there anything else?”He hesitated. I could see him weighing the situation, the Beta in him deciding what to share. “A few of the elders’ m
ANGELA’S POVAaron was quiet for a long moment. His hand just kept tracing those slow circles on my arm. “Today will be busy,” he finally said. He didn’t move to get up, though. “James has the patrol reports. The council expects a debrief about the ceremony’s, well, atmospheric impact.” I heard the dryness in his words. “And you have your first official Luna’s meeting at noon. The head she-wolves. They’ll want to discuss the spring festivals.”The weight of it all settled over me. It was a familiar weight now, something I was learning how to hold. It didn’t erase the warmth of the bed, or the soft, constant hum of the bond between us. It just sat there beside it.“I know,” I sighed. I wasn’t ready. “I still need to review Martha’s notes.”“Later.” His voice was soft, but it was a command. He rolled over, hovering above me, his arms caging me in. The morning light caught the edges of him, turning him gold. He wasn’t sleepy anymore. His eyes were focused, tender in a way that made my br
AARON’S POVThe taillights of her parents’ car disappeared down the gravel road, swallowed by pines, and something inside my chest finally unclenched. Not triumph, not exactly. Something quieter. Deeper. Like a stone settling into the bed of a river after years of being carried downstream.Angela’s weight leaned heavier against my side, her head tucked under my chin. She smelled like pine smoke from the longhouse fires, like the vanilla lotion her mother always brought her, like mate. “Thank you,” she breathed, the words brushing my throat.I couldn’t answer with anything but my arms tightening around her. The bond carried everything else: the fierce pride, the relief that tasted almost like pain, the knowledge that her two worlds had touched and neither had shattered.People were drifting away from the clearing, footsteps crunching softly on frost-stiff grass. Someone laughed in the distance. The fires had burned down to dull red eyes. Everything felt finished. And beginning.James s
Angela’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







