FAZER LOGINEverly POV
I shouldn’t have opened the window.
2:17 AM. My bedroom was dark except for moonlight cutting across the floor. And there he was. Grayson. Standing in my backyard like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just destroyed my entire life with one dance.
Lila slammed against my ribs.
Go away, I whispered through the glass.
He heard me. Of course he did. Wolf hearing.
“Let me in, Everly.” His voice was rough. Tired. Like he hadn’t slept.
I did. God help me, I did.
The moment he stepped inside, the air changed. It got heavy. Hot. He smelled like the night. Cedar and whiskey and something broken.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said. I wrapped my arms around myself. My tank top suddenly felt like nothing.
“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. He looked wrecked. Dark circles under his eyes. “I’ve been driving for 3 hours. I can’t stop thinking about you. About the dance. About your scent. About how you felt under my hands.”
My heart pounded. “Grayson, we can’t—”
“Don’t say it.” He cut me off. His eyes were gold. Wolf was right under the surface. “Don’t say we can’t. Not tonight. Not after tasting you.”
He stepped closer. I stepped back. My legs hit the bed.
“Your father would kill me,” he said. It sounded like a confession. “My company. His campaign. Everything we built. Gone. 15 years of friendship. Ash.”
“Then why are you here?” My voice shook.
“Because Silver won’t let me breathe.” He said his wolf’s name like a curse. He pressed his palm to his chest. “He’s been clawing at me since you walked into that ballroom. He says you’re ours. That we die without you.”
The word ours broke something in me.
I wanted to be angry. I wanted to push him out.
Instead I whispered, “Mine says the same about you. She hasn’t slept either.”
That was it. That was the mistake.
A low growl tore from his throat. He was on me in one second. Not touching. Just caging me against the bed with his arms. His scent surrounded me. Overwhelmed me.
“Everly,” he gritted out. “Tell me to leave. Right now. Or I’m not responsible for what happens next.”
I looked up at him. At the man who taught me to swim. Who brought me soup when I had the flu. Who was supposed to be safe.
“Don’t be safe,” I whispered. “Not with me. I’m tired of being safe.”
He snapped.
His mouth crashed on mine and it wasn’t gentle. It was 12 years of restraint snapping. His hands were in my hair, on my back, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him sane. Like I was oxygen.
I kissed him back. Desperate. Reckless. Lila was howling in triumph.
We broke apart, both breathing hard.
“This is wrong,” he panted against my lips. His forehead dropped to mine.
“Then stop me,” I challenged. My hands slid under his shirt. His skin was fire.
He didn’t.
He lifted me and laid me on the bed. His weight settled over me and it felt like coming home and starting a war at the same time.
His hands shook when he touched me. Like he was fighting himself and losing.
“Tell me to stop,” he said again. His fangs were down. His eyes were fully silver now. Beautiful and terrifying.
“Never,” I breathed.
And then there was nothing but heat and whispered names and the feeling of belonging I’d ever had before.
When it was over, I lay in his arms shaking. Not from regret. From the bond.
It was there. A thin silver thread connecting my chest to his. Permanent. Warm.
Grayson stared at the ceiling. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it would crack.
“We have to tell Luke,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow.”
“Tell him what? That you marked his daughter?”
He turned to me. Pain in his eyes. “That I’m in love with you. That I can’t give you up. That I’ve been in love with you since you were 19 and I was too much of a coward to say it.”
My heart stopped. “Love?”
“Don’t.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t make this harder. Don’t make me say it again.”
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. And again.
10 missed calls. All Dad.
Reality crashed in. “Oh no,” I breathed. “He knows.”
Grayson was already sitting up. Pulling on his shirt. His face was stone. But his hands were shaking. “No one can know. Not yet.”
“But—”
“If this leaks now, my company tanks. His campaign is over. The packs go to war.” He looked at me. “I need 6 months, Ev. To set things up. To protect you. To make it so no one can touch you.”
6 months. A secret.
I nodded even though it felt like dying. “Okay.”
He cupped my face and kissed me once. Soft. Final. Devastating.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
Then he moved to the window.
That’s when we heard it.
Footsteps. In the hall. Heavy. Deliberate. Not security. Not a guard.
Dad’s footsteps.
Both of us froze.
“Everly?” Dad’s voice. Right outside my door. “Open the door. Now.”
Grayson’s eyes went wide. For the first time since he walked in, he looked scared.
“Shit,” he breathed. “The cameras. He saw my car.”
Panic shot through me. “The window. Go—”
“It’s too late.” He grabbed my wrist. “If he finds me here, we’re done. Both of us.”
The doorknob rattled.
“Everly, I’m not asking again.” Dad’s voice was ice.
Grayson looked at me. Torn. Then he made a choice.
He ducked. Fast. Into my walk-in closet, pulling the door shut behind him just as my bedroom door opened.
I had half a second to yank the blanket up, to hide the mark on my neck, to look like I’d just woken up.
Dad walked in. Senator Luke Carter. In sweats and a frown and eyes that missed nothing.
“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” he demanded.
“I— I was asleep,” I lied. My voice cracked. “What’s wrong?”
He scanned the room. His eyes landed on the open window. Rain on the floor. Two sets of wet footprints. One leading to the bed. One leading to the closet.
His jaw ticked.
“Someone was in here,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
My blood went cold. Lila went silent.
“What?” I forced a laugh. “Dad, that’s crazy. The window was open because it was hot.”
He didn’t believe me. I could see it. He walked to the window, looked out into the dark garden. Then he turned, slowly, and his eyes landed on my closet door.
The closet door that was shaking. Just slightly.
“Who’s in there, Everly?” His voice dropped. Dangerous.
I opened my mouth. No sound came out.
And from inside the closet, Grayson’s phone buzzed.
Once.
Loud.
Dad’s head snapped toward it.
I woke at 3:50 AM. Not alarm. Phone.Text from Senator Hart. My father. 3:51 AM. He never texts at night. Senate rules.> Come alone tomorrow. 9 AM. Board file. Don't bring Alpha.I stared at phone in dark. Grayson asleep next to me, one hand on my waist even sleeping. His pin inside pocket on chair, paint on his suit from last night still there. Painting '36' leaning against wall, not pinned yet.Board file. Damian file I signed as Hart Wolfe. Did I do wrong?I didn't wake Grayson. He counts at 3:50 AM for 3 years, let him sleep at 3:51.At 6 AM, I made flat bread. Flat but warm. Left note on counter: Senate, board file, back 11 AM. Don't count yet. - EDrove to Senator house at 8:30 AM. Blue dress with paint from last night, didn't change. Silver pin with one dot.Gate open. No staff. My mother at door in paint apron again, but holding cloth. Not paint cloth. Velvet cloth."Everly, you came alone?" she whispered, looking at empty car."Father said don't bring Alpha.""Good," she sai
My father, Senator Hart, called at 6 PM on Day 5. Not text. Call. Means formal."Everly, dinner tomorrow 7 PM, my house, with Grayson Wolfe. As... official. Your mother will be there."My mother Lydia, who paints 23 freckles, who sold painting '23' to Helen before I knew.Grayson was in shower when I got call. I shouted through glass, "My father wants dinner tomorrow!"He shouted back, water running, "What time?""7 PM! Formal! My mother will be there!""Does formal mean suit?""Formal means Senate house, suits, cameras possibly, because Senator's daughter now Luna!"Water stopped. He came out, towel, hair wet, counting immediately because nervous."23 freckles, but tomorrow you will have 24 because stress gives you one more?" he said, trying joke."Not funny," I said, but laughed.Senator Hart house is not like Pack House. Pack House is wood, bread, photos taped. Senator house is glass, like old tower, art framed perfectly, not taped, no extra plates.Next day, Day 6, we drove at 6:3
Day 5, first normal day after heat, I went to tower at 9 AM like list said normal now.But normal didn't last.At 10 AM, Marcus came to my small office - I have office now, next to Grayson's, with window that looks at Pack House, not city - and said "Luna, visitor. Not Pack. Says she is mother."I thought Helen. But Helen never says "mother," she says "Mama Wolfe" or "I'm here, open door."Marcus's face said not Helen.Downstairs in reception, woman in white suit, expensive, not Pack style. Pack style is warm, wood, bread. Her style is glass, cold, like old tower.Damian's mother. Mrs. Whitaker.She stood when I entered. She is beautiful in way that makes you feel cold. Like Damian when he smiled in court."Everly," she said, "thank you for seeing me. I know you are... busy now."She looked at my silver pin. One dot. She knew what it means. Pack gossip travels fast."I am Luna now," I said, voice steady. Helen taught me: when other mothers come angry, hold hands together so they don't
First day back at tower after 4 days off, I woke up at 6 AM without alarm. Grayson already gone from bed, but his side warm.Note on pillow in his handwriting: Meeting at 7 AM, but I told Marcus 9 AM. So you can sleep. Bread in kitchen. Flat but warm. - G + 23 frecklesI smiled. Went downstairs. Bread was there, flat again, but with butter already spread, like he tried.At 8:30 AM, Marcus came to pick me up. Not Grayson, because Alpha must enter tower first after Luna heat, tradition."Luna," Marcus said, opening car door, eyes not on me but on pin. I wore silver freckle pin again. One dot."Marcus, you can look," I said, laughing. "Heat done.""I know. But Alpha said I still can't stare at freckles. Only he can count," Marcus said, serious, then smiled. "Pack missed you. Tower missed you."Tower did miss. When I entered lobby at 9 AM, not through service door like before, but through main glass doors where everyone enters, security guard stood.He didn't say "Miss Hart" like before.
Day 4, I woke up at 9:02 AM like list said. Not 4 AM. No burning. No shivering. Just... hungry.Really hungry.Grayson was in kitchen already, in full Alpha suit, tie, shoes, looking like he is going to board meeting, but he was stirring stew that we made yesterday."List says 9 AM wake," he said, not looking up, but smiling. "You woke at 9:02. Two minutes late. Pack will talk.""Pack always talks," I said, voice hoarse but normal, not heat voice.He turned. Eyes brown again, not gold. Normal brown. But soft."How do you feel?" he asked, same question for 4 days.I checked. Body warm, not hot. Hands not shaking. Heart 78, not 112."Normal," I whispered. "Is heat... done?""Done," he said, coming to me, hand on forehead like ritual now. Cool hand, normal forehead. "Last night at 2 AM was last wave. You slept through. I stayed awake to count. You didn't burn."He said it like he passed exam."So today I cook?" I asked."Today you cook. And Pack comes. And after, we are done with 4 days
Day 3 heat is weird, Helen said. Not fever. Not clingy. Just... emotional. You will want to organize everything and cry if one thing is out of place.I woke up at 7 AM and Grayson was already gone from bed.For first time in 3 days, panic hit real panic, not heat panic. I sat up fast, sheets tangled, calling his name too loud."Grayson!"He appeared from closet doorway, toothbrush in mouth, wearing suit pants but no shirt. Hair wet."Here," he said fast, spitting toothpaste, coming to bed. "Here. I was just - I had to get suit for tomorrow. Because tomorrow you cook, and I need to look like Alpha who did not spend 3 days in sweatpants."He smelled like toothpaste and cedar, not rosemary now. Day 3, Helen said, scent changes back to his normal, because my body knows him now.I touched his chest. "You wore suit pants to bathroom?""I wore them to make you laugh. It worked Day 1 when you were fever," he said, sitting, letting me touch his chest like it's normal for Luna in heat to check







