The Announcement

The announcement came like a thunderclap.

Raul stood at the head of the great hall, his voice carrying over the crowd of warriors and pack members gathered at the packhouse the morning after the Blood Moon Festival. “Blood Moon will host an annual Christmas Ball,” he declared, amber eyes gleaming like molten gold. “Not just for us—but for every pack touching our borders. A celebration of unity. A chance for our wolves to find their Goddess-gifted mates who might be living in a different pack.”

The room erupted in murmurs of surprise and excitement. Wolves exchanged glances, whispers rippling like wind through tall grass. Raul’s smile was sharp, predatory—a mask of benevolence stretched over hunger.

Mia stood near the back, her chest tightening as the words sank in. Unity? Raul doesn’t care about unity. He doesn’t care about love or Goddess-gifted bonds. He’s up to something. Her rare purple eyes narrowed, tracking the way her father’s gaze swept the room—not with warmth, but calculation. Every move Raul made was a strategy. Every gesture, a blade.

Christmas Eve

Snow blanketed the grounds like silk, glittering beneath strings of golden lights that draped the Packhouse in opulence. The great hall had been transformed into a winter kingdom—crystal chandeliers casting shards of light across polished floors, garlands of evergreen and holly curling around marble columns. Wolves from every bordering pack filled the space, laughter and music weaving through the air like enchantment. Everyone was dancing and drinking and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Mia moved through the crowd with quiet grace in her floor length, one shoulder, deep purple gown flowing like water, chestnut hair braided and pinned with silver combs. Tiny stud earrings.  Mia was always understated elegance. Her gaze swept the room, cataloging faces—Alphas, Betas, Warriors, Omegas. And there, near the covered patio bar, the leadership teams of the four surrounding packs. They were here for one reason: to keep the peace and to learn what Raul was plotting.

They know him. They don’t fear him. They have gone this long without him making a claim to their packs, but not because of arrogance. These men know to keep the enemy close.

Raul stood at the center of it all, a king in his fortress, his presence commanding every glance. At fifty-five, he was still a storm—broad, powerful, his wolf prowling beneath his skin. His amber eyes burned as he greeted Alphas with smiles that never reached his soul.

Mia’s stomach twisted. This isn’t about mates. It’s about power. It’s always about power.

The night unfolded in a blur of music and laughter, but the air crackled with something sharper—anticipation, hunger, destiny. Wolves danced beneath the glow of the full Moon, their instincts heightened, their senses tuned to the pull of fate.

Over the course of the evening, 4 Goddess-gifted mates found each other that night—eight bonds forged in the fire of destiny. The hall erupted in cheers as wolves claimed their mates, joy spilling like wine across the floor.

But Mia barely heard them. Her focus snapped to the far end of the room, where her youngest sister, Fox, had just stepped through the doors.

Fox—barely nineteen, still in high school, her chestnut curls tumbling down her back reaching her hips, her silver-grey eyes wide with wonder. She looks so much like their mother. She is the only daughter with her mother’s eyes. She moves like a spark through the crowd, heading straight to the dance floor with her closest girlfriends following right behind her. Her laughter bright as bells. She is wearing a red satin dress that hits several inches above her knees, showing off her tanned legs. Tanned legs Winter, with her dark olive skin she looks tan year-around. Her tiny waist cinched with a thin black sparkly belt. Her dress is has a sweat heart neckline that is modestly cut, and the dress is held up with thin spaghetti straps. Fox has large breasts. So the cut of the neckline and the added protection of the spaghetti straps Mia knows was deliberate by Fox. She knows Fox doesn’t want to risk giving any male wolf too much of an eyeful tonight. She opted for short instead of showing cleavage while dancing, smart girl. Fox the shortest of the 4 daughters  is normally standing at 5’7, but Mia notes Fox’s height as she approaches on her way to the dance floor. She is in heels that make her match Mia’s 5’11 frame. Mia rolls her eyes at the sight praying her sister didn’t faceplant it tonight.

And then she froze.

Mia followed Fox’s gaze and then she saw him 6'2, broad-shouldered wolf with hair black as midnight and eyes like molten steel. Palo. The heir to Alpha Hector of the Red Fang Pack—their southern border.

The bond struck like lightning. Fox’s breath hitched, her wolf surging forward in a rush of instinct. Palo crossed the floor in three strides, his gaze locked on hers, his wolf roaring in triumph.

They claim each other right there in the middle of the dance floor. The crowd erupting in cheers as their bond sealed with a kiss that burned like fire. This makes the 5^th couple to claim a mate tonight.

Mia’s heart pounded, dread curling through her veins. No. No, no, no.

Before the night ended, Mia saw her father standing with Alpha Hector, their heads bent in quiet conversation. Raul’s smile was sharp, his hand clasping Hector’s in a grip that spoke of deals struck in shadows.

She didn’t need to hear the words. She knew.

Arrangements were being made. Fox, at only 19, would move to the Red Fang Packhouse. She would join their pack. Raul had secured his first foothold.

Mia’s stomach turned to ice. This is it. This is the beginning. He’s using us—using my sisters—to build his empire. And if I don’t stop him… he’ll destroy everything.