LOGINHis voice was soft when he asked, “Are you mad at Daddy?”My breath caught.I didn’t answer right away. I just held him tighter, brushing my lips against the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of shampoo and dreams.“No, baby,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just sad
ELENAHe said it. Just like that."Because I was a coward."And for a moment, I didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. I just stared at him, this towering Alpha, folded in on himself like the weight of everything he’d done was finally more than he could bear.It wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t defensive. I
DEREKI was more nervous than I had ever been in my entire life.And that included some truly horrible moments. Moments when life and death had been in the balance.Worse than when Aiden had been in the hospital, his little body limp and pale against white sheets, machines screaming at me that I mig
ELENA"I’m strong enough to travel," I said.The words came out firmer than I expected. My voice still felt like it didn’t quite belong to me—too quiet, too dry—but I forced strength into it anyway.My mother narrowed her eyes at me across the hospital room, arms folded, posture stiff with tension.
ELENAThe first thing I felt was cold.Not the kind of cold that settled into your bones. Not the chill of snow or wind. It was sterile, dry, antiseptic. The kind of cold that came from machines humming, filtered air, fluorescent lights. A hospital.I blinked slowly, and the world came into focus in
DEREKToday was going well.Which, lately, felt like a miracle.The meeting room was warm with early sunlight, and the Stormfang delegation finally looked less like they wanted to skin me and more like they might—possibly—listen. The Icelandic pack had been guarded since our arrival, especially with
DEREKThe crowd had already begun to gather when I arrived.The courtyard in front of the new Rogue Foundation was cordoned off with velvet rope and lined with silver-and-navy banners. The city's emblem flew alongside Moonstone’s and Red Ridge’s on tall flagpoles, and a heavy length of ribbon stretc
She mattered. Her work mattered. And I wasn’t going to let politics or petty grudges get in the way of that.Still, the silence from her was a wound that never stopped aching.That afternoon, my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number.I almost didn’t answer.But some part of me—worn down, tired
He didn’t flinch. Just bowed his head and let the droplets fall onto the stone.Then, slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the altar.The stone accepted him. As it had all who came before.Then it was Mason’s turn.My brother walked steadily, a ribbon of tension in his shoulders. He
ELENAThe light from the Foundation office windows spilled across my desk in golden lines, a soft glow that matched the calm in the room. Outside, the last stretch of autumn clung to the trees—leaves fluttering in warm orange and red waves. Inside, I was going through the budget report for the upcom







