JACKSON’S POVIt was one night.One damn night.And I was losing my mind.The pack house was glowing—lit from the inside out with excitement and warmth, laughter echoing through every hallway like music. The ceremony was tomorrow. My ceremony. And while the entire pack was practically floating on joy and celebration prep… I was sulking like a grounded pup.Why? Because I wasn’t allowed to see Karen. Not even a peek.I’d tried everything—casual hallway strolls, fake emergencies, even the classic I think she forgot her hairpin down in the kitchen move. But every time I so much as breathed near her door, someone was already there waiting to block me.First, it was Laila, arms crossed, that stern mom glare locked and loaded."You’re not going in there, Jackson," she said, one brow raised like a challenge. "Tradition says no peeking at the bride."I tried to reason with her. "I’ve literally seen her every day for weeks. We’ve nearly died together. I think I can handle one more look—"She r
HANNAH’S POVThe sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, and already I was on my feet with a clipboard in one hand and a string of silver lanterns in the other.The entire courtyard buzzed with activity—pack members carrying crates, hanging silk streamers, arranging flowers in towering vases. Laughter and excited chatter floated in the air like music.But I could only focus on one thing. My son was getting married.And not just as an Alpha, but as Jackson—my boy, the same one who used to run through these halls barefoot and muddy, dragging Liam behind him with some wild story about hunting imaginary rogues.My chest swelled as I paused and looked around. This had to be perfect.“Jessica,” I called out, waving her over. She came jogging up with a ball of ribbon in one hand and a roll of tablecloths in the other.“Make sure the food tables are placed on both sides of the garden—guests will be coming in from the west and south paths, so we don’t want a traffic jam.”She nodded and winked. “Alre
KAREN’S POVThe moment we stepped into the boutique, the air itself seemed to shimmer—rich with the scent of fresh fabric, delicate floral perfumes, and the faintest hint of vanilla from the candles flickering on the display tables.My breath caught as my gaze swept over the endless rows of gowns, each one more breathtaking than the last. Silk, satin, lace—all woven into creations that looked like they belonged in a fairytale.Laila didn’t just walk ahead of me—she bounced, her excitement radiating off her in waves. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to touch everything at once, her dark eyes gleaming under the warm golden lights."Okay, first rule—no boring dresses," she announced, spinning to face me with a pointed finger. "You’re the Luna-to-be. You need to sparkle like the freaking Moon Goddess herself."Sarah smirked beside her, already flipping through a rack of gowns with the precision of a seasoned warrior assessing weapons. "And nothing too stiff," she added, shooting me a
GRAYSON’S POVThe fire in the hearth roared behind me, its golden tongues licking at the soot-stained stone, but the heat never reached my skin. No, the only warmth I felt was the slow, seething burn of fury coiling in my chest, tightening like a noose around my lungs.My fingers curled around the edge of the desk, the wood groaning under the pressure as I stared at the parchment in my other hand—its ink still damp, its words a blade to my patience.Silas is dead. Xavier lives.A muscle twitched in my jaw. The fool. He had one purpose—one simple, bloody purpose—and he’d failed. Not only had he failed to kill his brother, but he’d managed to do the impossible: unite the fractured Shadow Moon pack behind Xavier and Jackson like some damned fairytale.My nostrils flared as I exhaled sharply, the scent of burning oak and my own simmering rage thick in the air. Footsteps echoed behind me—measured, familiar. Noah.“So it’s true, then?” His voice was flat, but I didn’t miss the undercurrent
JACKSON’S POVThe days passed slowly, but I was finally healing. I could get out of bed on my own now—no help, no sharp pain pulling me back down. Just a dull ache that reminded me of what we’d survived.Today, the pack house felt different. It was alive. Laughter echoed through the halls, the smell of roasted meat and spices drifted from the kitchen, and the fire crackled in the hearth like it was feeding off the joy in the air.For once, there was no whisper of war, betrayal, or loss hanging over our heads. Just... family.I sat at the long dining table with Liam on my right, Laila on my left. Sarah was next to Liam, their hands hidden but fingers clearly intertwined beneath the table. And Karen—gods, Karen—was leaning gently against me, her head resting briefly on my shoulder, her hand flat against my chest like she still needed proof I was here, breathing, alive.Across the room, Alex and Logan stepped in. They hesitated at first, as if unsure whether they were walking into a home
JACKSON’S POVThe darkness had finally cleared. It wasn’t just blackness—it felt like I’d been stuck under something heavy and thick, like trying to breathe through mud.I didn’t know how long I was trapped in that place, floating somewhere between pain and silence, but something sharp pulled me out.A scent. Honey. Wildflowers. Cinnamon.Karen.My eyes fluttered open, the light stabbing into them. My head pounded, my body ached like I’d been hit by a truck—no, a pack of angry Lycans. Everything hurt. But through it all, I saw her.She was curled up beside my bed in a chair, her head resting against the edge, one hand holding mine like it was her lifeline.“Karen?” My voice came out cracked and rough, like gravel scraping concrete.Her head shot up so fast I thought she might hurt herself. The moment our eyes met, hers filled with tears. Then she threw herself forward and cupped my face with trembling hands.“Jackson…” Her voice broke. “Moon Goddess—you’re awake.”I tried to sit up, b