Chapter 4

I kept my expression neutral as I approached, stopping several yards away. "I keep my word unlike some asshole uncle’s who once pretended that he cared about me when the rest of the Graystone pack turned their back on me from the moment I was born.” I retorted.

Dominick's smile tightened, the first crack in his composed facade. Around us, murmurs rippled through the gathered wolves.

"Such disrespect," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "Is this what the Steel pack has taught you? To dishonour your elders?"

"You forfeited respect when you murdered my parents," I replied evenly. "You forfeited honour when you stole what wasn't yours to take."

My fingers brushed against the pendant at my throat. Dominick's eyes tracked the movement, hunger flashing across his face.

"The pendant should have been mine by right," he growled. "My brother was weak. The pack needed strength."

"The pack needed a leader, not a tyrant." I stepped forward, my voice rising to address the gathered Graystone wolves. "How many of you have suffered under his rule? How many have disappeared for questioning his decisions?"

Several Graystone wolves shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances. Dominick's smile vanished completely.

"Enough talk," he snapped. "You've issued a challenge. Let's proceed."

A neutral elder from the Northern pack stepped forward. "The challenge will follow ancient law. Combat will continue until submission or death. No outside interference is permitted once the challenge begins." He looked between us. "Are the terms accepted?"

"They are," Dominick and I answered in unison.

The elder nodded solemnly. "Then prepare yourselves."

I turned toward Uncle Mateo, who stepped forward with a small vial of oil. Wordlessly, he anointed my forehead, throat, and hands – an old ritual my father had performed before ceremonial combats.

"Your parents are with you today," he whispered. "In your heart, in your blood."

I nodded, emotion threatening to overwhelm me. Over his shoulder, I caught sight of Maison and Jackson standing with their father. Their expressions were carefully controlled, but I could feel their attention like a physical touch.

When I turned back to face Dominick, he had already removed his jacket and shoes. His body was lean but powerful, the body of a wolf who had maintained his dominance through violence for years.

"Last chance to withdraw, little girl," he taunted. "Submit now, and perhaps I'll be merciful."

I said nothing, centring myself as I'd practised. The pendant warmed against my skin, and my mother's vial pulsed in counterpoint. The moonstone bracelet Jackson had given me glowed faintly in the morning light.

The elder raised his hand. "Begin!"

Dominick didn't waste time with further words. He lunged forward, shifting mid-leap into a massive black wolf with eyes like burning coals. His transformation was fluid, practiced – the movement of an Alpha who had held power for years.

I waited until the last possible moment before dodging sideways, calling on Star as I moved.  My transformation was seamless—fluid like water rather than the violent explosion of Dominick's shift. Where he relied on brute force, Star emerged in a swirl of stormy fur and blue eyes, our movements graceful and precise. I heard gasps from the gathered wolves, many seeing a Moon Wolf's transformation for the first time.

Dominick circled, his massive black form dwarfing mine, lips pulled back in a snarl. He expected fear. Instead, Star met his gaze steadily, our shared consciousness calculating, waiting.

He struck first—a feint to the left before lunging right. I anticipated the move, twisting away with supernatural speed that left him snapping at empty air. His surprise gave me an opening, and I darted in, teeth grazing his flank before dancing away.

A growl of frustration rumbled through the clearing. Dominick wasn't used to opponents who could match his speed. His next attack came with greater force, his jaws aiming for my throat in a killing move that would have ended the challenge instantly.

I dropped and rolled, using the techniques Maison and Jackson had drilled into me. As Dominick's momentum carried him over me, I raked my claws along his exposed underbelly—not deep enough to disembowel, but enough to draw blood and a howl of pain.

The scent of his blood triggered something primal in me—the memory of my parents' deaths, their blood staining the floor of our family home while this monster stood over them. Star pushed forward, hungry for vengeance, and for a dangerous moment, I let her take control.

We lunged at Dominick before he could recover, our teeth finding purchase on his shoulder. He twisted violently, throwing us off and into a nearby tree. Pain exploded through my ribs, but I forced myself up before he could press his advantage.

-Patience,- I cautioned Star. -Remember the plan.-

We circled each other again, blood matting his black fur and dripping from a cut above my eye. The wolves around us had fallen silent, the only sounds our laboured breathing and the occasional growl.

"Your father died begging," Dominick's voice invaded my mind—an Alpha's power pushing into my consciousness. "On his knees like a dog."

The words were meant to enrage me, to make me reckless. Instead, I drew on Jackson's training, letting the emotion flow through me without controlling me.

-Lies,- Star snarled. -Your father died protecting us.-

Dominick lunged again, but this time I was ready. Instead of dodging, I met his charge head-on, our bodies colliding with bone-jarring force. We tumbled across the clearing in a blur of teeth and claws, neither gaining a clear advantage.

He was stronger, but I was faster. His experience was greater, but my techniques were unfamiliar to him. For every wound he inflicted, I returned one of my own.

Blood slickened the ground beneath us as we separated, circling each other once more. I could feel my strength beginning to wane, the sustained full shift taxing my reserves after years of limited practice. But Dominick was wounded too, favouring his right side where my teeth had torn through muscle.

"You fight well for a pup," he projected, his mental voice laced with grudging respect. "But you lack endurance. I can feel you weakening."

He wasn't wrong. The edges of my vision were starting to blur, my breathing becoming more laboured. I needed to end this soon or risk losing to simple exhaustion.

Star pushed a memory forward—one of my mother's teachings from when I was barely old enough to shift. Moon Wolves didn't rely solely on physical strength. We had other gifts.

I drew on the pendant's power, feeling it pulse against my fur. The moonstones in the bracelet glowed brighter, resonating with the ancient magic in my bloodline. As Dominick charged again, I didn't move—not physically.

Instead, I projected an image of myself dodging left while remaining perfectly still.

Dominick's massive form lunged at the illusion, confusion flashing in his eyes when his jaws closed on empty air. In that split second of disorientation, I struck, teeth finding his throat in the killing hold that Maison had drilled into me for hours.

I didn't bite down fully. Not yet.

"Yield," I projected into his mind. "Or die."

Rage and disbelief poured from him in waves. "Moon Wolf trickery," he snarled mentally. "Your mother's blood taints you."

"My mother's blood saves you," I corrected. "If you yield now."

For a moment, I thought he might actually submit. His body went slack beneath mine, his breathing shallow against my grip.

Then I felt it—the gathering of his muscles, the subtle shift of weight that Jackson had warned me about. He was preparing one final, desperate attack.

I tightened my jaws just as he exploded into motion. Blood filled my mouth, hot and metallic, as my teeth sank deeper into his throat. Not enough to kill immediately, but enough to ensure he understood the choice before him.

"Last chance," I projected. "Yield or die."

Something changed in his eyes then—a flicker of fear replacing the arrogance that had ruled there for so long. He went still, submission finally replacing defiance.

"I... yield," he projected, the mental voice faint with defeat.

I held him a moment longer, making sure it wasn't another trick, before carefully releasing my grip. As I stepped back, blood staining my muzzle, the clearing erupted in shocked murmurs.

The neutral elder stepped forward. "The challenge is complete. By ancient law, Dominick Graystone has yielded. Marabelle Daisy Graystone is the rightful Alpha of the Graystone pack.”

That might be true, but they didn’t want me as a child, even told their children to stay as far away from me as possible, regardless of being their Alpha’s daughter. Why would they want me now?

I shifted back to human form, the transformation slower than before due to exhaustion. The pendant around my neck burned hot against my skin, acknowledging the victory. Blood smeared my face and hands, but I stood tall, refusing to show weakness before the gathered packs.

Dominick remained in wolf form at my feet, his breathing laboured, defeat evident in every line of his massive body. I could end him now—would be justified in doing so after what he'd done to my parents. My fingers twitched with the temptation.

"Finish it," someone called from the Graystone side. "Take what's yours."

Instead, I knelt beside my fallen uncle, my voice low enough that only he could hear. "You live today not because you deserve mercy, but because I refuse to become what you are. You will leave the territories by nightfall. If I ever see you again, I will not hesitate."

His eyes met mine, hatred and something like grudging respect mingling there. When he shifted back to human form, blood still seeping from his throat wound, he looked smaller somehow—the monster of my nightmares reduced to a bitter, aging wolf.

"The pack will never follow you," he rasped. "A half-breed. A Moon Wolf."

"That's for them to decide," I replied, rising to my feet. "But they will have the choice. Something you never gave them."

I turned to face the gathered Graystone wolves, studying faces I barely remembered from childhood. Some looked wary, others curious, and a few were openly hostile. These wolves had stood by while my parents were murdered, had accepted Dominick as their Alpha without question. Could they ever truly be my pack?

"I claim my birthright as Alpha of the Graystone pack," I announced, my voice carrying across the clearing. "But I will not force anyone to follow me. Those who wish to remain with the pack, meet me at the ancestral grounds in three days' time. Those who choose to follow Dominick into exile may do so without retribution."

Murmurs rippled through the Graystone ranks. This wasn't traditional—an Alpha claiming victory only to offer choice rather than demanding submission. But I wasn't a traditional Alpha.

Uncle Mateo approached, pride shining in his eyes as he draped a blanket around my shoulders. "Your father would be proud," he murmured. "Both of your skill and your mercy."

As the formalities concluded and the gathering began to disperse, I felt rather than saw the Steel twins approach. They flanked me without touching, their presence a steady anchor as reaction began to set in. My legs trembled with fatigue, adrenaline draining away to leave only bone-deep exhaustion.

"You need medical attention," Jackson said quietly, eyeing the gashes on my arms and the still-bleeding cut above my eye.

"And rest," Maison added. "Your first shift in years, and you maintained it through combat. The strain on your system must be immense.”

“You're funny, Maison. This isn’t my first shift in years, just a fight that’s played out in my mind every night for the last eight years.” I stated.

Maison's brow furrowed, his hand hovering near my elbow but not quite touching. "What do you mean?"

"I've been shifting regularly," I admitted, swaying slightly as fatigue hit me harder. "Just... privately. In the woods, far from pack territories. Star needed freedom."

Jackson exchanged a look with his brother. "All these years, we thought—"

"You thought what you wanted to think," I said, too exhausted for diplomacy. "That I was some broken half-wolf playing human."

I took a step forward and stumbled, my legs finally giving out. Maison caught me before I hit the ground, his arms strong and steady around my waist. The contact sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with my injuries—a resonance between the pendant at my throat and the bracelet at my wrist.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I didn't fight the support for once, allowing him to take my weight as we moved toward the waiting vehicles. The Graystone wolves watched our departure with mixed expressions—confusion, speculation, and in some cases, dawning hope.

"They'll follow you," Uncle Mateo said, noticing my gaze. "Not all, but enough. The pack has suffered under Dominick. They remember your father's leadership."

"I don't know if I want them to," I admitted quietly. "I don't know if I can lead a pack that turned their backs on me."

"Then build something new," Jackson suggested, walking on my other side. "Something that honors your heritage without being bound by it."

The idea settled in my mind, taking root despite my exhaustion. Something new. Not the Graystone pack as it was, but what it could be.

At the vehicles, Logan waited with the rest of the Steel Fangs pack representatives. His expression was solemn but satisfied as he took in my bloodied but victorious state.

"Well fought, Alpha Graystone," he said formally, using the title that still felt foreign to my ears.

"Just Daisy," I corrected, leaning more heavily against Maison as another wave of fatigue hit me. "For now."

Logan's mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. "As you wish. The Steel Fangs pack extends an invitation for you to recover at our compound before you address your new responsibilities."

I nodded gratefully, too tired to question the political implications. "Thank you."

The drive back passed in a blur of pain and exhaustion. I drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of Maison's arm around my shoulders, steadying me against the vehicle's movement. Jackson sat across from us, his eyes never leaving my face, concern etched in every line of his usually composed features.

By the time we reached the Steel Fangs compound, I could barely stand. Maison lifted me without asking permission, carrying me through hallways that seemed longer than I remembered. I don’t even remember falling asleep. I woke to golden light streaming into a bedroom that wasn’t mine and not even the make-shift one the Alpha Logan had given me when my uncle’s men had come after me.

I blinked slowly, trying to orient myself. The room was spacious and elegant, decorated in rich blues and silvers that reminded me of moonlight on water. Not a guest room—someone's personal quarters. The bed I lay in was enormous, the sheets softer than anything I'd ever slept on.

My body ached everywhere, but distantly, as if the pain belonged to someone else. I glanced down to find my wounds cleaned and bandaged, my bloodied fighting clothes replaced with a soft nightgown. The moonstone bracelet glowed steadily against my wrist, and when I reached for my throat, I found my pendant still there, warm against my skin.

"You're awake."

I turned toward the voice. Maison sat in a chair near the bed, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he hadn't slept. His usual composed demeanour was absent, replaced by something more vulnerable, more human.

"How long?" My voice came out raspy from disuse.

"Almost twenty hours." He rose, pouring water from a pitcher on the bedside table. "You were more depleted than we realised."

I accepted the glass gratefully, the cool water soothing my parched throat. "Where am I?"

"My quarters." At my raised eyebrow, he added, "The pack healer said you needed to be near your...near someone with a connection to you. To stabilise your energy after such a significant drain."

I noticed his careful avoidance of the word "mate," and something in me both appreciated and resented it.

"The Graystone wolves?" I asked, setting the empty glass aside.

"Most have returned to their territory. A few remained—those most loyal to your father, according to Mateo." Maison sat on the edge of the bed, careful to maintain distance between us. "Word of your victory has spread through all the territories. The first female Alpha of a founding pack in generations. The return of Moon Wolf magic."

I closed my eyes briefly, the weight of what I'd done—what I'd become—settling over me. "I never wanted any of this."

"I know." His voice was gentle. "But sometimes our legacies choose us."

I opened my eyes to find him watching me with that intense gaze that seemed to see past all my carefully constructed walls.

"Where's Jackson?" I asked, suddenly aware of his absence.

"Handling pack business. Father thought it best if we..." he hesitated, "...didn't overwhelm you."

The implication was clear. They were still giving me space, still walking on eggshells around the mate bond they claimed existed.

I pushed myself to a sitting position, wincing as my body protested. "I need to see the Graystone wolves who stayed. And talk to Uncle Mateo."

"You need to rest," Maison countered firmly. "The healer was clear about that."

"I've been asleep for twenty hours."

"And you used energy reserves you didn’t and should have never had to fight so hard,” Maison stated.

“No, I shouldn’t, “ I agreed, “but I take it you've seen all of my old scars? Beta Dean, Delta Carter and Gamma Tristan aren’t the first future Alpha units I’ve had problems with. The only difference is that my future Beta, Marcus, Uncle Mateo’s nephew, tried to kill me. I was knocked out for a week, and when I woke, I had been told it was put down to a youthful indecision by his father.”

“Why would an …” Maison stopped as he couldn’t find the words to finish his sentence.

“Alpha unit do that to an Alpha or at least a future one because I was never seen as one, my unit was all three years older than me, who should have acted like older brothers instead did the opposite. So when I was exiled, I became free of their torture and decided that I’d live my own life away from the pack because I don’t even know what one is. Jackson thought by going to Japan, I was still trying to run no, only a few people know that I created the whole menu at Sneakz, from the burgers to all of the sauces, that’s why I was going because I found something that they couldn’t take away from me.” I said my voice barely above a whisper as the tears began to fall. “I’ve never been wanted so why would anyone want to start now.”

What I didn’t notice was that Jackson had arrived and overheard my words when I looked at moving between both Alphas, their faces looked back at me with a mixture of sadness, disbelief, anger, and perhaps understanding.

“That’s not what…” Jackson stuttered from the door.

“… packs are supposed to do or be about. Yeah, so I’ve been told. Good thing is I’m used to not being wanted so it no longer hurts me as much as it did once.” I said flatly.

Maison's jaw clenched, a muscle working beneath his skin. "That ends now."

He moved closer, his weight shifting the mattress as he sat beside me. Without asking permission, he took my hand, turning it palm up to reveal the thin scars that crossed my wrist—evidence of Marcus's attack years ago.

"These should have been avenged," he said quietly, his thumb tracing the silvery lines. "A pack protects its own, especially its future Alpha."

"I wasn't their Alpha," I replied, trying to withdraw my hand, but Maison held firm. "I was a burden. The half-breed daughter of a disgraced bloodline."

Jackson approached the bed from the other side, his usual analytical demeanour replaced by something rawer. "You were never a burden, Daisy. Not to us, not to anyone who truly understood what you are."

"And what exactly am I?" I challenged, looking between them. "A convenient political alliance now that I've claimed the Graystone Alpha title? A rare Moon Wolf to add to your pack's prestige?"

"Our mate," Maison said simply, the words hanging in the air between us.

The bracelet at my wrist pulsed in response, warmth spreading up my arm. Star stirred in my consciousness, pushing forward with unusual insistence.

-Listen to them,- she urged. -Feel the truth.-

"I can't," I whispered, unsure if I was responding to Star or the twins.

"Can't or won't?" Jackson asked gently, sitting on my other side.

I was surrounded now, their scents mingling in a way that made something deep inside me ache with recognition. The pendant at my throat seemed to resonate with the bracelet, creating a circuit of energy that made it impossible to think clearly.

"Both," I admitted finally. "I don't know how to be part of a pack. I don't know how to trust after everything that's happened."

"Then let us show you," Maison said, his voice dropping to that low register that made my skin prickle with awareness. "Not as Alphas commanding your obedience, but as mates asking for a chance."

"Starting with Japan," Jackson added, surprising me.

I blinked at him. "What about Japan?"

"Your culinary program," he clarified. "If that's truly what you want, we'll support it. Help you arrange everything, ensure your safety while you're there."

"But we'd like you to consider another option as well," Maison continued. "One that doesn't require choosing between your heritage and your passion."

I looked between them suspiciously. "What option?"

"A restaurant," Jackson said. "Here, within the merged territories. Your own space to create whatever cuisine you want, with no limitations."

"Merged territories?" I echoed.

Maison nodded. "The Steel and Graystone lands share a border. An alliance through mating would unite them, creating the strongest territory in the region. Your restaurant could be at the heart of it."

The idea sparked something I hadn't felt in a long time—possibility. Not just escape, but creation. Building something that was mine while still honouring where I came from.

"You've thought this through," I said cautiously.

"We've had eight years to think about it," Jackson replied with a hint of wry humour. "Even if we couldn't act on it."

I shifted, wincing as my injuries protested. "This all feels... convenient. Suddenly I'm valuable because I won a challenge fight."

"You were always valuable," Maison said fiercely. "The challenge just means we don't have to hide it anymore."

He reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and brushed a strand of hair from my face. The touch sent a ripple of warmth through me that had nothing to do with my injuries.

"I don't know if I can be what either of you want," I admitted. "Or what the Graystone wolves need in an Alpha."

"Then be what you need," Jackson suggested. "The rest will follow."

The simplicity of his words struck me. What did I need? Not just survival, not just escape. Something more.

Star pushed forward again, her presence stronger than ever. -Home,- she insisted. -Pack. Mates.-

The twins must have seen something change in my expression, because they exchanged a quick glance, hope flickering in their eyes.

"We're not asking for an answer now," Maison said. "Just a chance to prove ourselves. To show you what a real pack can be."

"And if I still want to go to Japan?" I challenged.

"Then we'll wait," Jackson answered without hesitation. "Mate bonds don't expire."

I looked down at my hands, at the moonstone bracelet still glowing softly against my skin. "I need time."

"You have it," Maison assured me. "Take all the time you need."

A knock at the door interrupted us. Uncle Mateo entered, his face lighting up when he saw me awake.

"There's my warrior," he said warmly, approaching the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I fought an Alpha wolf and barely survived," I replied with a weak smile.

"That's because you did." He sat in the chair Maison had vacated, studying me with practised eyes. "The healer says you'll make a full recovery, but you pushed yourself beyond safe limits."

"Worth it," I said quietly.

Uncle Mateo nodded, understanding in his eyes. "The Graystone representatives are asking to see you. When you're ready."

I took a deep breath, centering myself. "Who stayed?"

"Elder Miriam, your father's oldest advisor. Caleb, who was once your father's Delta. A few others who remained loyal in secret during Dominick's reign."

“As for my Alpha Unit?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

Mateo's expression darkened. "Marcus was exiled years ago, after what he did to you. The others..." He hesitated. "They've requested to speak with you as well."

A cold weight settled in my stomach. "They want forgiveness."

"They want a chance," Mateo corrected gently. "Like many who served under Dominick, they made choices out of fear rather than loyalty."

I laughed bitterly. "Their 'choices' began long before Dominick took power. They tormented me when we were children, Mateo. You know that."

Maison's hand tightened on mine, his posture tensing at my words. Jackson's expression had gone dangerously still.

"I'm not saying you owe them anything," Mateo said carefully. "Only that hearing them might help you decide what kind of Alpha you want to be."

I closed my eyes briefly, exhaustion washing over me again. "Fine. Tomorrow. Not today."

"Of course," Mateo agreed, rising. "Rest now. There's no rush."

As he turned to leave, another thought struck me. "The restaurant at Sneakz—"

"It's secure," he assured me. "Logan sent a team to retrieve your belongings from the apartment. They're in the adjoining room whenever you want them."

After Mateo left, silence settled over us. The twins remained on either side of me, their presence oddly comforting despite my lingering wariness.

"You should rest," Jackson said finally, moving to stand.

I surprised myself by catching his wrist. "Stay. Both of you." At their startled expressions, I added hastily, "Just... nearby. I don't want to be alone right now."

Something like hope flickered in Maison's eyes. "Of course."

They settled into chairs on either side of the bed, their protective positions stirring something warm in my chest. As exhaustion pulled me back toward sleep, Star's contentment washed through me like a gentle tide.

-Pack,- she murmured. -Home.-

"Not yet," I whispered as darkness claimed me. "But maybe someday."

When I next woke, the room was bathed in moonlight. Jackson dozed in his chair, his usually perfect posture softened by sleep. Maison was awake, his gaze fixed on the night sky visible through the window.

I stirred, drawing his attention immediately.

"Better?" he asked softly.

I nodded, surprised to find it was true. The bone-deep exhaustion had receded, leaving only the expected soreness of healing injuries.

"Hungry," I admitted.

A genuine smile touched his lips. "I can fix that."

He moved to a small table I hadn't noticed before, returning with a covered tray. When he removed the lid, the scent that wafted from it instantly made my mouth water.

"Your recipe," he explained, setting the tray across my waist, “we found it in that little black book that was in the guest room you were staying in. I noticed that there were notes on an online book that the writer Silver Star was writing. Sorry, we shouldn’t have looked, but it was open on the floor.”

I froze, heat rising to my cheeks. "You read my notebook?"

"Not intentionally," Maison said quickly. "It fell open when I was gathering your things. I just saw the recipe and... well, Jackson thought it might help you feel better."

I glanced at the still-sleeping Jackson, then back to the steaming bowl of soup—my mother's recipe, one of the few things I had left of her. The rich aroma of herbs and spices filled the air, exactly as I remembered it.

"You made this?" I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.

Maison rubbed the back of his neck, an uncharacteristically uncertain gesture that I almost smiled. "I tried. The kitchen staff helped. I'm not exactly... talented in that area. But I think I have found a reason to learn."

I took a tentative spoonful, the familiar flavours washing over me like a memory. It wasn't perfect—the balance of spices was slightly off—but the effort behind it touched something in me that I'd thought long buried.

"It's good," I said softly. "Thank you."

Maison's relief was palpable. He settled back in his chair as I continued eating, watching me with an intensity that should have been uncomfortable but somehow wasn't.

"The Silver Star stories," he said after a moment. "They're yours?"

I nearly choked on my soup. "You weren't supposed to see that part."

"They're incredible," he said simply. "The way you've built that world, the characters... I've read them all, you know. Under your pen name."

I set my spoon down, stunned. "You've read my stories? Since when?"

"Since they first appeared online three years ago," he admitted. "I didn't know they were yours until today, but I've been religiously following Silver Star's work."

The idea that Maison Steel—stoic, intimidating Alpha—had been secretly reading my fantasy fiction for years was so absurd I almost laughed.

"You're serious."

He nodded, a hint of embarrassment colouring his features. "Your protagonist—the outcast wolf-shifter finding her power—she reminded me of someone. Now I understand why."

I looked down at my soup, unsure how to process this new information. My stories had been my most private escape, a world where I controlled the narrative, where outcast heroines found their strength and their place. The thought that Maison had been reading them all along, connecting with them without knowing they were mine, felt oddly intimate.

"Does Jackson know?" I asked.

"That I read fantasy fiction?" Maison's mouth quirked. "No. It's not exactly in keeping with the serious Alpha image."

For the first time in years, I found myself genuinely smiling at him. "Your secret's safe with me."

The moment hung between us, fragile and new. Then Jackson stirred, blinking awake with the alertness of a born predator.

"Your Silver Star? Think Dean and Carter are going to have a heartache, both of them don’t know how to shut up about your novels when you only upload like three chapters at a time at most.”

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Dean and Carter read my novels? The same guys who couldn't stop calling me a stray?"

"Religiously," Jackson confirmed with a wry smile. "They have a whole theory about who Silver Star might be. Last I heard, they thought it was some mysterious she-wolf from the Northern territories."

The thought of Dean—arrogant, dismissive Dean—eagerly awaiting chapters of my fantasy series was almost too much to process. I shook my head, setting the now-empty soup bowl aside.

"This is surreal," I murmured. "Everything's changing so fast."

"Not everything," Maison said quietly. "Some things have been constant all along."

His eyes met mine, and that now-familiar warmth pulsed from the bracelet on my wrist. I looked away first, not ready to acknowledge what he was implying.

"I need to see the Graystone wolves today," I said, changing the subject. "And figure out what happens next."

Jackson nodded, accepting my deflection. "Do you want us with you when you meet them?"

The question gave me pause. My instinct was to handle it alone, as I'd handled everything for years. But something in me hesitated, a new awareness that perhaps I didn't have to.

"Yes," I decided. "But not as potential mates. As... allies."

The twins exchanged a glance that spoke volumes before Maison nodded. "Allies, it is."

With their help, I managed to shower and dress in clothes that had been brought from my apartment—simple black jeans and a soft blue sweater that made my eyes look stormy. The pendant rested visibly against my throat, a clear symbol of my new status.

The meeting was arranged in one of the smaller council chambers. As I entered, flanked by the Steel twins, six Graystone wolves rose to their feet. Their expressions ranged from cautious hope to thinly veiled scepticism as they took in my bandaged wounds and the protective stance of my companions.

Elder Miriam stepped forward first—a dignified woman with silver-streaked dark hair who had once been my father's most trusted advisor. She dropped to one knee, head bowed in a formal show of submission.

"Alpha Graystone," she said, her voice steady despite the emotion I could see in her eyes. "We welcome your return."

The others followed suit one by one, including two men I recognised with a jolt—Robert and Elijah, who had once been part of my childhood Alpha unit. The boys who had tormented me now knelt before me as men, their postures rigid with tension.

"Rise," I said, uncomfortable with the display. "This isn't a formal audience."

They stood, but remained deferential, eyes lowered. Miriam spoke for the group.

"We represent those within the Graystone pack who remained loyal to your father's memory," She said.

I laughed, “Sorry if I find that hard to believe, even after all these years of being at first an outcast within my own pack, nearly killed by two of you in this room who were meant to be a part of my own Alpha Unit. Let me guess, you two boys get bored once you no longer have anyone to attack and leave scars on?”

Robert winced visibly, his face paling. "Alpha, we—"

"Don't," I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy every moment of it."