MasukMorgan’s POV:
I wasn't exaggerating when I said Allison liked playing fashionista with me.
Angeline had changed my hairstyle three fucking times.
Three.
My neck hurt from repositioning my head over and over, my back was as stiff as a broomstick, and somehow, we were only halfway done.
The worst part?
Allison was more concerned about my appearance than her own.
"Maybe pull this section back."
Angeline paused.
"No. Wait." Allison tilted her head, studying me like I was a mannequin in a store window. "Leave those pieces around her face."
I stared at her through the mirror.
"Are you done?"
"No."
"Of course you're not."
She ignored me.
I loved looking pretty as much as the next girl. I was girly in my own way.
But Allison?
She operated on an entirely different level.
Model level.
Fashion-week level.
The kind of woman who probably coordinated her underwear with her fucking earrings.
I glanced at the clock.
Four-thirty.
"Allison."
"I know."
"No, you don't. It's four-thirty."
Her eyes widened.
"Shit."
Exactly.
Angeline hadn't even finished our makeup, and we still had to return to the Pack House and change into our gowns.
Allison refused to change at the salon because she wanted Usher to be the first person to see her in her fancy black gown.
Besides me, obviously.
I'd already seen the damn thing.
Unless she planned on blindfolding me while she changed.
Fuck no.
If she wanted to keep things a surprise, she should've left me home to mind my own goddamn business.
Which I would have preferred.
I needed more sleep.
A quiet place.
Not a fucking venue the size of a stadium.
Tonight's Wolf-Ball was being held at Willow Grove, the largest and most prestigious venue in our Pack. It could accommodate nearly five hundred guests, and was the same place where Allison and Usher had held their wedding reception a few years earlier.
My chest tightened at the memory.
Dad had still been alive then.
I'd spent half the reception trying to convince him to dance with me.
He kept refusing because he claimed his knees were too old for whatever the hell Usher's DJ was playing.
Eventually, I dragged him onto the dance floor anyway.
I smiled faintly.
Shit.
Another memory I wasn't prepared for.
"You miss him," Kira whispered.
"Every fucking day."
She went quiet.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and returned my attention to my phone.
According to everything Allison had told me, tonight's setup was ridiculous.
Three open bars—which, considering the direction my emotions were headed, sounded like the best part of the entire evening.
The royal section would occupy the right wing of the ballroom, with tables reserved for the King and Queen and the twenty-nine Alphas of the Eastern Kingdom, along with their mates.
Betas, Gammas, and Deltas had their own designated section.
The left side belonged to the dance floor.
And apparently, Allison and Luna Gloria had decided a regular DJ wasn't impressive enough for royalty.
They'd brought in DJ Sapphire from Great Britain.
The man had millions of followers on Facegram, and two of his songs—Love Affair and Kiss Me Till Morning—had lived on my favorite playlist for months.
Okay.
Maybe the ball wouldn't completely suck.
Outside, Ann Chan, a famous cellist, would perform beneath the gazebo for guests who preferred something quieter. The patio and gardens had also been transformed for the occasion.
I hadn't seen any of it yet, but knowing Allison?
The place probably looked like the Moon Goddess herself had descended from the heavens and personally decorated it.
More than a hundred people had worked on tonight's event.
An international chef had been brought in.
Additional security had been assigned.
Even the menu had supposedly been designed around information Luna Gloria had received regarding the royal family's preferences.
All for one evening.
No pressure whatsoever.
"Well?" Angeline suddenly asked.
My chair spun around.
"What do you think?"
I finally looked up from my phone.
And froze.
"Wait."
I leaned closer to the mirror.
"Is that... me?"
Angeline laughed.
My long blonde hair fell in soft, defined waves down my back. Two delicate braids swept away from my face and joined behind my head, decorated with tiny flowers that complemented my gown.
It almost looked like a crown.
Not an actual one.
More like something you'd expect to see on a girl running barefoot through a field in some ridiculous romantic movie.
And I fucking loved it.
"Oh, Angeline."
I turned my head carefully.
"This is beautiful."
"I told you to trust me."
"I trusted you." I pointed accusingly at Allison. "Her? Not so much."
"Excuse me?"
"You changed my hair three times."
"Because I wanted it perfect."
"It's hair, Alli. Not heart surgery."
She gasped.
Angeline laughed.
I stared at my reflection again.
Now I regretted agreeing to change at the Pack House. One wrong move pulling that olive-green gown over my head and this masterpiece was going to become a bird's nest.
"We have to go!" Allison suddenly shrieked.
I slowly turned toward her.
She was already gathering her things.
I looked at Angeline.
Angeline looked at me.
Then we both looked at Allison.
"You have some fucking nerve," I said.
"What?"
"You've been terrorizing this poor woman for hours, and now we're running late?"
"I'm the Luna. I'm allowed to be demanding."
"That's not how that works."
"It is today."
She grabbed my hand.
"Move."
"We haven't even—"
"Angeline finished your makeup while you were staring at your phone."
I blinked.
Oh.
Well.
Apparently, I really had been distracted.
"Thank you so much, Angeline!" Allison shouted as she practically dragged me toward the door. "You're the best!"
"She's going to dislocate my shoulder!" I called behind us.
Angeline's laughter followed us out.
"We only have an hour," Allison said as we hurried toward the car. "Usher just told me everyone is arriving."
"Which is exactly why I've been telling you to hurry up for the past two hours."
"I was hurrying."
"You changed my hair three times."
"Because the first two weren't right."
I stared at her.
She stared back.
There was absolutely no remorse in that woman's face.
"You're impossible."
"And you're beautiful. You're welcome."
I rolled my eyes and climbed into the car.
Usher had already mind-linked her with an update. Nearly all twenty-nine Alphas had arrived, along with their Lunas and delegations.
A few of the unmated Alphas were attending alone—including Alejandro Zorrento of Shallow Moon, Wilfred Stevens of Forest Moon, and Marcus Lovine of Little Creek.
They were still waiting for their Goddess-given mates.
Lucky them.
At least they had the patience for it.
Me?
Apparently, patience had never been one of my virtues.
And considering the way Kira suddenly shifted restlessly inside me...
I had a feeling she was about to remind me of that all fucking night.
I was a little skeptical about having so many unmated Alphas arriving at our Pack.
There was always the slightest possibility that one of them could turn out to be my mate.
The chances were teeny-tiny.
Still.
My brain had a wonderful habit of finding the worst possible scenario and turning it into something I could obsess over.
As a matter of fact, any unmated male made me a little nervous these days. Not because I was afraid of him, exactly.
I was afraid of what finding him could mean.
I'd finally come home.
The last thing I wanted was for fate to show up and tell me I belonged somewhere else.
Two other Alphas, Carl and Silvious, had already taken chosen mates after reaching their early thirties without finding their Goddess-given ones.
Apparently, patience had limits even among Alphas.
"Dimples, you better stay away from the unmated Alphas tonight," Allison teased as we hurried back to the Pack House. "One of them might decide he likes what he sees."
I laughed.
"You don't want to end up getting mark tonight."
That made my laugh vanish almost instantly.
She stared at me.
I frowned at her.
"I don't think Ryan would appreciate that."
Her expression shifted slightly.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
I did.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"Allison."
She sighed. "What's going on with you and Ryan?"
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." She hesitated. "You've been weird every time his name comes up."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again.
Maybe I had.
"I've had a crush on him since I was sixteen," I admitted. "You know that. And when I finished school, I thought... why not? I'm finally coming home. I'm done studying. Maybe I should allow myself to be happy."
"But?"
Of course she heard the fucking but.
"But Ryan wants things to become serious much faster than I expected."
Allison's teasing disappeared.
"How serious?"
"Chosen-mate serious."
Her eyebrows rose.
"Already?"
"Exactly."
I released a breath.
"He's handsome. I care about him. We've known each other forever. But I told him before we started dating that I wasn't ready to rush into anything. I thought he understood that."
"And now?"
I thought about the way he'd been talking lately.
Our future.
Our home.
Marking me.
All those fucking whens instead of ifs.
"Now I'm not so sure."
Allison studied me for a moment.
"Then don't let him rush you."
Simple.
Direct.
Very Allison.
"I won't."
"Good."
"I also told him I'm not having sex with him before we're fully committed. That's important to me."
"And he knows that?"
"Yes."
"Then he needs to respect it."
I nodded.
That should've been the end of it.
Unfortunately, this was Allison.
"Although..." A wicked little smile appeared on her face. "Once you do finally have sex, you're going to understand why Usher and I—"
"No."
She burst out laughing.
"Let me finish!"
"I don't want you to finish."
"Morgan!"
"I already know entirely too much about your sex life."
"You don't know anything."
"I know enough to never sit in the back seat of Usher's car again."
Her mouth dropped open.
Then she laughed so loudly I couldn't help joining her.
"Fine," she said. "I'll spare your innocent little ears."
"Thank you."
"For now."
"Allison!"
She laughed again.
By the time we made it back to the Pack House, we were cutting it dangerously close.
We hurried upstairs, slipped into our gowns, and helped zip each other up before adding the final accessories.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror.
And went still.
Okay.
Maybe dragging me through the mall hadn't been such a terrible idea.
The olive-green gown hugged my body beautifully before falling into a soft A-line skirt that brushed the floor. Delicate lace appliqués covered portions of the tulle, and the sleeveless design showed just enough skin without making me feel like Allison had dressed me for an auction.
Combined with my hair and makeup...
Holy shit.
I looked like a princess.
"We look beautiful," Kira murmured.
I smiled.
"Yes, we do."
For once, we agreed.
I turned slightly, watching the skirt move around my legs.
Olive green was officially one of my favorite colors.
Mom would've loved this.
The thought came quietly this time.
Not like a knife.
More like an ache.
She would've been following me around with a camera by now, ordering me to stand by the window, turn sideways, smile again, take one with Alex, take another because somebody blinked.
My throat tightened.
I touched the delicate flowers woven into my hair.
"She would've thought we looked beautiful too," Kira whispered.
I swallowed.
"I know."
"Dimples."
I looked over.
Allison was standing behind me in her black gown.
And damn.
"Usher is going to lose his fucking mind."
Her face lit up.
"You think?"
"Girl, please. He's probably going to forget there's a King coming."
She laughed.
We took a few selfies together before grabbing our things and rushing downstairs.
The limo had already been waiting far longer than it should've been.
"We're late," I said.
"We're not late."
"We're practically late."
"There's a difference."
"Not to my brother."
That got her moving.
We hurried outside, carefully lifting our gowns as we climbed into the limo.
My stomach fluttered as the door closed behind us.
Probably nerves.
There were hundreds of wolves gathering at Willow Grove.
Alphas.
Lunas.
Warriors.
Elders.
Royalty.
And more than a few unmated males.
I looked down at my hands.
Tonight was supposed to be nothing more than a ball.
A few drinks.
Okay, maybe more than a few.
Some dancing. Not sure these shoes can keep me on my feet all night long.
A ridiculously expensive dinner.
Then I'd come home, kick off these heels, and sleep for twelve fucking hours.
Simple.
At least...
That was the plan.
Damian’s POV: Our wolves were ready to kill.Alpha Tobias and several of his best warriors had come to join us, and I was fucking grateful for that.He was proving his allegiance to me as his King, but more importantly, he was proving his loyalty to the Kingdom.To its future Queen.And right now, that meant more to me than any oath he could ever make before the Crown.The warriors surrounded us, waiting.Every wolf was tense.Every muscle prepared.Every eye focused on that fucking cabin.Bruce paced violently beneath my skin.“She's in there.”I fucking knew.Even though I couldn't feel Kira.Even though I couldn't smell Morgan.Even though the mate bond still felt like someone had ripped a fucking hole through my chest—She was in there.She had to be.I looked at Tobias and his warriors.“On my signal.”They waited attentively.No one moved.No one fucking breathed.I shifted.Bruce tore through me with so much force that the transformation hurt more than usual, but neither one o
Damian’s POV:I had never done drugs in my life, but from the way people described the crash after a high, I imagined it felt something like this.My body was fucking shutting down.I couldn't sit still, yet I barely had the strength to stand. Sweat coated the back of my neck even though I felt cold. My stomach kept twisting with nausea, and my heart was beating so violently against my chest that it felt like the damn thing was trying to break through my rib cage.My body was crashing.My spirit was crumbling.And I didn't know how much of it belonged to me anymore.That was what terrified me.Was this my fear?Or hers?I literally had the entire fucking kingdom looking for my mate. Every Alpha had been alerted. Borders were being secured. Warriors were searching roads, forests, abandoned properties—anywhere that son of a bitch could have taken her.At this point, I didn't even care who found Ryan.I didn't care who put him on the ground.I didn't even care if someone else killed the
Alexandre’s POV: The bond between soulmates was supposed to be the merging of minds, hearts, and spirits.It wasn't simply love at first sight, like everyone made it sound.It was deeper than that.Two souls recognizing one another.Two lives connected by something that transcended distance, time, logic—everything.The Moon Goddess didn't simply pair two people together.She bound them.And after watching King Damian for the last several hours, I finally understood just how fucking powerful that bond could become.I'd only met the man a couple of days ago, but there was no mistaking what Morgan's absence was doing to him.I could see the agony on his face.The anguish.The way his entire body seemed to tighten whenever something happened with the bond.Sometimes he'd suddenly clutch his chest or go completely still, like he was feeling something none of us could.And I knew he was.Somehow, even with Morgan physically far away from him, Damian was feeling pieces of what my sister was
Morgan’s POV: ***Sexual violence warning.***The hours were passing so fucking slowly that I had stopped trying to keep track of them.Ryan kept hitting me.Sometimes with his fists.Sometimes with the fucking taser.At some point, pain stopped having individual names. My ribs hurt. My face hurt. My muscles hurt. My head throbbed so violently that every beat of my heart sent another pulse through my skull.My entire body was wracked with torture.And for the first time in my life, death was beginning to feel less frightening than whatever Ryan planned to do next.Especially after he injected me with more wolfsbane.Again.I didn't know how much of that shit he'd already pushed into my body, and judging by the careless way he kept using it, neither did he. He wasn't trying to keep me safely subdued.He was poisoning me.My body had already stopped cooperating. I could barely lift my head, much less fight him.What more did he fucking want?I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through
Alexander’s POV: The day our mother died, Morgan was sitting on the front porch.I was in the kitchen preparing dinner while Dad was out with Alpha John.I remembered everything about that fucking afternoon.The smell of dinner cooking.The music playing quietly in the kitchen.Morgan outside, completely lost in reading her favorite novel — a book she'd read at least a dozen times before.And then Usher's voice entered my head.“Alex, bring Morgan inside.”That was it.Four words.But his voice was broken.Usher didn't need to tell me something was wrong.I knew.My stomach dropped instantly, but when I looked through the window and saw Morgan sitting peacefully on the porch, I couldn't let her see it.Not yet.“Princess, come check what I just pulled out of the oven,” I called.She lifted her head from her book.“I can smell it from here!”“Then get your little ass inside before I eat it all.”That worked.She closed her book and came bouncing into the kitchen with that joyful smile
Damian’s POV: I reached Morgan's house and practically slammed my finger against the fucking doorbell.Once.Twice.Again.“Morgan!”Nothing.I rang it again.“Morgan!”No footsteps.No movement inside.No beautiful blonde opening the door with sleepy blue eyes, wondering why the fuck I'd come back after barely leaving her.Nothing.My legs threatened to give out beneath me.My heart pounded so violently that I could hear it inside my ears, each beat as loud as a fucking old drum.Meanwhile, Bruce was trying to crawl his way out of me.The savage beast wanted control.“KIRA!”His roar rattled my skull.“KIRA!”Nothing.“Thomas, try the back door.”I rang the bell two more times before grabbing the doorknob.Locked.“Fuck.”I twisted it harder anyway.Then something else registered.The lights.Every fucking light was off.Even the front porch lights.My stomach dropped.They'd been on when I left.I remembered standing beneath them while kissing Morgan goodnight.Remembered looking b







