MasukBRAHAM’S POVThe white-hot sting of my venom was still vibrating through our connected senses, a beautiful, agonizing current that bound her soul completely to mine. I lay spent beneath her on the heavy furs, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath, my arms wrapped loosely around Millie's waist. Her face was buried in the curve of my neck, her breathing shallow and rapid. The mark I had just carved into her shoulder was fresh and swollen, sealing her place as my Queen under the eyes of the old laws.But her wolf wasn't satisfied.Before I could even adjust to the sudden, overwhelming rush of her presence in my mind, I felt a shift in our link. The ancient, fierce blood of the Iberian packs running through her veins began to simmer. A true Luna of Silverpine Ridge heritage wasn't just a passive recipient of an Alpha's claim. She was an equal predator.Millie suddenly gripped my shoulders, her fingers digging deep into my skin with a strength that caught me entirely off guard. S
MILLIE’S POVThe dawn didn't break with a burst of gold; it crept into the sky in shades of deep, bruised violet and charcoal grey. The air in the sacred grove at the edge of the pack’s territory was biting, carrying the thick, damp scent of pine needle earth and ancient stone.I stood at the perimeter of the ritual circle, my skin tingling under the weight of the traditional ceremonial attire. This time, there was no white silk or lace. I wore a heavy, midnight-black velvet tunic embroidered with thick silver threading along the collarbone, paired with a matching deep crimson cloak that pooled around my shoes. The fabric felt anchoring, a stark contrast to the vulnerability pulsing through my veins.The ceremony itself was quiet, stripped of the human pageantry of our first wedding. There were no cameras, no societal guests, and no superficial applause. Instead, the high elders of the North American Wolf Council stood in a semicircle, their ancient, heavy alphas' auras pressing agai
MILLIE’S POVThe digital tide didn't just turn; it shattered against the sea wall my grandfather had built.By noon the following day, the venomous headlines about "blood money" and my supposed heartlessness were systematically buried under a massive, international wave of legal intrigue. The American media outlets, initially obsessed with the tabloid drama of Martha’s tragedy and parsing through the premature birth, were forced to pivot violently to keep up with the breaking news filtering in from Madrid, and the North American Wolf Council.INTERNATIONAL EXTRADITION SOUGHT: Silverpine Ridge Demands Sabrina Norman Face Spanish Pack JusticeRECLAIMING JUANA: How a Forgotten Pack Murder is Rewriting Werewolf JurisdictionA COMPLICATED LEGACY: Heiress Millie-Rose Harvey Unites Trans-Atlantic Packs in Quest for Mother's JusticeI sat in the living room, the heavy velvet curtains thrown wide to let the crisp sunlight stream over the polished center table. For the first time in what felt
MILLIE'S POVThe headlines hit within hours."GUILT MONEY: Millie-Rose Harvey-Gothan Pays for Half-Sister's Life-Saving Surgery""Too Little, Too Late? Werewolf Heiress Opens Wallet After Driving Sister to Suicide""Blood Money: Ms Harvey Attempts to Buy Redemption"The comments were vicious."She's only paying because she knows she's guilty. If she hadn't filed those legal threats, Martha wouldn't have tried to kill herself.""Money doesn't erase what she did. That baby is premature because of HER." "This is what guilty people do. They throw money at problems they created."I forced myself to stop reading and focus on ceremony preparations. But the barrage didn't stop.Then someone leaked the ceremony date."BREAKING: Millie-Rose Harvey-Gothan to Wed Alpha King in Traditional Werewolf Ceremony This Weekend"And the internet exploded."Her sister is having emergency surgery and she's planning another WEDDING? Another party? How many parties in a row?"“Since the beginning of this yea
SILAS'S POVThe surgical waiting room was too bright. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, sterile and unforgiving. I'd been sitting in the same plastic chair for three hours, watching the clock tick forward with agonizing slowness.Martha was in surgery.The words still didn't feel real.When the doctors had pulled me aside yesterday morning to explain that her kidney was failing—that the suicide attempt had done more damage than they'd initially realized, that toxins had been accumulating in her system, that without emergency surgery she would die within days—I'd felt the world tilt sideways."How much?" I'd asked, because that was always the first question now. Everything came down to money."The surgery alone is approximately fifty thousand dollars. With ICU recovery, medications, follow-up care... you're looking at seventy to eighty thousand. Possibly more if there are complications."I didn't have seventy dollars, let alone seventy thousand.I'd lost my job three weeks ago. Too m
MILLIE'S POVThe dining room table was covered in papers—ceremony protocols, guest lists, traditional pack law documents that Vicente and Elena were patiently explaining to me. Leo was with Mateo, learning Spanish children's songs in the next room. His laughter drifted through the open door."La novia debe entrar desde el oeste," (The bride must enter from the west,) Elena was saying, pointing to a diagram. "Siguiendo el camino de la luna. Es tradición desde..." (Following the path of the moon. It has been tradition since...)My phone buzzed on the table. Unknown number.I glanced at it, intending to ignore it. Unknown numbers were usually reporters trying to get quotes, or worse, people with opinions about my "heartlessness" regarding Martha.But something made me hesitate. An instinct. A feeling I couldn't name.I picked up. "Hello?""Millie?" The voice was strained, desperate, barely recognizable. "I'm sorry to call, I know you don't want to hear from me, but I don't know what else
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT: The CalmMILLIE'S POV"Mama, look! I made a dragon with my blocks!"I turned from where I was making sandwiches to find Leo standing proudly beside an elaborate structure that looked somewhat like a wolf with wings—his interpretation of a dragon."That's amazing, baby!" I cros
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN: Choices and ComfortCALLIE'S POVRenan arrived at my apartment twenty minutes later, concern written all over his face."What happened?" he asked the moment I opened the door. "Are you hurt? Did someone…""I'm fine. Come in." I pulled him inside and locked the door behind us,
CALLIE'S POV The restaurant was one of those upscale places with cloth napkins and prices that made me wince—Renan's choice, not mine. But he'd insisted on treating me to a nice lunch after the stress of the past few weeks, and I wasn't about to argue. I was early, as usual, sitting at a corner
BRAHAM'S POVLast night I couldn't sleep. I stayed still so Millie would think I was sleeping, letting her process her thoughts without trying to be strong for me. When she finally slept, I was able to check Renan's messages: Emergency Council session scheduled. Three days from now, 10 AM.I repli







