MasukBRAHAM’S POVThe Council chamber was a cathedral of judgment, and today, I was the one presiding over the trial of our future. As I stood before the heavy oak doors, I could feel the vibrations of a hundred restless wolves through the stone beneath my boots. The air was thick with the scent of predatory skepticism—a sharp, metallic tang of doubt that usually preceded a kill.I looked at Millie. She was dressed in a simple, elegant wrap-dress of deep emerald green. To the Council, it was a regal choice; to us, it was a tactical one. We had planned for every second of this."Steady," I whispered, leaning down so my breath brushed her ear. I was in full Alpha-King regalia, the weight of the ceremonial furs and the ancient signet ring feeling heavier than usual. I wasn't just her mate today; I was the wall between her and the vultures waiting inside. I let my aura bleed out, a heavy, crushing pressure designed to remind every wolf in that room exactly who held the crown.The doors swun
MILLIE'S POVThe wheels of the private plane hit the tarmac with a definitive screech, a sound that felt like a gavel coming down on my time in Spain. I’d dozed for most of the flight, my body aching in ways I hadn't known possible.Shifting isn’t just a physical change; it’s also a spiritual exhaustion. Rylee was still new, a restless, silver-furred force of nature inside my mind, and every time I returned to human form, I felt like I’d been put through a professional-grade dehydrator.You’ll get stronger, Rylee’s voice echoed in the back of my head, sounding smug and powerful. We just need practice. Your skin is still learning how to stretch for me.Beside me, Leo was a whirlwind of energy, completely unfazed by the long flight. He was chattering a mile a minute to Vicente, pointing out the window at the sprawling American skyline. Behind us, the three Spanish elders—Mateo, Elena, and Diego—sat in a stoic triangle, their low Spanish murmurs a steady hum beneath the roar of the engi
ROY HUNTER’S POV"They've been gone for days," Vivian said, her pacing more frantic than usual. The sharp click of her heels against my office floorboards sounded like a countdown I didn't want to hear. "No ceremony date announced. No public appearances. The Alpha King just... vanished with his mate and half his inner circle. Does he really think he can just put the entire Pack Council on hold while he plays tourist?""Not vanished. Traveling." I leaned back in my leather chair, staring at the map pinned to my wall. I preferred the term maneuvering. Braham Gothan didn't do anything without a tactical purpose. "Will Reid's office filed a formal notice with the High Council stating that Millie-Rose Harvey-Gothan needed to 'attend to family matters' before the ceremony could proceed. It’s a legal stalling tactic, but a valid one under the Old Laws.""What family matters?" Vivian stopped, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with that familiar, sharp irritation. "Her father's in a
MILLIE'S POVTwo days later, Vicente called us together after breakfast."He decidido," (I have decided,) he announced, "que iré a Estados Unidos contigo." (that I will go to America with you.) He looked at me. "Para presentarte formalmente a la manada de tu compañero. Para darles mi bendición como tu abuelo y como Beta de Silverpine Ridge." (To formally present you to your mate's pack. To give them my blessing as your grandfather and as Beta of Silverpine Ridge.)My heart leapt. "¿De verdad?" (Really?)"De verdad. Y traeré ancianos de la familia. Representación adecuada." (Really. And I will bring family elders. Proper representation.) He smiled. "No puedes enfrentarte a ese Consejo sola. Eres Oslo. Vienes con tu manada detrás de ti." (You cannot face that Council alone. You are Oslo. You come with your pack behind you.)"Cuando?" (When?) Braham asked."Mañana. Reservaremos vuelos hoy." (Tomorrow. We will book flights today.) Vicente looked at his wife. "Millie se quedará aquí para
MILLIE'S POVMy grandmother—Abuela Millie, as she insisted I call her—didn't let go of my hand for the rest of that first day.She led me through the pack house, showing me everything. "Esta era la habitación de tu madre." (This was your mother's room.) She opened a door to reveal a not-so-big bedroom, preserved exactly as Juana had left it twenty-eight years ago. A bed with a handmade quilt. Books in Spanish and English on shelves. A hairbrush still sitting on a dresser."She love to read," grandma said, switching to heavily accented English for my benefit. "Siempre con un libro. Incluso cuando se suponía que debía estar entrenando o ayudando con las tareas del paquete, la encontrábamos en un árbol en algún lugar, leyendo". (Always with a book. Even when she was supposed to be training or helping with pack duties, we would find her in a tree somewhere, reading.)I picked up one of the books—a worn copy of poetry. LA HISTORIA DE UNA CHICA VAGABUNDA. (THE TALE OF A WANDERING GIRL.) My
MILLIE'S POVBeside him sat a woman with silver hair pulled back in a braid, her hand gripping the arm of her chair so tightly her knuckles were white. Her eyes—the same shape as my mother's, the same shape as mine—were already filled with tears.My grandmother."Abuelo," (Grandfather,) I said, my voice trembling. "Soy Millie-Rose. La hija de Juana." (I'm Millie-Rose. Juana's daughter.)For a long moment, no one moved. No one breathed.Then my grandmother made a sound—something between a sob and a gasp—and stood so quickly her chair scraped against the floor."¿Juana?" (Juana?) she whispered, taking a step forward. "No, no... eres su hija. Eres..." (No, no... you're her daughter. You are...) She pressed her hand to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. "Eres nuestra nieta." (You are our granddaughter.)"Sí, abuela." (Yes, grandmother.) My own tears started falling. "Vine. Finalmente vine." (I came. I finally came.)Vicente stood slowly, his movements deliberate. His voice was roug
BRAHAM'S POVI knew Millie was planning something.She'd been too quiet since we left Will Reid's office. Too compliant. The woman who'd stood up to Sabrina yesterday, who'd fought her way back from four years of exile, who'd faced down Martha…that woman didn't just sit quietly and wait for investi
MILLIE'S POVWill Reid's office was nothing like I expected.I'd imagined something sleek and modern, maybe intimidating. Instead, we were sitting in a converted brownstone in a quiet neighborhood, surrounded by filing cabinets, whiteboards covered in notes, and stacks of case files that looked lik
MILLIE'S POVThe second drawer contained financial records. Bank statements. Investment portfolios. Receipts.I pulled out folders at random, my hands still shaking from the letters we'd found. Everything was meticulously organized…my mother was thorough.And then I found it.A folder marked "House
MILLIE'S POVThe Oslo mansion looked different in the morning light.I'd lived here for most of my childhood, but standing in front of it now felt like facing a stranger. It didn’t even feel like I’d been here since my return home. The ivy climbing the stone walls seemed overgrown, almost menacing







