LOGINRosalie’s POVElder Vane’s chest heaved with suppressed rage, his face mottling into an ugly shade of crimson. But as he looked into Beta Thomas’s unyielding, golden eyes, he recognized the absolute truth behind the threat: Thomas would cut him down on this very stone, and no political rank would save him.With a sharp, humiliated jerk, Vane pulled his wrist free the moment Thomas loosened his iron grip. He adjusted his silk sleeves, trembling with fury, before turning his venomous glare back to me."You think you can play King and Queen while he lies bleeding?" Vane sneered, his voice thin and sharp. "The Council will hear of this insubordination. You are holding up the high business of Central, child. When the King wakes—if he wakes—he will be enraged to know his Luna crippled the pack’s governance out of sheer stubbornness.""The King put his life on the line to defend this pack, Elder Vane," I replied, stepping up directly alongside Thomas, my head held high,
Rosalie’s POVThe sharp, metallic stench of fresh blood hung heavy in the air of the royal medical wing.I sat motionlessly on a cold, carved stone bench outside the double oak doors of the central surgical bay, staring down at my hands. They were entirely stained crimson—Dominic’s blood dried into the tight creases of my knuckles, flaking beneath my fingernails, stiffening the dark wool of my skirts.Doctors rushed past in frantic, blurred movements. Every time those heavy doors cracked open, the sound of raw, agonizing monitors and hushed, panicked voices spilled out into the quiet corridor.*Moon-Silver.*The word echoed in my mind like a rhythmic death toll. It didn't just cut; it poisoned, burning away the wolf's flesh from the inside out and shutting down the natural, miraculous regeneration that made Alphas seem immortal. Dominic had taken that toxic metal directly into his chest and spine. For me.A young attendant had approached me twice with a
Rosalie’s POVThe heavy iron doors of the glasshouse clicked shut behind us, sealing away the warm, sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine and the quiet sanctuary we had built within its glass walls.Out here, on the narrow cliffside path winding down toward the main citadel, the air was crisp, cold, and sharp. The late afternoon sun was beginning to bleed into a deep crimson horizon, painting the towering pines of the Grand Forest in long, ink-black shadows.My lips still burned with the quiet, devastating truth of his kiss.Every step I took beside Dominic felt weightless, yet grounded in a way I hadn't experienced since I was a child. The wide, empty chasm that had separated us for weeks felt bridged—not by a contract, not by royal duty, but by a single, agonizingly honest surrender.Dominic walked closely beside me, his long stride matching mine with an unhurried, gentle grace. The heavy leather armor and broad royal mantle were still absent; he wore only
Rosalie’s POVWe spent the early morning in the quiet sanctuary of the royal bedroom, sharing a slow, peaceful breakfast of hot tea, toasted bread, and fresh fruit brought up from the kitchens. There were no urgent reports stacked beside Dominic’s plate, no heavy silence, and no lingering shadows in the corners of the room. But as the afternoon sun rose higher, casting golden light across the floorboards, Dominic had set his teacup down and looked at me with a rare, quiet softeness in his eyes. He suggested stepping away from the main citadel entirely—away from the eyes of the pack, the whispers of the guards, and the suffocating weight of his crown—to spend the rest of the day in the private cliffside glasshouse.The glasshouse sat perched on the highest eastern cliff of the royal estate, a towering sanctuary of iron and arched glass completely isolated from the main palace. Beneath the soaring panes, the air was warm, sweet, and heavy with the scent of night-blooming jas
Rosalie’s POVThe silver light of the full moon was beginning to fray at the edges, giving way to the cold, pale pink mist of dawn creeping through the ancient pines of the Grand Forest.For hours, the woods had belonged to us.There was no fear in the run, no desperate flee from a tyrant, no blood on the snow. For the first time in his life, Dominic’s wolf was not a violent prisoner raging against iron chains in a dark basement. He was free. And beneath the soaring canopy of dark spruce, the synchronization between us had been breathtaking.As a silver-white wolf, I flew over the damp, mossy earth, my paws barely making a sound. Beside me, the massive shadow of Dominic’s black wolf matched my stride effortlessly. He was gigantic—a terrifying, corded beast of raw royal muscle—yet every movement he made around me was laced with an overwhelming, desperate tenderness.He didn't try to lead or herd me. Instead, he ran just half a pace behind, his broad shoulder occasionally brushing
Rosalie’s POVThe heavy wooden door of our bedroom clicked shut, and the absolute silence of the royal quarters felt like a physical weight pressing down on us. The adrenaline that had carried us through the high-stakes confrontation with Eric and the formal theater of the Great Hall evaporated in an instant, leaving behind a bone-deep, staggering exhaustion.Neither of us spoke. We were too tired for words, our bodies operating on pure, sluggish instinct.Dominic shed his heavy, ruined leather vest, letting it drop to the floor with a dull thud. I kicked off my muddy scout boots, peeling away the damp, heavy socks until my bare feet met the cool, polished wood. We didn't change into proper nightwear; we didn't have the energy. We merely stripped down to our basic, comfortable undergarments, moving like ghosts in the dim daylight filtering through the heavy drapes.When we got to the massive, king-sized bed, the unspoken barrier between us was louder than any argument we had ever







