LOGINERINShe looked like a ghost wearing my mother's face. The same high cheekbones. The same stubborn set to the jaw. The same dark eyes that seemed to hold secrets too heavy for words. But where my mother's photograph had shown youth and hope, this woman's features were carved by decades of survival—lines etched deep around her mouth, silver threading through hair that might once have been black, a stillness in her posture that spoke of someone who had learned to disappear.I took a step forward. Jake's hand caught my arm, holding me back."Erin. Wait.""She looks like—" My voice broke. I couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't name the resemblance that was tearing through my chest like a blade because naming it would make it real, and if it was real and then it wasn't, the disappointment might actually kill me.Connor moved to intercept, positioning himself between the gathered wolves and the motionless figure at the tree line. His voice carried authority, but I heard the tremor beneath
ERINJake's hands wouldn't stop shaking. I watched him set the letter down, watched him press his palms flat against the table like he was trying to anchor himself to something solid, watched the color drain from his face until he looked like a ghost wearing my mate's skin. In all the months I'd known him—through fights and revelations and impossible odds—I had never seen Jake afraid. Angry, yes. Protective, always. But this trembling, hollow-eyed version of him was someone I didn't recognize."Tell me about Ronan." My voice cut through the silence like a knife. I needed answers more than I needed to comfort him right now, needed to understand how the threads of my grandmother's survival connected to the man I loved. "You said the handwriting resembles someone from your father's territory. A mentor. Tell me everything."Jake's jaw tightened. He looked at Connor, at Marcus, at Maya—all of them watching with the same hungry intensity I felt burning in my chest. Then his eyes found mine,
ERINThe word "Moonblood" burned on the page like a brand. I read it once. Twice. Three times. Each repetition carved the impossibility deeper into my mind, until the letters seemed to pulse with accusation. Moonblood. A term I'd learned barely a week ago. A secret Maya had guarded for decades, revealed only within the walls of Connor's private office, spoken in whispers even among those who knew. And now it sat on expensive paper, sealed with Shadowcrest's official emblem, delivered to my door by someone who shouldn't exist."Who else knows?" My voice came out strangled, barely recognizable. "Jake, who else knows that word? That name for what I am?"He was already moving, crossing to the door, checking the hallway for whoever had delivered this impossible message. Empty. Of course it was empty. Whoever had come had vanished like smoke, leaving behind only questions and the sour taste of fear coating my tongue."Maya. Connor. Marcus. Nadia, from the medical files." Jake's jaw was tigh
ERINThe silence shattered like glass. Voices erupted from every corner of the hall—Silver Ridge wolves demanding explanations, Shadowcrest witnesses pulling out phones with barely concealed eagerness, Maya shouting for order while Connor's warriors tried to contain a crowd that had suddenly become a powder keg. But I heard none of it. I heard only the roar of blood in my ears, the thunder of my own heartbeat, the screaming accusation that filled my skull until I thought it might crack open.He knew. Marty knew. While I'd spent months hiding my pregnancy from everyone who might use it against me, while I'd agonized over who to trust and when to reveal, while I'd carefully constructed walls of secrecy around my daughter's existence—my father had known. And he'd said nothing. He'd watched me struggle with the weight of it, watched me navigate impossible political waters with this secret pressing against my chest, and he'd never once admitted that he already carried the same knowledge.I
ERINThe howl faded into silence, but neither of us moved. Jake sat rigid beside me, his breath coming shallow and fast, his eyes fixed on the darkening horizon like he could see his father standing there. The confession hung between us, raw and unfinished, and I understood with sudden, painful clarity that he'd only told me part of the truth. There was more. There was always more. But for the first time since discovering my own tangled heritage, I recognized the weight of secrets carried too long alone.I didn't push. I didn't demand explanations or timelines or promises that everything would be okay. Instead, I shifted closer until our shoulders touched, let my warmth seep into his cold skin, and waited. The way I wished someone had waited for me all those years I'd hidden behind Beth's lies, terrified that the truth would destroy the fragile life I'd built."I left when I was nineteen," Jake said finally. His voice sounded scraped raw, like the words had been locked behind his teet
ERINThe silence in the medical wing lasted exactly thirty-seven seconds before it shattered. Connor arrived first, his face tight with the same expression he'd worn at the massacre site—controlled fear barely contained behind Alpha authority. Maya followed, clutching files I recognized as Moonblood research. Then Marty, hovering at the doorway like he wasn't sure he had the right to be there but couldn't make himself leave. They'd all heard. Word traveled fast in a pack under lockdown, faster when the news involved their pregnant Moonblood heir experiencing symptoms no one could explain.Nadia repeated her findings three times, using smaller words each time as if that would make them easier to accept. My wolf was awakening. Not the gradual emergence most shifters experienced through adolescence, but a sudden, violent blooming of power that had been suppressed for two decades. The cramping wasn't danger—it was transformation. My body was preparing for something unprecedented, somethin







