LOGINHe spoke first, his tone low but firm enough to carry. “We can wait,” he said. “Children will come when they’re meant to. The Pack already has its heart.” The room stilled for a breath. Mara looked over her shoulder, her hands still sunk in flour, her eyes soft and startled. “You mean me?” she asked
LILAThe house woke before dawn. Old wood shifted, the hearth whispered, and the air felt different—alive again. I stood at the foot of the stairs when I heard them coming. Two sets of steps, uneven from the road, but in rhythm all the same. When the door opened, cold air rushed through the hall. Ga
“I thought I had to be perfect,” she said. “Every step, every word. Like one mistake would make them lose faith in me.”“Then let them,” I said. “Let them see we bleed too. Let them see what real looks like.”Her eyes lifted toward the sky, catching the first streaks of gold between the branches. “T
GAVINHer breath came out in bursts, sharp enough to cut. She pressed her palm to her mouth, like the words might spill if she didn’t hold them in. I moved before I thought, closing the space, catching her hands in mine. Her fingers were cold and damp, her pulse racing under my thumb.“I can’t be wh
GAVINThe scent hit me before I saw the gate—hers, faint and fading, scattered by wind. I caught it the second I stepped into the hall, and everything in me snapped to attention. The council chamber still echoed in my head, the droning voices, the talk of territory lines and alliance disputes. I had
MARAI knelt beside a pool fed by a narrow stream. Moonlight rippled across its surface, silver on black. My reflection flickered there, the same face that wore the Luna’s mask every day, only softer now—bare, unsure, alive. I cupped my hands in the water and let it run down my wrists. The cold snap
MARAAfter breakfast, Lila led me down the east corridor where the walls held portraits of past Alphas and Lunas, their faces caught in strokes of oil and shadow. The air had the scent of lemon polish and parchment. She walked ahead, her pace measured, the hem of her gray dress brushing the floor in
The response thundered through the clearing. Every howl, every laugh, every drumbeat carried upward toward the stars. The pack moved as one—strong, radiant, alive. I felt the ground hum beneath my feet, the same rhythm I’d taught the pups that morning. Creation through sound, through movement, throu
GAVINI led Mara through the gates of the Alpha den, the heavy oak swinging on iron hinges with a groan that made her start.She froze mid-step, her hand brushing the carved stones at the entry, eyes wide as if she’d expected a small hunting cabin instead of the towering walls and archways that stre
LILAEvening spread across the Packhouse in wide strokes of silver and blue. The air cooled, I stayed in the garden with Mara, the ground beneath us soft from the day’s work. The moon climbed slow over the ridge, pale and full, washing the rows in light that turned every leaf into glass. The crescen







