FAZER LOGINKATARINA I stared at Alexander, waiting for his response, but he didn't answer, instead running his hand roughly through his hair. So I asked again.“Xander, are you okay?" I spoke softly, searching his face in the low moonlight that filtered through the windows, and he finally exhaled, visibly forcing his shoulders to relax. “I'm fine," he said, but the edge in his tone remained. “But you must not request anything from Cyra. I'll draw you an exercise plan."I blinked, warmth spreading through me in response to the offer, even though confusion remained. “Thank you. That's very kind of you." I paused and tilted my head. “But I still don't understand. What's wrong with me asking Cyra?” Alexander's jaw visibly tightened, and he ran his hand through his hair again, fingers gripping the strands as if fighting an internal battle. The silence stretched between us once more, and I could see the conflict in his expression—the darkening of his eyes and the subtle clench of his fists at his si
KATARINASelf-pity would not change anything, I told myself firmly as I finally got up from the bed. My legs felt unsteady, but I forced them to support me. I couldn't sit here wallowing in the dark while Greyson moved through the world without me because I was too weak to stand by his side.Tonight, I would go to Alexander, do what was necessary, and fall pregnant because the moon goddess would have it so. I closed my eyes briefly and said a silent prayer into the quiet room.Moon Goddess, please help me conceive tonight. Give me the strength to do what needs to be done, and allow this child to bind us together in a way that brings peace not only to Greyson and me, but also to Alexander. Help him help his brother. Give him strength.But first, I needed to take control of my own destiny. No more passively watching events unfold around me. Cyra's words from my early days here echoed in my mind—her sharp advice that I needed to be strong so that I could stand up for myself and watch Gre
KATARINAI sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up to my chest, watching Greyson walk around our suite before standing in front of the tall mirror, adjusting the collar of his dark shirt. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders, which had been relaxed moments earlier. Now the same shoulders were tense again as he prepared to leave me.“I'm meeting someone important," he'd said earlier, cautiously, as if the words would bruise me. “This time, the meeting will take place out of town. So I won't be back until the morning."I'd nodded, forcing a small smile that felt like broken glass. “I understand. Good luck with the meeting."But now, as he checked his reflection one last time, his departure and the prospect of spending the night alone weighed on me, the food I'd eaten minutes before sitting heavy in my stomach.His previous request to resume the arrangement with Alexander also echoed in my mind. It wasn't like the first time he forced the decision on me. Back then, I was numb, terr
GREYSON We reached the main house, and Alexander headed off without another word. I made my way to our suite, exhaustion and calculation warring in my mind. When I opened the door, Cyra was inside, and she turned as I entered. For a moment, the air felt awkward before she gracefully rose.“I should go,” she said softly, and Katarina rose as well. They embraced warmly, and again, I was taken aback by how natural it looked. I couldn't help but wonder what Cyra was up to because I knew she didn't like Katarina. But an idea crystallized in my mind with cold clarity as she walked to the door.I had told Katarina to pause the arrangement with Alexander. But maybe now was the time to resume it. If they conceived soon, before the two-week deadline, Alexander would have no choice. The baby would be on the way. I could announce the pregnancy to the pack immediately. Alexander wouldn’t expose our secrets publicly, no matter how angry he was. He’d be trapped by loyalty and the reality of the chi
GREYSONThe hours after the morgue blurred into a relentless sequence of duties. By the time Marcus’s family arrived at the stronghold, the mourning banners were hung, the receiving hall prepared, and the air thick with the scent of ritual incense. I stood beside Katarina at the main entrance, and my wife looked composed and elegant in her red dress, but I could feel the tension radiating from her. All this was still intimidating to her. But she was still showing up for the pack and me, and doing her best. She squeezed my hand as the vehicles pulled up in a silent show of support that twisted the guilt in my chest, knowing that I was lying to her, that I was lying to everyone.Marcus’s wife, Luna Morgana, stepped out first, supported by her sister and Marcus’s younger sister. Her father and their pack elder followed, faces etched with grief. Unlike when my father died in their territory, where Alexander and I had taken the body and left swiftly, they had chosen to stay for the full
KATARINAThe drive back from the airstrip felt heavier than the one there. The acrid smell of smoke still clung to my clothes, and the image of the charred wreckage refused to leave my mind. Greyson’s hand stayed wrapped around mine the entire way, but his grip was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. I didn’t press him, however. The news had already spread like wildfire by the time we reached the stronghold. Servants and pack members moved with solemn urgency, preparing for the arrival of Marcus’s wife and whatever remained of his family. I barely had time to change into more appropriate mourning attire before Cyra appeared at my side, composed and efficient as ever.“I’m here to help,” she said quietly, squeezing my arm. “You don't have to do this alone.”Again, her presence was a comfort as she moved with purpose, helping me coordinate the receiving hall, the guest quarters, the formal mourning banners, and the preparation of traditional rites.We worked side by side, her ca







