MasukThe sky felt like it was holding its breath.A storm hung above Moonlace, but it wasn’t rain gathering, it was violence. The air had weight, like something ancient was pushing down on the territory, waiting for the perfect second to strike. Wolves moved across the training grounds in disciplined formations, but even discipline couldn’t mask nerves.Fear wasn’t the enemy.Silence was.I watched from the balcony, arms braced on the stone railing. Every shout from the yard below echoed upward, not chaotic, not panicked. Controlled. Lucas’s voice cut through the sound like a blade.“Your stance is a promise,” he commanded, moving between fighters. “To kill, to survive, to return home. Make that promise with your spine, not your mouth.”His presence was stable. Not loud. Not flashy. Just impossible to ignore.Part of me wanted to stay here, above it, separate. The other part wanted to be in the dirt, ripping through drills until my muscles screamed. The two halves of me had always fough
War preparation was quieter than I expected.Not the shouting kind. Not the dramatic clashing of weapons or reckless growls. It was the kind of silence that pressed inward, where every wolf moved with intention and every sound carried weight.Moonlace had shifted.I walked through the lower barracks as dawn bled slowly into the sky, watching my pack adapt in real time. Scouts sharpened blades instead of joking. Healers stockpiled herbs without being told. The guards at the eastern wall rotated twice as often as before.They were afraid.But they were listening.That mattered more.“Alpha,” one of the younger sentries said, bowing quickly as I passed.I nodded, my presence pulling instinctive respect now instead of curiosity. The land hummed beneath my boots, a low vibration that hadn’t existed before my return. Or maybe it always had, and I was only just hearing it.Either way, it answered me.Lucas was already ahead near the armory, speaking in low tones with the clan commanders he’d
War preparation was quieter than I expected.Not the shouting kind. Not the dramatic clashing of weapons or reckless growls. It was the kind of silence that pressed inward, where every wolf moved with intention and every sound carried weight.Moonlace had shifted.I walked through the lower barracks as dawn bled slowly into the sky, watching my pack adapt in real time. Scouts sharpened blades instead of joking. Healers stockpiled herbs without being told. The guards at the eastern wall rotated twice as often as before.They were afraid.But they were listening.That mattered more.“Alpha,” one of the younger sentries said, bowing quickly as I passed.I nodded, my presence pulling instinctive respect now instead of curiosity. The land hummed beneath my boots, a low vibration that hadn’t existed before my return. Or maybe it always had, and I was only just hearing it.Either way, it answered me.Lucas was already ahead near the armory, speaking in low tones with the clan commanders he’d
Anna’s POVThe first light of dawn broke over Moonlace territory, brushing silver across the stone pillars and runes that had stood for centuries. Birds stirred, unaware of the grief and fury that lingered in the air, their songs small against the weight of history.I stepped onto the ceremonial balcony, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on the assembly below. Wolves gathered in clusters, some bowing respectfully, some standing rigid with suspicion. Every eye was on me. Every whisper carried a question: Is she ready?I was.I took a slow breath, feeling the pull of the land beneath my feet. This was my birthright. My responsibility. My inheritance. The weight of it pressed against my chest, a steady rhythm like the pulse of the pack itself. Lucas stood a step behind me, silent, patient, unwavering. My husband. Not a shadow, not a protector. An equal Alpha. He had never pretended otherwise.Unless he doesn't love me, he is just performing his rights. “Moonlace,” I called, my voice steady,
Lucas’ POVA lot has has been going on ever since we got here, and there is this anger I can feel,It doesn’t disappear. It doesn’t dissolve into grief. It searches.Moonlace was searching now.I felt it in the ground beneath my boots as the pack dispersed after the failed ambush. The land was restless, unsettled, like a kingdom that had lost its ruler and hadn’t yet decided who to obey.Anna walked ahead of me, shoulders squared, spine straight.Not fleeing.Not hiding.Claiming.The pack watched her openly now. Not as a grieving daughter. Not as a widow-in-waiting, but as an Alpha.She walked around the pack as she sized the warriors with her eyes, she looked tired, but she didn't let it show. She got to a stance where there were women, some bowed. Others hesitated. A few looked afraid.Good.Fear meant they understood what had changed. Thorne moved beside her, murmuring something low. I didn’t strain to hear it. I was too busy thinking about what I heard Leo say. The missing hal
Leo’s POV Moonlace territory was older than most packs remembered. You could feel it in the ground—how it resisted foreign dominance, how it breathed differently under your feet. Every Alpha who stepped here without permission felt it eventually. The land tested you. Measure your intent. It also measured mine. It had been measuring me since the moment I crossed its border. Silver fire had rippled through the runes when Anna returned. Not because she was grieving. Not because she was angry.But because she was unfinished. That was the part no one said out loud. Anna Moonlace was powerful, yes—but she was power interrupted. Split. Deferred. She still has a lot of things to learn, she also has many family secrets to uncover, else she won't see growth no matter how hard she works. I leaned against the stone balcony outside my chamber, eyes lifted to the moon, listening to the distant movement of guards below. Moonlace wolves were restless tonight. Grief made them reckless, but fear







