Mag-log inFor years, the Lycans and werewolves have been locked in a bitter war, their hatred spanning generations. Rosalee, born under tragic and cruel circumstances, was abandoned as a baby at a werewolf pack. Treated worse than the lowest omega, she endured years of neglect and scorn. On her sixteenth birthday, everything changed. Her first shift revealed a truth that shattered her world, Rosalee was no ordinary werewolf. Cast out from the only home she had ever known, she was forced to fend for herself, alone and afraid. Desperate for safety, Rosalee found refuge in a quiet human town, where she built a new life. Working at a small hotel, she finally felt a sense of belonging, even forming a close bond with Dameon, the son of the hotel’s head chef. But her secret loomed over her like a shadow, a constant reminder of what she could lose if the truth came to light. Her fragile peace is shattered when the Lycan King, a powerful, enigmatic figure, arrives at the hotel one fateful night. His presence is a threat to the life she’s built, and his intentions are as clear as his connection to her past. As tensions rise and old wounds resurface, Rosalee is thrust into a dangerous game of survival. To protect her secret and those she cares about, she must confront her identity and uncover the truth about her origins, before the war she escaped catches up with her once again. In a world divided by blood and betrayal, Rosalee must decide where she truly belongs and whether she can forge a path of her own.
view moreGriffen's Point of View The forest is quiet, cloaked in shadows, the trees swaying gently in the breeze as I wait beneath their cover. The moonlight slices through the branches in thin beams, and I shift my weight from one foot to the other, every crackle of a twig beneath me echoing louder than I want it to. I know this place too well now, the path Aria always takes when she sneaks out. She thinks no one notices, but I do. I always do. Today was their eighteenth birthday celebration. The entire pack was buzzing about it all week, the biggest event Dark Moon has hosted since their shift celebration. Rosalee had even invited me, her voice soft and kind like it always is. Like I deserved her kindness. I told her I wasn’t feeling well. Another excuse. Another lie. She didn’t question it, she never does. Just gave me that small smile and said she’d save me a slice of cake. I almost feel bad. Almost. Because Rosalee is… good. Too good for someone like me. She’s been the closest thing
Rosalee's Point of ViewEleven years later.The morning sun filters in through the kitchen windows, casting golden streaks across the countertops as I move between them, hands full with trays of freshly baked pastries. The scent of cinnamon and sugar wraps around me like a warm hug, but I can’t stop the swell of disbelief in my chest.Sixteen.Aria and Leo are shifting for the first time tonight.I pause at the counter, a hand pressed lightly to my heart as I glance out the window. The backyard is a flurry of activity, banners being strung between trees, tables covered in white linens, fairy lights already wound around the wooden posts of the deck. Ronan and Josh are setting up the fire pit, and Natalie is laughing as she tries to keep the younger kids from running underfoot. Piper and Lillian are arranging flowers on the center tables while Jensen helps Marcel carry chairs from the storage shed.It’s beautiful, more than I imagined. But still, I can’t quite wrap my head around the fa
Rosalee's Point of View One month later. The sun filters warmly through the trees, casting dappled golden light across the backyard. The summer air is soft and fragrant, and from my seat on the back porch, I can hear the soft hum of insects and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. But mostly, I hear the kids. Aria shrieks with laughter as Leo chases her around the tree with a stick he’s declared is now a “magic sword.” They tumble and giggle, their wild little world spinning with energy and joy. And just a few feet behind them, slower, quieter, Griffen. He doesn’t laugh the way they do. Not yet. He runs after them, a step or two behind, eyes watching every movement, trying to mimic it, trying to blend in. His shoulders stay tense, his hands often clench and unclench at his sides, like he's bracing for something. And when he smiles, it’s fleeting, uncertain… but it's there. I wrap my fingers around my cup of tea, warm against my palms, and watch as Aria suddenly doubles back, grabb
Rosalee's Point of ViewThe twins are on the living room floor, a mess of blankets and wooden animal toys between them, their giggles echoing through the house. I sit on the couch, folding a tiny shirt fresh from the dryer, when my phone rings beside me.Jensen’s name lights up the screen.My heart skips a beat. I answer quickly, bringing the phone to my ear. “Hey, is everything okay?”His voice is quiet, tired. “It’s done, Rose. Thorne is dead.”I pause, taking in the weight of those words. “Are you alright?”“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice rough. “But… there’s something else. Thorne’s son, he’s just a boy. Eight. Selene got him out before the fight. He didn’t see any of it.”I press a hand to my chest, already feeling the ache settle in. “You’re bringing him here?”“Yeah. I didn’t want him to be alone. I’ll explain everything when I get there.”“Of course. I’ll get the spare room ready.”There’s a pause on his end, and I can hear the heaviness in his breathing. “Thanks, Rose.”












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