Jensen's Point of View I sit at my desk, phone pressed to my ear, listening to the steady ringing on the other end of the line. This is the last call on my list of Lycan packs thaat were attacked by Crimsonclaw, every other Lycan pack I’ve contacted has already agreed to join us in the fight against Crimsonclaw. I expect this conversation to go the same way. On the third ring, a gruff voice answers. “Alpha Thorne speaking.” “Alpha Thorne, this is Alpha Jensen of the Dark Moon Pack.” There’s a beat of silence before he replies, wary but polite. “King Jensen. Of course I know who you are. What’s this about?” “Alpha Jensen is fine, thank you. I’ll get right to it. Crimsonclaw is on the move, and we’ve set a trap. In two days, we’re springing it. This is the best chance we’ve had to end them, for good. We’re gathering every available ally, and I’m giving you and the Bloodstone Pack the opportunity to join us.” The line goes quiet again. Then Thorne lets out a low growl of thou
Jensen's Point of View I sit behind my desk, the morning sun pouring in through the tall window behind me, casting warm streaks of light across the wood grain. My coffee's gone cold, untouched since I set it down. My fingers trace the rim of the mug absently as my thoughts wander back to breakfast with Rosalee. It had been… nice. Warm. For a few minutes, it had felt almost normal, like before everything fell apart. But I should’ve known something was coming, there was a tension in her eyes, a determination under the surface of her smile. And then she said it. “I want to help and fight in the trap set for Crimsonclaw.” I exhale slowly, rubbing the back of my neck as I lean back in my chair. That familiar ache is there again, a tight coil of conflict deep in my chest. I still don’t know how I feel about her joining the fight. On one hand, the thought of her in danger turns my stomach. I still care about her. More than I’d like to admit. No matter how complicated it’s gotten betwee
Rosalee's Point of ViewI wake up feeling something I haven’t felt in a very long time, hope. Real, tangible hope. There is a buzz of determination in my chest, and I sit up quickly, the soft morning light spilling in through the curtains. Today is the day training starts with all the packs, and I have made up my mind: I want to be a part of it. I’m done standing on the sidelines. I might not be a warrior, but I can fight, and I will.I swing my legs out of bed and head straight for my closet, my mind already working through the conversation I’ll have with Jensen. He might not be thrilled about me joining the training, but maybe I can soften him up a little first. I pull on a pair of black tights and a snug sports bra, then throw on a fitted, breathable shirt over it. It’s perfect for training, practical, but still me.Once I’m dressed, I walk barefoot into the kitchen. The quiet hum of the early morning wraps around me, comforting. I roll my shoulders back and get to work. If I want
Jensen's Point of View With a plan set to finally take down Crimsonclaw all that is left to do is call Alpha Dorian and Alpha Ellias and tell them about the plan. They should know and have to opportunity to decide what they want to do and if they want to be involved. With a sigh I pick up my office land line. The phone feels heavier in my hand than usual, the weight of what’s coming pressing down on me as I dial Dorian’s number. Each ring echoes in my chest, until finally, on the fourth, his voice comes through. “Alpha Jensen. Is everything okay?” I lean back slightly in my chair, eyes flicking to the map still laid out across my office table. “Yes, Alpha Dorian. Everything’s under control, for now.” I pause, then speak steadily. “I just wanted to let you know that the trap is in motion. We’ve set it for three days from now. We’ve planned the transport of Alpha Celine as bait, Crimsonclaw will try to intercept. That’s when we strike.” There’s silence on the other end for a
Jensen's Point of View The room is thick with tension, but also focus, the kind of focus that comes when people know the stakes and are finally starting to see a path forward. We all stand around the large table in my office, the maps of the region spread out before us like a battlefield waiting to be claimed. Red markers, black ink trails, highlighters, it’s all a controlled chaos, and every set of eyes is locked on it. Rosalee leans forward, her finger hovering over one of the bolded lines as she speaks. “We can’t use main roads. Freya would never believe we’d move someone as importnant as Alpha Celine along one of them, they’re too exposed.” She’s right, and the room murmurs in agreement. Victor steps up next, tapping his knuckle on the area between two ridgelines. “That leaves us with these two back roads. The eastern ridge road will be easier, wider, more manageable for the convoy. But the river road?” He pauses, meeting my eyes. “That one’s perfect for an ambush.” I no
Rosalee's Point of ViewAs the line goes dead in my ear, a strange mixture of relief and dread settles in my chest. I slowly lower the receiver, my fingers lingering on it for just a moment longer before I pull back and take a deep breath. My heart is still racing, but I force myself to steady it. That was probably the most important call I have ever made in my life, and possibly the most dangerous lie I have ever told.I turn to Jensen, his steady gaze meeting mine. “I think she bought it,” I say softly. “She tried to act like she wasn’t bothered, but I could hear it… the frustration in her voice.”Jensen nods his head slowly, his expression unreadable. “Let’s hope so.”I open my mouth to say something more, maybe to ask him what he thinks the next step is, or what happens if the plan fails, but he beats me to it.“I have arranged for us to have breakfast with the werewolf Alphas,” he says, already rising from his chair. “Alpha Marcel and Piper will be joining us, too. We should go.
Freya's Point of ViewThe bitter scent of Ravena’s tea blends with the rich aroma of my coffee, curling through the air of the dimly lit cabin. Maps, scouting reports, and coded messages are scattered across the table between us, plans for Crimsonclaw’s next move. I trace my finger over the edge of a marked forest path, only half listening to Ravena’s updates, when my phone starts vibrating against the wood of the table.The sound cuts through the quiet like a blade. I glance down at the screen, fully expecting to see Rosalee’s name again. She’s been calling non stop, but I’ve ignored every single one. She made her choice, she chose them over me. Over her blood.But this time, it isn’t her name.It’s an unknown number.My eyes narrow. Something about it sends a ripple of caution through me. Ravena looks up, brows arching slightly. I raise a hand to silence her and answer the call, lifting the phone to my ear, but I don’t speak. I refuse to give anything away first, not even my breath.
Jensen's Point of View As Rosalee disappears behind her bedroom door, the soft click of it shutting feels like the end of a chapter, one written in ink that still hasn’t quite dried. I let out a long sigh, dragging a hand down my face as the weight of everything we’ve planned settles fully on my shoulders. I turn away from the quiet hallway and head towards the small office tucked into the far side of the house. I rarely use it, always preferring the command center or the Alpha’s office at the pack house. But tonight, it feels like the right space. As I open the door and step inside, a familiar scent hits me immediately. Rosalee. Light and warm, like soft wood smoke and something floral I’ve never been able to place. I pause in the doorway, caught off guard by the subtle comfort it brings. A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Of course she’s been using this space. I never noticed before. The desk is covered in papers, neatly but thoroughly, sketches and design notes sca
Rosalee's Point of ViewThe room falls into a natural hush as the alphas finish volleying ideas back and forth, and I feel the weight of the moment pressing on my chest. Everyone’s trying hard, too hard, to outthink Freya. But I know her better than anyone in this room. I know how she twists information, how she always assumes the lie is behind the truth. She’s careful. Paranoid. And above all, she’s cunning.I clear my throat, drawing their attention. “Freya is sharp,” I say. “She’ll sense a lie before we even finish telling it. If we feed her false information, she’ll probably assume it’s a setup and do the opposite.”They all look at me now, some skeptical, others thoughtful. “So instead of trying to trick her into doing what we want… what if we predict what she’ll do when she thinks she’s avoiding a trap?”There’s a pause before I add, “Freya doesn’t know Alpha Celine is still alive. She thinks she died in that last attack on Shadow Vale. Maybe we can use that.”Victor leans back