Jensen's Point of View I push my legs harder, my muscles burning as I race toward the house. The moment it comes into view, I don’t slow down, I burst through the door, my heart pounding with urgency. My eyes lock onto the emergency bag near the entrance, the one I always keep packed with clothes for situations like this. Without hesitation, I snatch it up and turn back toward the forest, my grip tightening around the strap. Stepping past the treeline, I take a steadying breath, my pulse still racing. The moment the shadows of the forest close around me, I let the shift take over. A surge of energy erupts through my bones, my body stretching, reforming. The transformation is swift, a blur of power and instinct, until I stand in my Lycan form, towering and strong. I adjust the bag in my clawed grip, making sure not to tear it. Then, I inhale deeply through my nose. Her scent is faint but still there, laced with the dampness of the forest and the lingering trace of her distr
Rosalee's Point of View "Freya." I repeat her name slowly, almost disbelievingly, as if saying it aloud will confirm what my mind is struggling to process. She smiles, tucking a strand of her raven black hair behind her ear. “Yes, Freya. What about you? What’s your name?” I freeze for just a second long enough for her to notice. Freya. The name echoes in my head, loud and persistent. Marcus told me that was my mother’s name. Could it be? Is that why she seems so familiar? Why the moment we locked eyes, I felt something unspoken pass between us? I search her face, high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes that mirror my own. I feel her gaze on me, waiting, her curiosity just as intense as mine. I shake my head, forcing myself to return to the present. “Sorry about that,” I say quickly, my voice steadier than I feel. “My name is Rosalee.” Her expression doesn’t change much, but there’s something, a flicker of recognition? A softening in her features? Or maybe it’s just wishful
Freya's Point of View As soon as Rosalee steps away toward the bathroom, I lower my mental shield and reach out through the pack link. “Ravena, bring me the sedative. Quickly.” “On it,” comes her swift reply. I glance around the diner, ensuring no one is paying too much attention to me. The waitress is busy tending to another customer, and the few humans present are wrapped up in their meals and conversations. Within moments, Ravena enters, moving with practiced ease, a small vial concealed in her palm. As she passes by my booth, she places it discreetly on the table beside me before continuing out the door without a word. I pick up the vial, twisting off the top just as the waitress arrives with our orders. She places the slices of chocolate cake and the tall milkshakes on the table, giving me a friendly smile before walking away. I take my chance, tilting the vial and letting a few drops of the clear liquid swirl into Rosalee’s milkshake. It dissolves instantly, leaving no tr
Jensen’s Point of View Frustration gnaws at me as I stand outside the diner, the cool air doing little to calm my racing thoughts. I know waiting for Ronan and the others is necessary, but every second feels like an eternity, and I can’t just stand out here doing nothing. It is driving me crazy. Come on, think Jensen! With renewed determination, I push open the door to the diner again, the soft jingle of the bell overhead echoing through the nearly empty room. The comforting warmth inside envelopes me, a sharp contrasts to the biting air outside, and where it would usually soothe me it does nothing now to ease the tension in my chest. The waitress, still behind the counter wiping down some mugs, glances up. Her expression softens when she sees me. I offer her a tight, strained smile. "Sorry to bother you again, but can you maybe tell me about the people my friend left with?" She frowns for a second, thinking about it. "Honestly, not much. Their group pretty much kept to them
Rosalee's Point of View My head throbs as I start to stir, my body sluggish and heavy. Blinking a few times, I try to make sense of my surroundings. The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a lamp on a rustic wooden table. The walls are wooden planks, aged with time, and the faint smell of pine fills the air. I slowly push myself up, my limbs protesting the movement. Where am I? Then I hear it, the soft rush of water running from a faucet in what I assume is the kitchen. Turning my head, I see her. Freya. She stands by the sink, filling a glass of water. Her posture seems calm, but my mind races with anger and betrayal. How could she do this? As quietly as I can, I slide off the couch. My feet touch the cool wooden floor, and I instinctively move toward a shadowed corner of the living room, hiding in the darkness. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline surging through me. I feel my skin prickle as my anger rises, the familiar burning warmth signaling my shift is close. My b
Rosalee's Point of View The silence between us stretches unbearably, heavy with unspoken words and emotions neither of us know how to voice. I glance out the window, the faint moonlight filtering through the trees casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Freya sits across from me, fingers tapping a slow rhythm on her knee, her gaze alternating between concern and hope. My stomach churns with a mix of confusion and resentment, but also curiosity. How can I balance all these emotions when my world just turned upside down? I sigh, the weight of it dragging me forward as I rub my clammy hands up and down my jeans. "I don't know what to do now..." I mutter, shrugging helplessly. The vulnerability in my voice surprises even me. Freya lets out a small chuckle, soft and nervous, but not unkind. "Me neither," she admits, offering me a tentative smile. "But... maybe we can start by telling each other a bit more about ourselves? I'd really like to know about your childhood, Rosalee."
Rosalee's Point of View The heavy silence between Freya and me stretches on, the weight of everything said and unsaid filling the small cabin. It's Freya who finally breaks it, her voice soft but hopeful. "You said that later there were people who cared for you. Would you mind telling me about those happier times?" For a moment, I hesitate, unsure of how much to share. But then, thinking of Dameon and Margaret, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips before I can stop it. "The day of my sixteenth birthday," I begin slowly, "I was kicked out of my pack. I didn’t know where to go, so I wandered until I found myself in Thornhill. That’s where I stumbled upon a hotel. I was cold, starving, and completely lost when Margaret, the head chef, found me. She took pity on me, gave me a warm meal, and somehow convinced her boss to give me a job cleaning rooms. She even arranged a small room for me in the staff quarters." The warmth of those memories floods me. I can almost smell the fre
Freya's Point of View Rosalee’s words echo in my mind. "That he is the Lycan king." Shock still lingers beneath my composed exterior, but beneath that surprise lies something far more potent. Growing excitement about the opportunity presenting itself to me in the form of my daughter. Fate has handed me something I never anticipated, a direct connection to the enemy. The Lycan King is mated to my own daughter, what are the chances? This could be the key to finally dismantling the Lycans from within. With Rosalee on the inside, feeding me vital information, victory could be closer than I ever imagined. I have to approach this opportunity very carefully. Rosalee doesn’t know the truth about me, about who I truly am. She thinks I’m just her long lost mother, someone searching for redemption and reconnection. If she finds out I’m the Alpha of the Crimsonclaw Pack, the very faction dedicated to eradicating the Lycans, she might turn against me. And I can’t risk that. Not now, when the st
Jensen's Point of ViewThe early morning light spills through the office windows in soft gold streaks, casting long shadows across my desk. The house is quiet, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall and the subtle creak of old wood beneath the walls. I take a deep breath, rubbing my hands together before opening a mind link.“Nyx, Ronan—please meet me in my office.”Their responses are almost immediate, overlapping with precision.“On my way.”I close the link and sit back in my chair, fingers laced in front of me as I gather my thoughts. This plan could change everything—or backfire spectacularly. One wrong move, and we risk everything we’ve built, everyone we’ve sworn to protect.A sharp knock pulls me from the spiral.“Come in,” I call.The door opens and Ronan steps in first, Nyx right behind him. They both move with purpose, slipping into the chairs across from me without a word. Their expressions are focused, waiting.I don't waste time.“We’ve got a situation,” I begin.
Rosalee's Point of View The walls feel like they’re closing in on me as I pace the living room again. I’ve already circled the coffee table at least a dozen times, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sweater as my thoughts race. I can't sit still. I tried. The silence is too loud, too accusing. Every second that ticks by just feeds the knot in my stomach. Jensen is at that alliance meeting right now, and I have no idea how it’s going. What if they turn on him because of me? What if I’ve ruined everything? I glance out the window, Nyx and Josh are still there, casually keeping watch like I’m a prisoner in my own home. I know they’re just doing their job. Jensen asked them to. But it still stings. That after everything, I still need to be watched. Suddenly, a sharp knock at the front door freezes me in place. My heart leaps into my throat. For a second, my breath catches, did something go wrong? Did Jensen send someone back? My feet move before my thoughts can catch up, and I
Jensen's Point of View I brace myself for the sting of Celine’s words, expecting anger, blame, maybe even a demand that we disband the alliance entirely. But what she says takes me completely by surprise. “I have seen firsthand what Crimsonclaw is capable of,” she says, her voice steady despite the residual weakness in her frame. “So I will do anything to stop them. If that means overlooking what Rosalee did, then Shadow Vale will join the alliance too.” For a moment, I can’t speak. Relief washes over me in a heavy wave, loosening the tension in my shoulders. I incline my head towards her, grateful beyond words. “Thank you, Alpha Celine.” Her nod is small but resolute, and it carries more weight than anything said in this room so far. I glance towards Dorian and Elias, hoping, maybe foolishly, that Celine’s words might sway them. But Elias explodes. He shoves back from the table so violently his chair screeches across the floor. “You’re all idiots,” he spits, eyes flashi
Jensen's Point of View It’s 08:45 when Ronan and I pull up in front of Shadow Vale. The morning air is sharp, still laced with the earthy scent of damp soil and pine, but there’s a tension coiled in my chest that has nothing to do with the cold. As I scan the area, I spot several vehicles already parked, members of the alliance packs arriving early, likely just as anxious as we are. I let my gaze linger on the structure of Shadow Vale’s pack house. They are stil rebuilding after Crimsonclaws last attack. It’s quiet now, but I know inside there will be questions, possibly accusations, and it all starts with me. With what I have to say. I turn to Ronan in the passenger seat, watching him as he takes in the scene. He’s calm on the surface, but I can sense the same unease rippling through him. I ask, “How do you think they’re going to take it?” Ronan exhales through his nose, eyes flicking towards the windshield before meeting mine. “I really don’t know,” he admits. “Getting them
Jensen's Point of View I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of their eyes on me, Ronan’s expectant and unreadable, Nyx’s sharp and already narrowing like she’s halfway to the truth. I look between them and then to Rosalee. She won’t meet their eyes. She sits with her shoulders drawn in, fingers still twisting in her lap. I can feel her fear radiating off her, and I hate that I’m the one who has to say it out loud. “I need to tell you both something,” I begin, voice low but steady. “And I need you to hear all of it before you react.” That gets Nyx’s full attention. Her arms cross, jaw tight. Ronan leans forward slightly, eyes flicking from me to Rosalee. I run a hand down my face, then continue. “Rosalee… has been leaking information. To Crimsonclaw.” Nyx’s face hardens instantly. Ronan’s jaw ticks. “But...” I raise a hand to stop them before they can speak, “she didn’t know it was Crimsonclaw.” Nyx scoffs under her breath, but I push through. “She met her mother th
Jensen's Point of View I watch as Rosalee reaches out to me, her hands trembling, her expression full of fear and regret. But I can’t bring myself to let her touch me. I step back, shaking my head, the words slipping from my mouth before I even think about them. "No... Just... No.. I can't do this." The moment those words leave my lips, I see the fear in her eyes, and for a split second, I feel a flicker of doubt. But the anger and the betrayal have clouded everything, and I can’t bring myself to care. Not now. She doesn’t understand the depth of what she’s done. I thought we were building something real. I thought we had a connection. But now, it feels like a sick joke, and I can’t stand the thought of it. The betrayal is one thing, but what really stings the most is that what Rosalee and I could have been... it’s gone. Just like that. She opens her mouth again, probably to lie, to make excuses, and I can’t take it. I shake my head, my anger rising again. "I have to go." I need
Rosalee's Point of View Jensen shakes his head slowly, his movements stiff and mechanical like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then he pushes up from his chair so abruptly that it scrapes loudly against the floor, the sound making me flinch. He stays behind his desk, putting a solid barrier between us, but his eyes, those familiar, steady eyes, are stormy now, clouded with disbelief and something that looks dangerously close to hurt. Tears blur my vision, and I lift my hands in surrender, my body trembling so hard I can barely stand still. I shake my head too, desperate to make him understand, to make him believe me. "It’s true," I choke out, my voice breaking completely now. "But I promise you, Jensen, I didn’t know I was giving information to Crimsonclaw." His jaw tightens, muscles ticking furiously under his skin. When he speaks, his voice is low, hard. "Rosalee, what did you do?" I wrap my arms around myself like I can somehow hold myself together,
Rosalee's Point of View Nyx’s words hit me like a slap across the face, each one cutting deeper than the last. She doesn't even blink as she stares me down, her voice sharp and accusing. "How could you, Rosalee? Jensen trusted you. We took you in as one of our own, and this is how you thank us? By giving inside information to our enemy." I feel the sting of tears before I even realize they're falling, blurring my vision, making it harder to keep looking at her. I shake my head desperately, my voice cracking as I say, "No, Nyx, it's not like that. I didn't know. I promise you, I didn’t know." But she just shakes her head right back at me, disbelief and disappointment carved into every hard line of her face. "Why would you share private information with anyone? No matter the circumstances." The shame weighs down my shoulders, makes me feel so small. I hang my head, barely able to get the words out. "I thought I was making a difference," I whisper, my voice thick with
Rosalee's Point of ViewThe moment the word "Freya" leaves Alpha Celine’s lips, it feels like my entire world tilts sideways.Panic slams into me, sudden and violent, and my heart starts hammering so loudly in my ears that I almost miss what comes next.No, it can’t be, I think desperately. It’s just a common name. It doesn’t have to mean anything.I fight to keep my breathing even, my expression blank, because out of the corner of my eye, I catch Nyx watching me. Watching too closely.I force myself to focus, pulling my face into a neutral mask even though my insides feel like they’re being shredded apart.Jensen's voice cuts through the pounding of my heart."That’s great. Can you describe her?"His tone is calm, steady, as if he has no idea that the ground beneath me is crumbling into dust.Alpha Celine nods her head, her voice steady as she starts,"She is about my height, maybe a few inches taller. She has long pitch black hair and striking blue eyes. I’ll never be able to forget