LOGINSelena's POV
The room is warm, lit by the soft glow of the lamp on the nightstand. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, Asher on my lap, his tiny legs kicking as I fasten a fresh nappy around him. Lydia is beside me, squirming, her small hands reaching for the phone above her. She's already managed to pull off her own nappy twice.
"You're impossible," I murmur to her, laughing softly. "Just like your father."
Lydia gurgles in response, as if agreeing with me.
Selena’s POVThe sound of Mary’s weeping fills the small room, each sob a raw, splintering thing. I can feel Damian’s tension behind me, his hand still gripping my arm, silently urging me to stay hidden. But I can’t. Seeing Mary cry like that—broken, shattered, clutching her phone as if it’s the only thing tethering her to this world—something shifts inside me. I know this is bad and selfish, to take advantage of someone’s painful, fragile, and vulnerable moment, but I don’t have a choice. Not anymore. Sera’s life hangs in the balance, and the truth is right here, weeping on a narrow bed.I step out of the shadows.Damian hisses my name under his breath, his fingers trying to catch my wrist, but I’m already moving. So he steps out too, his tall frame emerging from the darkness like a wraith. Mary looks up, her tear-streaked face going pale, and she screams—a sharp, terrified so
Selena's POVAn hour later, the night has deepened around us, and I'm still pressed so close to Damian that I can feel every breath he takes. My head rests on his bicep, my body curled into his side, the sheets tangled around our naked bodies. We haven't moved. We haven't wanted to. There's a sacred stillness in this room—the kind that comes after making love until there's nothing left but raw, honest love between two people.Damian is kissing me. He's been kissing me for the past ten minutes—my cheeks, my temples, my forehead, my closed eyelids—everywhere his lips can reach. Each kiss is feather-light, reverent, like he's memorizing the geography of my face. His fingers trace the same paths his lips take, tracing the curve of my ear, the line of my jaw, the bridge of my nose. Then his hand slides into my hair, gently tugging the strands behind my ear, and he smiles.That smile. Warm and slow and so full of love that it makes my h
Selena's POVAfter excuse ourself from Sera’s chamber. Damian scoops me into his arms, cradling me sideways against his chest. I could walk. I'm not so exhausted that I can't stand. But I love this—the way he holds me like I'm something precious, something he's afraid to break.I kiss his jaw as we walk through the corridor. He smiles, the warmth of it spreading through me. He kisses my forehead in return.My mind drifts back to the spark we felt. That sharp, electric pulse that hummed between us. Was it our bond? Is it really happening? I can feel the pull now—stronger than before. His scent is intoxicating, making my skin tingle, Making my wolf relentless, making me want to press closer, to feel more of him.We've both been fighting it. Holding back. But I don't want to hold back anymore.We reach our room. It's empty. Greta must have taken the children and Lily to her room. I'm grateful for the privacy.Dam
Selena's POVThe room is warm, lit by the soft glow of the lamp on the nightstand. I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, Asher on my lap, his tiny legs kicking as I fasten a fresh nappy around him. Lydia is beside me, squirming, her small hands reaching for the phone above her. She's already managed to pull off her own nappy twice."You're impossible," I murmur to her, laughing softly. "Just like your father."Lydia gurgles in response, as if agreeing with me.Lily is sprawled on the bed beside us, her chin resting on her folded arms, her legs waving in the air. She's been watching me change the twins for the past ten minutes, utterly fascinated."Selena," Lily says, her voice full of wonder. "Their cheeks are so soft. Like clouds. Can I touch again?""Of course," I say. "Gentle, though."Lily reaches out, her small fingers brushing Asher's chubby cheek. Asher coos, his eyes fluttering closed. Lily giggles. Then she touche
Sera's POVThe room is quiet now. Greta sits in the chair beside my bed, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes distant. The afternoon light filters through the curtains, soft and golden, casting long shadows across the floor.Selena, Damian, and Gracia left hours ago. The children went with them. It's just us now—two women who have known loss, who have carried grief like a second skin."Tell me about yourself," I say softly. "About your daughter. Your mate. How many grandchildren do you have?"Greta is silent for a long moment. I think she might not answer. Then she lets out a slow breath, and her eyes grow distant."My father was an advisor at Silvermoon," she begins, her voice quiet. "He advised Alpha Aldric. My mother was the personal maid of Luna Margaret… Damian's grandmother. They were trusted. Respected. They had everything they could ever want."I wait."But they were greedy," Greta continues, her vo
Selena's POVThe morning light streams through the tall windows of Sera's chamber, soft and golden. I sit beside her bed, my hands pressed gently to her chest, the warmth of my gift flowing through her body. Her breathing is easier now. The color has returned to her cheeks. Every day, she grows stronger.Greta stands nearby, holding a small cup of dark liquid. Gracia is on the other side of the bed, his hand wrapped around Sera's, his eyes fixed on her face with an intensity that makes my heart ache.I pull my hands back, the glow fading. "She's improving. The poison is weakening. Another few days, and she'll be able to sit up on her own."Gracia's shoulders sag with relief. "Thank you, Luna. I don't know how to…""Don't," I interrupt gently. "Just be here for her. That's enough."Greta steps forward with the cup. "I've prepared a new herbal remedy. It's bitter, I won't lie, but it will help her."Sera eyes
I wake up in a bed that's not mine.That's my first thought. Before I open my eyes, before I remember anything—just that the sheets smell different. Like pine and something else. Something clean and sharp.Then everything comes rushing back. The rejection. The run. The rain. The wolves.I sit up so
I don't remember leaving the pack grounds.One minute I'm on that platform, choking on my own vomit, and the next I'm in my room with my dad shoving clothes into a bag. My hands still won't stop shaking. My whole body shakes. It's like the rejection burned through everything—muscles, bones, the par
My hands won't stop shaking.I press them flat against my thighs, but the tremors just move up my arms. The white dress my mom wore thirty years ago feels too tight around my ribs, or maybe that's just my lungs forgetting how to work."You'll ruin it." My dad's voice comes from behind me. Soft. Car
I wake up to sunlight and the smell of something cooking.For a second, I forget where I am. Think I'm back home, in my tiny room, with Dad making breakfast downstairs. Then I see the white walls, the unfamiliar ceiling, the fireplace with cold ash in it.Right. Silvermoon. Damian's house. Not dead







