Elowen's POV Alaric, sensing the moment, placed a hand on my lower back, his touch firm and proud, and gently guided me into the very center of the nursery, into the heart of the room’s golden light. “You’re not just seeing the future Luna,” he said, his voice steady and strong, carrying easily through the hushed room, a declaration to his pack. “You’re seeing the heir of this pack. The beginning of a new era.” Ranon, ever the proud and slightly cocky one, grinned, a flash of pure triumph. He stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the pack. “And just so we’re clear—our baby will be stronger, smarter, and probably way better-looking than all of us combined. Definitely more charming than Theron here.” Everyone chuckled, a warm ripple of laughter that effectively dissolved the lingering tension, replacing it with a sense of shared joy and anticipation. Even Theron managed a slight, indulgent eye-roll at Ranon’s boast. Theron, for his part, stayed quiet, standing beside me like a d
Elowen’s POV Morning sunlight, ethereal and pure, spilled through the tall, newly hung nursery windows in gentle, golden beams. It caught on the soft cream curtains, chosen specifically for their ability to diffuse the light, and illuminated the sparkling dust motes that danced in the air like tiny, joyful sprites. I sat on the edge of the polished wooden rocking chair, its smooth curves a perfect fit, wrapped in one of Alaric’s oversized, wonderfully comforting sweaters. Its sleeves swallowed my hands, the soft wool a reassuring presence as I cradled a warm mug of fragrant herbal tea, its steam curling up to warm my face. My belly had grown, subtly but undeniably. Just enough for the edge of the sweater to stretch slightly across it, a gentle curve that was becoming more pronounced with each passing day. Just enough to feel truly real, a tangible testament to the life growing within. Just enough for people to start noticing, for the whispers to turn into knowing glances. The tr
Elowen's POV “Absolutely not,” Ranon countered immediately, shaking his head. “Blue. A deep, calming blue. Like the sky at dusk.” “No, no, no,” Theron cut in, his lips twitching with amusement, a mischievous glint in his silver eyes. “Something neutral. Elegant. White with delicate silver accents. Like a winter wonderland.” “You’re all wrong,” Alaric announced, stepping back from the plans, his arms crossed, a smug look on his face. “It’s clearly green. A soft, earthy green. Like the woods, like new life. Calming and grounding.” We debated for a surprisingly long time, each mate presenting their case with impassioned arguments, their voices a comfortable murmur in the sunlit room. We finally compromised on a soft sage green for the walls, with delicate golden trim and accents—a nod to Ranon’s preference for earthy tones, Alaric’s appreciation for natural beauty, and my desire for warmth and light, with a hint of Theron’s elegance. Ranon’s triumphant grin when he meticulously
Elowen’s POV By the time breakfast was over, my cheeks literally ached from the sheer, unadulterated joy that had kept them stretched in a constant smile. The previous night’s terror, the lingering shadows of doubt, had been meticulously, lovingly, banished by my mates. It still amazed me, how easily they made the heaviness in my chest dissolve—with soft, reassuring hands and playful, teasing smirks, with quiet, profound words that somehow always found the cracks in my walls and filled them with warmth, with light. The packhouse was unusually quiet that afternoon, a rare calm settling over everything after the intensity of the past few days. It seemed even the pack was holding its breath, absorbing the momentous news. The four of us, drawn together by an invisible thread, ended up in the west wing of the grand mansion—a large, sunlit room, rarely used, that overlooked a sprawling, ancient oak forest. Its high ceilings and vast windows lent it an airy, almost ethereal quality. “T
Elowen's POV “Stop,” Ranon growled, cutting me off, his voice sharper this time, a command that brooked no argument. He shifted so he could lean over me, his golden eyes blazing down into mine. “You chose us, Elowen. Over everything else. Over the very essence of your being, over the path laid out for you. Do you even understand what that did to us? Knowing you walked away from all that, knowing you turned your back on an unimaginable power, just to be with us? You lit something in me that night, Luna, something ancient and fierce and unyielding, that nothing and no one can ever touch. That man… that pathetic excuse for a threat… he can’t even begin to grasp what you mean to us. What you are to us.” Alaric’s fingers, strong and gentle, tilted my chin up so I had to look at him, into his dark eyes that glittered with a quiet, ferocious love, a love so vast it threatened to consume me. “I don’t care what you gave up, Elowen,” he said softly, his voice imbued with profound truth. “
Elowen’s POV I woke to silence. A profound, sacred stillness that wrapped around me like a warm, protective blanket. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no shouting echoing in my memories, no wind roaring with the phantom sound of magic, no cruel whispers of prophecy or the crushing weight of destiny clinging to my soul. Just the muted hush of morning sunlight, soft and golden, spilling across the luxurious silk sheets, and the steady, rhythmic breathing of three powerful hearts beating in unison around me. I lay there for a long while, suspended between sleep and waking, my eyes half-closed, letting myself fully absorb the comforting weight of them. One arm, heavy and possessive, lay draped across my hip, anchoring me. Another, equally strong, was curled gently around mine. And a third, a large, warm hand, rested lightly over the gentle swell of my stomach, a silent, reverent guardianship. Ranon’s warmth was a solid presence at my back, his breath, even and