The forest pressed heavily against Reule’s senses. Damp moss, old stone, the distant crackle of broken twigs under careless feet. He inhaled sharply. Beneath the noise and the scents, he caught a faint Wren's smell. He jerked his chin toward Landon, who crouched a few yards away, weapons ready.“She’s close,” Reule growled.Landon nodded once.“Trail cuts east, near the ruins.”Reule didn’t waste his breath replying. His wolf clawed at his skin, frantic to run ahead, to tear down anything standing between him and Wren. But instinct sharpened his focus because he couldn't afford to make mistakes now. Otherwise, it would cost her life.They moved fast and silently, threading between trees, avoiding the obvious traps — snares, spiked pits, even cruder things like tripwires woven into roots. Acwulf’s men weren’t subtle, but they were desperate, making them dangerous.“Think she’s still running?” Landon asked under his breath.Reule’s jaw tightened.“She never stopped.”In the cold mouth o
The forest felt heavier the closer they got to the border, like the trees themselves were holding their breath. I stumbled, catching myself against Reule’s side. He didn’t hesitate to loop an arm around my waist and kept me moving without missing a step.“You sure you’re not dead?” Landon muttered ahead of us, tossing a smirk over his shoulder.“Feels like it,” I rasped, trying to match his grin.Reule shot Landon a glare sharp enough to slice stone. “Maybe you’d like to carry her?”Landon snorted. “Nah, you’re doing great, Alpha. Real nurturing. Very inspiring.”“I’ll shove my fist down your throat if you don’t shut up,” Reule growled under his breath.I tried to laugh to break the thick tension. It was a small thing, barely a whisper against the roaring panic in my veins, but it kept me moving. Behind us, Mira limped along, half-carrying Lark, who was still unconscious. Ivar hovered at their side, sharp-eyed, ready to jump if they faltered.It almost felt normal until the wind sh
The doors of the Black Pack’s great hall slammed open with a deafening bang, rattling dust from the stone arches above. Acwulf stalked in, his heavy boots striking the marble floor in sharp, angry steps. Every conversation inside died instantly. Warriors, omegas, and even the elder council members turned to stare.Alpha Thorne sat lazily atop his throne at the far end of the room, one leg draped casually over the other, a goblet of wine dangling from his fingers. His dark eyes gleamed with interest as he watched Acwulf storm toward him like a storm about to break. He figured that his beta would come and seek help for the mess he created.Thorne didn’t move. He didn't need to. His mere presence commanded the room."Alpha, could we have a private conversation?" Acwulf said with a voice calm but dangerous.The warriors standing around Thorne bristled, but Thorne lifted a hand, waving them off like flies. "Acwulf, you have been away for so long. I was already thinking my Beta was dead. D
The wind snapped at my hair as I stood on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around myself. The night felt wrong, too quiet. The woods beyond Reule’s territory loomed dark and heavy, like something was crouched inside them, waiting. I shivered and rubbed my arms, trying to shake off the feeling gnawing at my gut.Footsteps creaked behind me. I didn’t need to turn. I knew him; the weight of his steps, heavy and certain, as the earth answered only to him."You shouldn't be out here alone," Reule said, his voice low and rough."I'm not alone," I whispered, staring into the trees.I felt him step closer. His warmth reached me before his hands did, brushing against my back, steady and strong against the rising unease curling through me."Even so, don't tempt trouble," he said, his breath fanning my ear.I tilted my head back just enough to catch the smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth."Why?" I murmured. "You planning to punish me?"He snorted, the sound rough and amused. "You’re already
The smell of roasted herbs and garlic pulled me from my thoughts. I sat on the edge of the couch, legs tucked under me, wrapped in the soft sweater Reule had dropped off two days ago. He hadn't said a word when he handed it to me, just tossed it onto the bed and walked out. I’d only cut the tag off this morning.The fire crackled in the hearth, flickering shadows against the stone walls. I wasn’t cold, just restless. Then, the door eased open.“I made dinner,” Reule said, stepping inside with a tray. “Thought you’d be tired of soup.”“You thought right,” I muttered, watching him cross the room.“Please tell me you didn’t cook just to impress me.”“No,” he said easily, setting the tray down. “I cooked to feed you. Impressing you is just a bonus.”I raised an eyebrow. “What’s the dish?”“Grilled chicken with wild rice and lemon thyme sauce. Roasted carrots on the side.”He smirked. “Try not to faint.”“I’m impressed.”He gave a little mock bow. “My greatest honor.”I smiled despite
The council chamber was colder than any battlefield. It was made up of stone walls, iron thrones, and now with silence that hummed like a warning. I wasn’t supposed to be here. But waiting for news while Reule stood trial for me? That was never going to happen.Landon didn’t stop me. He just gave me a long look, like a man too tired to argue with fate. I slipped through the side gallery, my heart pounding against my ribs. Hidden behind one of the columns, I scanned the room below. Reule stood alone before the five elders, wearing a black robe, sharp-eyed, and judging.“I don’t answer feelings,” Elias, the head counselor, was saying, his voice echoing. “I answer to structure. You’ve broken that.”Reule didn’t even blink. “Structure bends. Or it breaks.”Mara, thin-lipped and cold, clicked her tongue. “It breaks when Alphas let their hormones guide strategy.”He turned his head slightly, slow and calculated. “You have something to say, Councilor?”“You’re compromised,” she said. “E
There was a knock at the outer gate. It was firm and precise, like whoever stood there wasn’t lost, afraid, or unsure but invited. This made no sense because no one got invited into Gray Pack territory without Reule’s permission or order.Landon was the one who found her and escorted her, actually, through the warded gate. She was not in chains, and she wasn't a threat. But with suspicion at every step.Reule stood on the front steps of the main house as the stranger approached. I watched from behind the window, arms folded, heart thumping without reason.She wasn’t a wolf. That much was obvious. Human? Maybe. But she carried herself like someone who had nothing to fear. She was tall and lean, her dark coat crisp despite the muddy roads, and her hair pinned back like she’d stepped out of a war room, not a car.“I asked you to explain why you’re here,” Reule said evenly.“I’m not here to threaten your pack,” she replied, my voice smooth. “I came to deliver a message. Wren is in danger
Morning sunlight spilled across the bed, golden and warm against my bare shoulders. I was tangled in sheets that smelled like him and the kind of heat that clung even when he wasn’t touching me.Reule hadn’t moved much during the night. He lay behind me, arm slung over my waist, breathing deep and steady. For a man who barely slept, he looked peaceful, dangerous, and soft all at once.I turned slowly in his hold, watching his lashes flick once as he stirred.“You’re staring,” he mumbled, a voice rasped with sleep.“You’re smug about it,” I shot back softly.One eye opened. “Only because you’re still here.”I grinned. “Too warm. And your sheets are soft.”“You’re soft.”“Liar,” I muttered, brushing my thumb across his stubbled jaw.He caught my hand and kissed the center of my palm. “No. Just lucky.”It was quiet for a while. It was just us and the warmth between us, the kind that didn’t come from heat, but from knowing someone chose you when they didn’t have to.“I like this,” I sa
The scent of roasted garlic hit me like a punch to the stomach. I was mid-stir at the stove, trying to be helpful for once in the kitchen when the nausea slammed into me. My knees buckled, and I dropped the spoon with a clatter, one hand flying to my mouth as I sprinted toward the sink.Behind me, Adriana’s voice floated in, far too cheerful for someone witnessing my demise. “That sounded dramatic. Should I grab a bucket or a priest?”I groaned over the sink, willing my stomach to behave. “Neither. Just… kill me quickly.”Adriana leaned against the counter, biting into an apple like we weren’t seconds away from me vomiting again. “You’ve been sick three mornings this week. And now mid-afternoon. Something you want to share with the class?”“It’s just something I ate,” I muttered.“Uh-huh.” She took another bite. “Or maybe it’s someone you mated.”I turned slowly. “That’s a very inappropriate accusation.”She grinned. “Not when you’re glowing.”“I’m not glowing. I’m sweaty and p
They dressed me in silence. Nana Lolita’s fingers were steady as she fastened the back of my gown, smoothing the silk across my spine. Adriana stood behind her, holding a pale veil that shimmered like stardust. My breath fogged the mirror in front of me, and still, I didn’t move.“You don’t have to be nervous, but if you are, it’s allowed," Nana Lolita said gently.“I’m not scared,” I whispered.“Then what is it?”“I just… want to remember every second of this.”Adriana placed the circle atop my head, her smile reflected beside mine. “You will. We all will.”The gown felt lighter than it looked. The fabric floated around my legs like the wind, and the moon embroidery across the sleeves glowed faintly under the candlelight. But it wasn’t the dress that made me feel different. It was the mark this night would leave. The night I became his.—They guided me out of the house, past rows of flickering lanterns, down a trail lined with white petals. The entire pack waited in the clearing. Th
I held the sealed envelope between my fingers, its edges still warm from the messenger’s hand. A single word had been scrawled on the front in slanted script:Luna.My breath caught as I traced the ink. The title felt surreal, new, like I hadn’t quite earned it, but the whole pack already believed I had.“Open it,” Reule said, his voice low, eyes still locked on the letter like it might explode.I slipped a finger under the seal and peeled it open slowly. Inside was a simple note, handwritten in delicate penmanship:Luna Wren,Your mating ritual robe is ready.It awaits you in the greenhouse. —N.L.My brow furrowed. “N.L.?”Reule stepped closer. “Nana Lolita.”Of course. My heart eased.“She could’ve just told me,” I muttered, trying to hide how touched I felt.Reule chuckled. “That’s her way. She likes theatrics when she’s proud. And tonight, she’s more than proud.”I held the note to my chest, the moment sinking in. I was really going to become his mate and his Luna.“We’ll have
The night air buzzed with celebration. Lanterns hung from the trees, casting a soft amber glow over the pack grounds. Laughter echoed around me as members of the Gray Pack danced barefoot in the grass, their joy contagious. Smoke curled from the grills, mixing with the scent of roasted meat and sweet herbs. The sound of drums beat in time with the thrum in my chest.And yet, all I could focus on was him. Reule stood near the bonfire, dressed in black, but not his usual; he looked regal. A black button-up shirt that clung to his frame, sleeves rolled just enough to expose the veins in his forearms. His hair was slicked back, and stormy eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on me.“Stop staring,” Adriana teased as she handed me a cup of warm cider.“I wasn’t staring,” I said, too fast.“You kind of were.”I nudged her with my elbow. “You’re imagining things.”“No, I’m not,” she said with a smirk. “And neither is he. He’s been watching you all night like he’s memorizing you.”I sipp
The eastern clearing had never looked more alive. Lanterns swayed from tree branches, casting pools of golden light on the packed earth below. A breeze danced through the pines, lifting the scent of roasted meat and crushed herbs. Everywhere I turned, I saw the people I’d been trying to belong to gathered in clusters, eyes lifted to the sky, awaiting the rise of the full moon.And me? I stood just behind the ritual stone, my heart rattling inside my chest like it wanted to escape before I made a fool of myself. I wore no armor tonight, no cloak to hide behind, but just a simple silver-threaded robe that brushed my ankles, bound at the waist with a thin sash. My hair had been left down, curling in dark waves over my shoulders. Nothing about me screamed power, yet I could feel the weight of the entire pack pressing down on me.The elders stood at the edge of the circle. Marla’s expression was unreadable. Elias, beside her, gave a small nod. Reule stood farther back, arms folded, eyes lo
When the first hint of sunlight painted the treetops in gold, I was back at the edge of the council house, boots heavy with dew and pine needles stuck to my coat. The forest had been calm, eerily so. There was not a single twig cracked where it shouldn't or no tracks where they didn’t belong. I had expected the night to test me, but nothing came. There was no shadow in the trees and no whispered warning from the wind. There was just silence. Maybe that was the real test.I stepped through the front hall where the elders were already gathered. Elias turned his head as I approached, and the others followed his gaze. I saw no warmth in their eyes, but something had shifted. Curiosity, maybe, or calculation."You returned with the dawn," Elias noted, as if I might’ve chosen otherwise."I did. The border was quiet all night. I swept the route twice. Nothing unusual.""No scents?" Marla pressed, arms crossed. "No markings? No movement?""Nothing," I said. "It was clear.""Hmm." She didn
I expected rest. Maybe an hour or at least five minutes before I start my task. Instead, the council sent me straight from breakfast to the infirmary.“Clean her up and keep her standing,” someone barked.When I arrived, the healer’s lodge was already brimming with the injured. Some were warriors still recovering from previous encounters or during patrols, and others were refugees that the pack planned to take in. The scent of blood and herbs twisted my gut, but I swallowed it down and stepped inside. Lyselle, the head healer, eyed me with something between suspicion and intrigue. “Take that rag,” she said, pointing at the stained cloth on the bench. “And don’t flinch when it bleeds.”I didn’t. Not when I had to press gauze into a gaping thigh wound or when a burn blistered open under my fingers. The hours went by with steaming poultices, low groans, and tightly clenched jaws.Lyselle finally paused. “You’re steadier than most of the trainees.”“I’ve had practice,” I murmured, pre
The infirmary smelled like pine alcohol and sweat. It buzzed with quiet urgency, healers moving quickly, whispering diagnoses, wrapping wounds. I stood just outside the door, leaning against the cold stone wall. My hands were still shaking. Whether it was from exhaustion or fury, I didn’t know.Inside, Tovi sat beside Mara’s cot, gripping her fingers with one hand and cradling Kellan with the other. Reule hadn’t left their side once. His coat was still wrapped around them all, like a barrier between them and the world that had abandoned them.“I told you not to die,” I murmured to myself, eyes locked on Tovi’s hunched frame. “So don’t even think about it now.”A hand brushed my arm. I turned, expecting a healer. It was Reule.“Come sit.”“I’m fine.”“You look like hell.”“Charming.”“I’ve been told.” He offered a small smile, the only kind I ever got. Still, I didn’t move. I kept my eyes on the children. “They were freezing and starving. Mara’s leg might have been broken for days.
The wind clawed at my coat as I cleared the ridge beyond the gorge, my boots biting into frost-hardened soil. Moonrise was a lifetime away, yet the weight of it was already pressed on my shoulders. Every breath was a visible wisp in the cold morning air, and every sound of the branches snapping and snow shifting felt sharper, more pointed. I was alone, and for the first time since Acwulf’s prison, I welcomed it. They didn’t think I’d make it back. I’d give them a reason to regret sending me out here with nothing but my instincts and the fire in my chest.The scent trail was faint but real, feral, and young. Three distinct signatures. They were close once. The river’s edge was thick with ice and slush, and I had to navigate carefully, knowing one wrong step could plunge me beneath.A child’s whimper cracked the silence. I froze. It was ahead, somewhere beyond the tree line. Low to the ground, muffled, but real. My heart thudded as I crouched, brushing aside a bush dusted in snow, there