Final Chapter Genevieve’s POVThe pack gathered at the ridge by dusk, drawn not by ceremony but by instinct by something older than custom or title. The grass was soft beneath our feet, lit gold by the dying sun, and the wind carried the scent of pine, earth, and something warmer. Hope.André stood beside me in the clearing, not dressed in anything ceremonial just a black shirt with the sleeves rolled, boots dusty from the trail. No armor. No crown. No sharp edges.Just him.The wolf who forgot. The man who came back.The mate who chose me again.I could feel the pulse of the bond thudding beneath my skin, stronger now than it had ever been, like it had survived death itself and grown louder for it.“I thought it would feel different,” I murmured, adjusting the hem of my dress as we stood facing each other.He tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Does it feel wrong?”“No,” I said. “It feels… quiet. Like I’m not fighting for you anymore.”“That’s because you don’t have to.”Keira stood
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