Blossom POV I head back to our room to grab a blanket for Dean. "He could have at least gotten himself a blanket," I mutter to myself as I trudge down the hallway again. After gently covering Dean with the thin blanket, I return to our room, ready to finally get some well-deserved rest. The next morning, I wake up bright and early, feeling optimistic about the day. My baby isn't overwhelming me today, for which I am grateful. "Maybe he's finally realizing it's not ideal to be outsmarted by his unborn form," I chuckle at the thought and then check in mentally with him. "How are you doing in there?" I ask. D.L., my unborn baby, tells me he's doing fine but just a bit exhausted from keeping my intelligence, combat readiness, and other abilities heightened, just in case of any residual threats from the farmhouse confrontation. I reassure him that everything is taken care of and he can focus on growing and developing into a healthy, full-term, Lycan baby. His little eyes start to fl
Blossom POV Priscilla lets loose a laugh that sounds more like an over-the-top, boisterous cackle—something that might be forced to incite laughter in others, but in Priscilla's case, it's genuine. After she finishes, she takes off her glasses, breathing onto the lenses to clear them, using the hem of her stained t-shirt to wipe away the smudges. I can't help but smile when I notice Priscilla has a mole on her chin, just like my father did. Up until now, I hadn't realized how unique that trait was. Seeing her in a new light, I tell her, "Priscilla, I'm not going to pretend I know the revised code sections and ordinances. I'd have a better shot at guessing how old those glasses are or the story behind that shirt. Even Dean wouldn't have a clue," I add, glancing at Dean, who gives me a 'don't drag me into this' look. Priscilla sits back down, her expression far softer than before, and she seems less like the eccentric character I first perceived. "Today marks the start of your train
Blossom POV Once Priscilla grew tired of my unsuccessful attempts at teleportation, she flatly instructed me to just use the door. "We've spent enough time trying to get you to appear only five feet ahead. Your impressive Alpha here can dematerialize and travel anywhere in the world in a matter of seconds. You did speak with your parents in that cellar, right? And Eliza too?" "How do you possibly know that?" I demanded, shooting a glance at Dean. "It wasn't Dean," she retorted. "I just know things, girly. Far more than you grasp with your current understanding of things around here," Priscilla continued, delivering a sharp dose of reality. Dean stayed silent, thinking I might benefit from a little humility. Perhaps I should trust her, too, I thought. "Okay then... I was in the cellar and Eliza appeared. She explained a bit about the fabric of time and space, mentioning that she was just a holographic projection of her memory. I remember it clearly. She said that the event of our
Blossom POV I heard Priscilla say, "Welcome to the airwaves, dear." "Wait, I can hear you now?" I asked, surprised. "You've always been able to hear everything, Blossom. You just need to learn to control the volume of things that don't serve you—like conflicts among friends or debates with your partner. Overthinking daily choices, like what to wear, can drown out the important messages the world is trying to convey. Are you following me?" Priscilla's lessons were beginning to resonate with me. "The airwaves, then?" I asked for clarification. "Yes," she replied. "The airwaves consist of every frequency that maintains the fabric of creation. When you think or feel, you're transmitting frequencies along these airwaves. This is how you connect with your unborn child. He may not be 'alive' in the traditional sense now, but he was very much alive as recently as you and I perceive it. Think of it like this: he's nearer to his last life than you are to this birth, ready to release past
Blossom POV "I have to tell him," I state firmly. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give him the chance to process this in his own way. It's his past. We're not talking about 'who ate Dean's last protein bar'—this is life-altering knowledge. I can't believe I've buried it for so long," I lament, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I turn to Priscilla with gratitude filling my heart. "Thank you, Priscilla. You've been an honorary mother, watching over us from the shadows. You have my appreciation and my love," I say as tears brim in my eyes, and soon Priscilla joins me in tears. "Stop, you little rascal, or I'll blow my nose right on you!" Priscilla jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Just then, Maria enters from the living room, and I rush to give her the biggest hug I've had in years. Holding me while I cry, Maria glances over my shoulder at Priscilla, silently asking, "You told her?" Priscilla nods, tears in her eyes too. Maria gently pulls me back, brushing my hair a
Blossom POV When Dean finally manages to stifle his laughter at the revelation I've just shared, he stares up at the ceiling and says, "I always thought he only said that to motivate me to work harder. Maybe it was a tactic to break me down so he could rebuild me into the perfect obedient soldier-son." "Aries said you were adopted?" I ask, searching his expression. "He never came right out and said it, but there have always been hints since childhood. I assumed Ares was more emotionally available for Caleb because I was destined for Alphahood and wasn't supposed to be groomed for emotions. I often felt like an outsider during family gatherings, like I didn't belong. There's only one part of this that troubles me deeply," Dean pauses. "Your mother?" I fill in the blank, and he nods. "Why couldn't she tell me? I never felt that the love she gave me was any different from what she gave Caleb. So why wouldn't she have just told me eventually? I need to see her. I need to talk to my m
Blossom POV We arrive at the nearest hospital to the villa and are quickly ushered into the maternity wing. I undergo a thorough examination by a midwife, and it's confirmed—I'm ready to deliver. Dean remains in the room while the rest of our guests are asked to wait in the nearby area. I'm already dressed in a hospital gown, and Dean has changed into scrubs, complete with a plastic face mask. I've decided against any nerve block or epidural because I don't want to take any unnecessary risks. The doctors explain the potential complications involved, and because I've opted out of anesthesia, I'm moved to a room where it's not possible for me to shift forms. A memory flashes through my mind of the cellar where my captors held me prisoner, using metal mesh to confine me. I can't help but wonder if that's the same material they used. Just then, another contraction hits me, and I determine to remain focused on what's about to happen. "I love you, Dean," I begin to cry. Dean, looking p
Blossom POV Yet rather than feel grief, Dean finds a strange sense of relief. Part of him believes that all of Boo's essence has returned to his soul. Another part wonders if Boo simply ran off because no one was caring for him. He realizes he needs clarity, so he decides to talk to Jovielyn to confirm that his dream wasn't just a figment of his imagination. I sense it wasn't just a dream either. I reassure Dean that I heard the same deep voice when my parents welcomed me into the Lycan royal family. He believes me, yet he still craves validation about all the other details. There are too many questions swirling in his mind. The absence of Priscilla at the villa disappoints me, as Dean is eager to consult her about everything that has transpired. Maria mentions, "She probably went to see Jovielyn." "Okay, that's where we need to go then. I'm sure that mom will love meeting her grandson," Dean responds to me. "Come on! We just got home! Can we at least stay for one night?" I plea
Fina POV.Upon deciding to use Aries' money to fulfill Eliza's dream of traveling the world, I, make it clear to the two women traveling with me that they too are entitled to a share. I tell them that wherever we are in the world, without exception, if they want to take their part of the money and separate from me, they are more than welcome to do so.And so, our journey begins, with my net worth sitting comfortably at the upper end of six hundred million dollars. We look over Eliza's itinerary to decide where to start our adventure.We take a private jet from the local airstrip to the old JFK airport in the NYT (New York Territory). Because Dean has always wanted to see Times Square, we stay in NYPT for a few weeks, soaking in the sights. While there, we visit a renowned travel agent who helps us prepare for the trip: we get vaccinated, obtain our passports, learn the ins and outs of currency exchange, and shop for essentials. With everything set, we embark on our journey to South Am
The organization known as the "Royal Werewolf Council," formerly the Royal Central Bank, rose to power as the dominant global government in the aftermath of the Great Werewolf-War. They spearheaded the reconstruction of local government infrastructures worldwide and reorganized the planet's workforce. By channeling investments into these efforts, they also developed a new currency and trade system. It became evident, however, that these investments were part of the Royal Central Bank's long-standing and devious plan. For over a century, they had meticulously orchestrated a scheme to gain global control through manipulation and strategic foresight. Their machinations led to a catastrophic war by providing aid to any country willing to adopt their centralist banking system. By doing so, they patiently awaited a conflict that would persuade nations to turn against one another. As each country became embroiled in conflict, alliances broke, and trade partnerships soured under the manipula
Jovielyn always cherished the arrival of spring. There was something enchanting about a cool spring afternoon, the gentle breeze weaving through the newly sprouting leaves, rousing them from winter’s harsh grip. Magic seemed to linger in the air during this season, which revealed itself on the day she met Virgilio.On that particular day, Jovielyn was by the lakefront outside the castle walls, absorbed in her philosophy book while savoring the fresh air. The castle wasn’t her home back then; it belonged to the Knight family, whom she had never encountered face-to-face—until that day.Virgilio led a group of men on a training run around the lake. She noticed them from across the water but remained unfazed, lounging on the grass beneath a willow tree that draped over the lake. Unbeknownst to them, she was there when Virgilio, at the helm of the exercise, accidentally stumbled over her.His companions continued running, laughing at the scene, but Virgilio stopped, feeling the need to apo
Blossom POV As I entered the dining room, my heart raced at the sight of Alejandro in the midst of a business meeting with a group of dubious-looking individuals. He seemed entirely caught off guard by our unexpected arrival. A smile flickered across his face as he muttered something beneath his breath, waiting for us to approach. With a façade that was more unsettling than charming, he nervously ran his fingers through his mustache and exclaimed, "My lovely niece and her Alpha mate! How delightful to see you both! It feels like an eternity since we last met." Dean, not one to tolerate his pretense, interjected bluntly, "Even that would be far too soon." I couldn't help but chuckle at my mate's humor, but I quickly focused on the real reason we had come to Alejandro's home. I glared at the man who had once wielded enough power to manipulate me, the man who had stolen everything from both me and Diana for his self-serving gain. Alejandro had become the bane of my existence, and now
Blossom POV The steamy air of the villa's shower enveloped us, a sanctuary of warmth and intimacy. Dean and I had teleported here before picking up our son, a desperate need for cleansing outweighing everything else. We stood together, the hot water cascading over our bodies, washing away the remnants of a nightmarish ordeal. It was the first time in ages we'd shared a shower, and the intimacy of it was intoxicating. Dean's hands, rough and strong, traced the curves of my body, a silent language of love and longing. I, in turn, ran my fingers across his solid midsection, a familiar comfort that ignited a fire within us. We were a whirlwind of emotions, a symphony of desire and desperation. The remnants of the night clung to us, a grim reminder of the horrors we'd faced. We scrubbed away the blood, the brain matter, the unknown fluids that had stained our skin. The thick soap lathered our bodies, a cleansing ritual that transcended the physical. It was a shared experience, a testam
Blossom POV In just a matter of seconds, the atmosphere in the courthouse transformed dramatically. The once-bustling room was now filled with an eerie stillness as everyone present found themselves completely paralyzed by my voice. Just moments before the Primary Elder's heart would have collapsed within his thoracic cavity, I abruptly halted my song, sensing the urgency of the moment. Dean then stepped in, his voice adopting a firm yet fatherly tone as he addressed the assembly of Elders. "You have a choice, Councilmen," he declared, his presence commanding attention. "You can either come forward, bow before us, and kiss our feet, renouncing any semblance of power you believe you may still possess—this is a courtesy we are under no obligation to extend to you. Alternatively, you can relinquish all the minuscule authority that resides within your frail, sagging bodies right here in front of everyone assembled today. You have ten seconds to make your decision. Choose wisely. Ten."
Blossom POV "Baby... baby!!!" I exclaimed in a frantic voice, slapping Dean gently across the face while pouring water over his head in an effort to jolt him awake. He finally sat up, a dazed expression crossing his features, and I could see that everyone present at the tournament stared at him with an incredulous blend of astonishment and curiosity. It only took a moment for him to realize his vulnerability, the reality of his complete nudity hitting him hard. He turned to me, confusion etched on his face, and asked, "What happened?" "You got tangled up in a clinch with Tristan over there," I explained, my voice steady, though I was bursting with emotions. "He managed to break away and put you into a headlock. You refused to tap out, and the moment you lost consciousness, you shifted. I was terrified—you almost turned Tristan into your next meal. Thankfully, after shifting, you seemed to remain out cold, but it looked like you were trapped in one hell of a nightmare." As I assess
Blossom POV As the referee signals the start of the match, Dean adopts a loose but balanced stance to counter whatever strategy this man may employ. His opponent firmly squares up in a southpaw Muay Thai stance and begins to close the distance slowly. Determined not to be overpowered right away, Dean begins to hop around a bit, attempting to distract the man and disrupt his line of sight. However, his efforts prove ineffective; the man stays locked on him, advancing steadily with resolve. Recognizing that this competitor will not back down easily, Dean makes a split-second decision: he mirrors the man's Muay Thai stance and braces himself to absorb the oncoming jabs. Utilizing his slightly larger build to his advantage, Dean manages to clinch with the man, forcing him to the ground. Once both men hit the floor, Dean gains a dominant position, achieving full mount before spinning around to take his opponent's back. It quickly becomes apparent that his challenger lacks proficiency i
Blossom POV Several of the men who have gathered here tonight show little interest in assuming a leadership role. Many of them are elderly war veterans who have transitioned into political positions over the course of their lives. Dean takes the initiative to approach them, inquiring whether they would like to take on the role of referees for the matches. To his delight, most of them readily accept the offer, as it allows them to remain actively involved in this significant event. They genuinely appreciate Dean's inclusive approach, which values their experience and contributions. With everything now set into motion and every participant prepared, the first round of combat begins. Dean has decided that he will join the matches during the third round, as he is presently occupied with assisting Caleb in organizing the matchups and deciding on the proper measures for when the sun sets. As I watch, I observe Dean glancing towards Caleb, who is smiling as he surveys the crowd and the f