***Ariana’s POV“Fuck…”The alarm on my phone blared, jolting me awake, and I blinked groggily, momentarily disoriented. Where was I? As the hazy moonlight filtered through the windows, I took in my surroundings—my new office, lit just enough by the soft glow outside to make out the leather armchair and mahogany desk. My back was pressed up against the arm of the couch, a surprisingly comfortable makeshift bed for the night.“Oh, right,” I murmured, stretching. I’d moved to the couch last night to do some reading and apparently passed out. Guess training really had wiped me out yesterday if I’d slept straight through without so much as a crick in my neck.Rubbing the last traces of sleep from
*** Ariana’s POVThe moment I slipped into the tweed Jackie dress, I felt an unfamiliar flicker of confidence. Its tailored lines and understated elegance made me think of Jackie Kennedy—a timeless, poised aesthetic I’d never associated with myself. I’d have to thank Linda for this one; she had a knack for picking clothes that felt polished yet unassuming, perfectly suited for someone like me who preferred not to stand out.I smoothed the fabric over my hips, checked my reflection, and mumbled to myself, “This should get me through the day without too many stares.”Most of my angst following training this morning had been washed away in the shower but despite my best efforts to convince myself otherwise, I wasn’t ready to brave the mess hall. So, I decided to head straig
*** Draven’s POVHer scent reached me before I heard the knock. That sweet, sharp aroma always tugged at the edges of my focus, like a whisper that refused to go unheard. “Come in,” I called, already bracing myself.The door opened, and Miria stepped inside. My breath caught—she was dressed in a knee-length tweed dress, modest yet polished, exuding a quiet confidence. It wasn’t the kind of outfit meant to draw attention, but it did. It demanded respect.“You look nice today, Miria. Very polished,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My tone was softer than intended, betraying the control I prided myself on.She hesitated a moment, then stepped closer, sitting in the chair opposite me. “My usual joggers seemed inappropriate for my new office space,” she replied lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you for that, by the way. It’s a very comfortable space. I hope taking over the library won’t put out any of the other pack members who might want access to
*** Ariana’s POVLeaving Draven’s office, I was a whirlwind of emotion. Horror at the growing list of packs wiped out, fear from his sudden outburst, and a nauseating sense of relief that there was no one left alive who could identify Miria and expose my lie. But at what cost? The weight of that realization made my stomach churn.I needed to breathe. I needed to get away from Draven, from this packhouse, from everything.My feet carried me toward the staircase on autopilot, my only thought being to change into something more suitable for running and escape into the woods. The packhouse suddenly felt suffocating, its walls pressing in on me like a vice.I had barely made it to the first step when I nearly collided with Simon.“Sorry, Beta,” I mumbled, stepping back. “I was lost in thought.”“No worries,” Simon replied casually, his usual calm demeanor not wavering.Standing next to Simon were two tall, blonde men with striking blue eyes. Twins. They looked around my age but had the air
*** Ariana’s POVI came out of the shower, towel wrapped tightly around me, ready to collapse into bed. The tension from my conversation with Draven still sat heavy on my shoulders, and all I wanted was to escape into sleep. But my plans screeched to a halt when I saw it—a dress. Not just any dress, but a stunning piece of craftsmanship laid out neatly on my bed, complete with a pair of matching black sandals and a small card.Dinner at 6.My heart sank. Socializing wasn’t in my plans, but the dress… I picked it up, and my breath caught at the sight of the “Tracy Reese” label.“Shit,” I muttered, running my fingers over the smooth fabric. “Things just got all presidential.”A nervous laugh bubbled up. “I guess one little dinner won’t hurt.”After a short nap to recharge, I got dressed in the full-sleeve crème peony dress. Its black satin base clung perfectly to my form, with the delicate floral pattern wrapping around the chest and back adding just the right touch of elegance. Pulling
*** Ariana’s POVDinner was over, but the lingering atmosphere of the dining room was as intoxicating as the wine itself. Linda and I remained at the table, letting the conversation flow freely now that the men had retreated. I didn’t expect to find myself laughing this much with her tonight, but here we were, giggling like old friends as the last of the dessert plates were cleared away by attentive omegas.“Honestly,” Linda began, swirling the remnants of her wine in her glass. “I’d never heard of such a thing.”“Of what?” I asked, curious but also wary of where this might lead.“Sharing a Luna!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed from the wine. “I mean, ancient lore and one Canadian Pack aside, it’s just… so unusual.”I choked on the last sip of my wine, nearly spitting it out. “Oh no, Linda, let’s not go there,” I pleaded, shaking my head emphatically.“Why not?” she teased, her grin devilish.“I thought we were friends,” I countered, narrowing my eyes playfully.“We are, and I teas
*** Ariana’s POVThe morning air was sharp, with a chill that nipped at my skin as I stretched on the edge of the packhouse steps. My guards, Michael and Mika, waited a few paces away, as stoic as ever but clearly eager for the run.“Alright, let’s get moving,” I said, shaking out my limbs.“We’ll keep pace,” Mika said, smirking. “But don’t think we’ll let you slack off.”“I’m beginning to think you all enjoy this way too much,” I replied, rolling my eyes as we set off toward the trail.Michael chuckled. “Running clears the head and warms up the muscles. It’s the best way to start the day.”We had barely made it to the trailhead when I caught the unmista
*** Draven’s POVThe day had been a blur, filled with sorting through the aftermath of Hollow Ridge’s destruction.Fate had been unusually cruel to them. Most of the orphans had found homes, which was a small solace, but the lackluster response to the Twin Alphas’ unique Luna request left me frustrated.I couldn’t ignore their predicament—they needed a Luna to stabilize their pack bond. Yet, the idea of “sharing” a mate was too unorthodox for most packs, leaving me to consider options outside my territories.Perhaps the Northwest Territories would provide a viable candidate. Their governance under triplet Alphas who shared a chosen Luna was proof the arrangement could work. The question was whether it would work her
*** Ariana's POVThe corridor outside Ariana’s room felt eerily silent as Cirian stopped at her door. For once, his expression was less predatory and more... calculated. His words during lunch still lingered in her mind, sharp and bitter as the wine she hadn’t touched. He tilted his head slightly, watching her as if trying to decipher her thoughts.“I trust you found the meal to your liking?” he asked smoothly, his tone deceptively casual.Ariana crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the doorframe. “It’s strange,” she said, forcing calm into her voice, “to have such a fine meal in a place that’s so drenched in blood.”Cirian smirked, unbothered. “Ah, but doesn’t blood fertilize the richest soil? Makes everything... thrive.” He stepped back, gesturing toward the door with a flourish. “Rest, my dear. Tonight promises to be enlightening.”Without waiting for her response, he turned and strode down the hall, leaving Ariana staring after him. Enlightening, he’d said. Everything with hi
*** Draven’s POVMiria.The scent of antiseptic stings my nose first, followed by the sterile coldness of the room. The steady beeping of machines grates against my senses. My body feels heavy, my limbs slow to respond, but the fire in my chest is all too real.Miria.Kronos stirs inside me, a restless, prowling presence. His growl echoes in my mind, a single word cutting through the haze.Miria.I lurch upward, my vision blurring as the room spins. The last thing I remember is the forest—the gunshot, her scream, the way the light caught in her eyes.Mate.
*** Ariana’s POVThe hospital café feels incomplete, much like everything else around here. Half the walls are unpainted drywall, their seams taped but not yet sanded. A few tables are scattered around the space, mismatched chairs filling in the gaps. Exposed beams stretch across the ceiling, reminding me of how exposed I feel sitting across from Cirian. Cirian sits across from me at one of the few functional tables, his coffee steaming in his hands. The sharp scent of fresh paint and sawdust hangs faintly in the air, almost masking the herbal notes of my tea.A waiter sets down a small plate of biscuits between us, offering a polite nod before retreating to the far side of the café. We’re mostly alone here, the quiet punctuated only by the occasional sound of construction—hammering, a power drill whining, muffled voices echoing down the halls.The setting is intimate, leaving me nowhere to hide. I lift my tea to my lips, the heat brushing my face, and take a slow sip, buying myself
*** Ariana’s POV…extermination of rogues.A feeling of deja vú settles over me.I can hear the same phrase being repeated in my head but it’s in my father’s voice.I have the sensation of being younger, the days when I would sit on his lap while he worked in the office.Bad actors.Was my father a bad actor?Cirian moves us along, showing me more—the beginnings of a school, a workshop bustling with activity, a communal space where wolves share food and laughter.“This isn’t just a home for rogues,” he says, gesturing to the buildings. “It’s a chance for
*** Ariana’s POVStepping out of the packhouse behind Cirian, I’m greeted by a crisp breeze that carries the sharp scent of pine. We must be farther north than Draven’s pack.Cirian glances back, his steps slowing. “Shall we?” he asks, extending a hand.I don’t take it, but I follow him. That’s answer enough.Despite my best intention to stay calm and civil, the cold bite in the air feels like an apt comparison to my mood.Waking up to Cirian sitting at the end of my bed and chit-chatting at me through the bathroom door while I was changing still has me off-kilter.Thank the Goddess I had swapped out the nightclothes Elara had chosen for me before going to bed.The ground crunches softly beneath our boots as we walk, the wide path leading deeper into the settlement. Ahead, buildings come into view—rows of them, neat but unpolished. Their wooden frames look sturdy, their construction deliberate. Wolves move between them, talking in quiet tones, some carrying supplies, others watching
*** Ariana’s POVElara’s words cling to the air, heavy and wrong, like the echo of a song sung off-key.“I can’t wait to see him again,” she says, her voice soft and distant. The smile on her lips is as fragile as the flame flickering in the hearth, but her eyes… her eyes are the real betrayal. There’s nothing behind them but static.I shift my weight, the creak of the wooden floor grounding me against the surreal tilt of the moment. “When was the last time you talked to James?” I ask, keeping my tone light, almost casual.Elara’s hands, busy smoothing invisible wrinkles from her dress, falter. She blinks, her expression flickering with something—confusion? Uncertainty? “Right before he left,” she says after a pause, the vagueness in her voice like a half-formed thought.The answer settles into my chest like ice water. There’s no time stamp on that comment, nothing specific to anchor it. I know James has been dead for over a month.“And Cirian,” I say slowly, tilting my head as if the
*** Ariana’s POVThe door clicks shut behind me, and I turn automatically, scanning for a lock. My fingers skim the edges of the wood, searching the smooth surface in vain. Nothing. Not even a latch to bar the door from the inside.I exhale in irritation, stepping back to take in the room, my gaze darting from the chest against the far wall to the chair near the fire. Both seem flimsy options to block the door, but I’m already calculating how much noise they’d make if someone tried to come in uninvited.At least I’d have a warning.Pivoting quickly, my breath catches—no, halts altogether. There’s someone sitting on the edge of the bed.“Elara?” I blurt, my voice sharp as I take a reflexive step back. “What the hell?”The woman perched before me doesn’t flinch, her head tilting slightly as if I were the intruder.“Miss Ariana,” she says softly, her lips curling into a small, fragile smile. It’s disarming, but only because it doesn’t erase the dark circles under her eyes or the hollows i
*** Ariana’s POVCirian leans back in his chair, fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass. The soft candlelight flickers across his face, sharpening the angles of his jawline and casting shadows under his eyes.“You know,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “the first time I saw you, I thought you were going to kill a man.”I blink at him, startled by the statement. My fork hovers over the plate as I meet his gaze. “What?”His smile lingers for a moment, but there’s something wistful in his expression. “It was outside your pack’s border. I’d been tracking a rogue, hoping to bring him into my fold, but I lost him in the woods.”The fi
*** Ariana’s POVThe candlelight flickers softly across the table, its warm glow catching on the edges of the dark wood. The food smells incredible—roasted meat, buttery vegetables, and a faint hint of herbs I can’t place—but I can’t bring myself to eat.Cirian seems perfectly at ease, enjoying his stake like it’s Sunday dinner with the family. His glass of wine sits untouched beside him, though he glances at it occasionally as if debating whether to take a sip.“You’ve changed,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence.I glance up sharply, my fork still hovering over my plate. “Have I?”He smiles faintly, setting his knife down. “Yes. You carry yourself differently now—more confident. More… focused.”The compliment feels like a trap, and I carefully lower my fork back to the plate. “Life has a way of doing that to people.”