Rosalee's Point of View As Jensen and I walk back towards the house, guilt gnaws at me. I never meant for Josh to worry, it wasn’t my intention to run off without explaining myself. I just needed some space. I needed to breathe, to run. But now, with the cool night air brushing against my skin and my heart no longer racing, I regret not reassuring him sooner. The porch light casts a warm glow, illuminating the front of the house as we approach. Josh stands there, his posture straightening the moment his eyes land on me. His expression is a mix of relief and quiet concern, though he says nothing at first. I offer him a small, apologetic smile, my voice gentle as I say, "I’m sorry, Josh. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… needed to run, to clear my mind." Josh studies me for a moment, then gives a small nod of his head, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. Before he can say anything, Jensen speaks up beside me. "Thank you, Josh. You can take off for the night, I’ve got it fro
Jensen's Point of View As I stir awake, a rare excitement hums through my veins. Last night, Rosalee and I truly connected for the first time, a shift in the air between us, a step forward. I can feel it. She’s finally letting me in, and I won’t let this opportunity go to waste. With that thought, I immediately reach out through the pack’s mind link. "Morning, Ronan. I’m taking the day off to spend with Rosalee. If anything important comes up, let me know." His response is almost instant. "On it, Alpha." Next, I reach out to Josh. "Hi, Josh. Just letting you know you don’t need to shadow Rosalee today." "Thank you, Alpha," he replies without hesitation. One last thing. I connect with Nyx. "Morning, Nyx. Rosalee won’t be training today. You can continue with her sessions tomorrow." Nyx’s answer comes just as fast. "Sure. Her muscles could use a day of rest anyway." With everything handled, I push back the covers and get out of bed, already looking forward to the day ah
Rosalee's Point of View As we step into the lake, hand in hand, I brace myself for the shock of cold water, expecting the usual chill that comes with stepping into a natural body of water. But to my surprise, the temperature is perfect, cool enough to be refreshing but warm enough to feel like a gentle embrace against my skin. I turn to Jensen, curiosity flickering in my eyes. “How did you know the water wouldn’t be cold?” He shrugs nonchalantly, his dark brown hair catching the sunlight in reddish streaks. “It just always is the perfect temperature.” I frown slightly, tilting my head. “Haven’t you ever wondered why?” A smirk tugs at his lips, and I already know he’s about to say something teasing. “Well, there’s this legend in my pack that this lake’s water is infused with magic.” I let out a small chuckle at that, the idea sounding almost too whimsical. Jensen’s smirk fades into a playful frown. “What? Lycans, werewolves, and even hybrids can exist, but you draw the lin
Jensen's Point of View The tension in the room is thick as we go over the last minute details, everyone keenly aware of how crucial today’s alliance meeting is. The air hums with silent anticipation as I scan the faces of the warriors standing before me. "Are you clear on where you will be stationed for the meeting? I want everyone in sight so they don’t feel ambushed." My voice is steady, firm. Josh and the four other men nod their heads in unison, their expressions resolute. They understand the importance of making the werewolf packs feel safe enough to even consider working with us. I turn my attention to Marcel and Piper. “I want you standing with us. I know you’re only here to testify to Crimsonclaw’s cruelty, but I don’t want any surprises.” Marcel nods his head without hesitation, his voice carrying the weight of experience. “Understood. This meeting is too important to let it go sideways because of a misunderstanding.” With the plan set, we make our way outside to t
Jensen's Point of View I take a steadying breath, my gaze sweeping across the alphas gathered around me. The weight of their stares press against me, a mixture of skepticism, curiosity, and a deep rooted distrust. The tension in the clearing is thick, but I push forward. "I know how all of you feel about Lycans," I begin, my voice firm yet measured. "But now is not the time to let old grudges dictate our future. This threat is bigger than all of us. Crimsonclaw is growing bolder, more ruthless with each attack. They started by attacking Lycan packs unprovoked, small strikes at first, taking just enough lives to weaken them without drawing too much attention." I pause, letting the words settle, watching their reactions. Some remain impassive, but others shift slightly, their interest piqued. I glance toward Marcel, gesturing towards him as I continue. "A few days ago, they took it a step further. They attacked Alpha Marcel’s pack and wiped out nearly half of his people. Innocent
Rosalee's Point of View The walk back to the SUVs is quiet, the weight of the meeting still lingering in the air. The only sound is the rustling of leaves beneath our feet and the distant call of birds in the trees. The meeting had gone better than expected, but the tension hasn’t fully lifted. Once we climb into the SUV, Jensen takes the driver’s seat, Marcel settles into the front passenger side, while Piper and I slide into the back. The familiar hum of the engine rumbles to life as Jensen starts the car, and we begin the long drive back to the pack’s territory. For a while, no one speaks. The road ahead of us stretches out, winding through the dense forest, the sunlight filtering through the trees in streaks of gold. I rest my head against the cool glass of the window, watching as the trees blur past in shades of deep green and earthy brown. Marcel is the first one to break the silence. “Well, that went a lot better than I expected it too.” Jensen lets out a small chuck
Jensen's Point of View The air in my office is thick with concentration, the only sounds being the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard and the occasional rustling of papers. Nyx, Ronan, and I are gathered around my desk, working on finalizing the alliance agreement. The document displayed on the computer screen outlines the terms we’ve spent hours debating, a pact between werewolf packs and Lycans, a united front against a common threat. Crimsonclaw. Ronan leans back in his chair, running a hand through his dark hair. His expression is thoughtful, yet resolute. "This alliance will be the turning point for the war between our two species," he says. "Once other packs learn about it, they might be more inclined to join too." I nod my head, my eyes still scanning the screen as I fine tune the wording of a particularly delicate clause. The agreement needs to be solid, binding. Trust is fragile, and we can't afford any misinterpretations that could cause rifts down the line. Nyx, who h
Rosalee's Point of View I stir awake, my mind clouded with thoughts of last night. The guilt feels heavier today, sitting deep in my chest like a stone. The more time I spend with Jensen, the more I start to doubt everything I have believed up until now. The war, the werewolves, the Lycans... what if I have been seeing this all wrong? I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face. This spying needs to end. Today, I’ll gather as much information as I can about the alliance agreement, and if Freya’s so called “friends” don’t want to join, then I’m done. No more secrets. No more betraying Jensen. The decision brings a strange sense of relief, even as the weight of it settles on my shoulders. With a reluctant sigh, I throw back the warm covers and step out of bed. My feet hit the cold floor, jolting me fully awake. I move to the closet, pulling out my usual training attire, black tights, a fitted sports bra, an oversized t-shirt, and my trainers. This has become my go to outfit for my
Rosalee's Point of View I wander aimlessly through the house after having lunch with Jensen, my fingers trailing along the edge of the walls and furniture. I’ve tried reading one of his books again, something to quiet the noise in my mind, but the words keep blurring together. My thoughts are too loud, too restless. I consider calling Freya, but what would I even say to her? There’s nothing new to share, nothing she doesn’t already know about. With a sigh, I find myself drawn to Jensen’s home office. The space smells like cedar and old paper, a now familiar, welcoming smell. I slip into his chair behind the desk. The leather feels cool beneath my fingers. My eyes wander and I spot some blank paper and pencils nearby. Without much thought, I pick one up and begin to sketch. At first, it’s just random lines, soft, swirling shapes, but soon it becomes more intentional. I let the pencil move on its own, trying to capture this tight feeling in my chest, the sense of being watched and qu
Rosalee's Point of ViewI wander aimlessly through the house after having lunch with Jensen, my fingers trailing along the edge of the walls and furniture. I’ve tried reading one of his books again, something to quiet the noise in my mind, but the words keep blurring together. My thoughts are too loud, too restless. I consider calling Freya, but what would I even say to her? There’s nothing new to share, nothing she doesn’t already know about.With a sigh, I find myself drawn to Jensen’s home office. The space smells like cedar and old paper, a now familiar, welcoming smell. I slip into his chair behind the desk. The leather feels cool beneath my fingers. My eyes wander and I spot some blank paper and pencils nearby. Without much thought, I pick one up and begin to sketch.At first, it’s just random lines, soft, swirling shapes, but soon it becomes more intentional. I let the pencil move on its own, trying to capture this tight feeling in my chest, the sense of being watched and quest
Jensen's Point of View The door clicks shut behind the last person I had to question, and I let out a long, frustrated sigh as I lean back in my chair. That was everyone. Every Alpha, every Beta, every representative from the alliance meeting. And none of them, none, gave even a hint that they could be the mole. Either I’ve spoken to the world’s most talented liar, or… it’s someone else entirely. Someone I’ve overlooked. Someone hiding in the shadows. The thought gnaws at me, and I sit up straighter, reaching out through the Alpha’s mind link. "Marcel, can you please meet me in my office?" "Sure. I just entered your pack lands again. I’ll be there soon." I cut the link and sit in the silence, my turning over every interaction, every detail. Nothing adds up. A few minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I call. Marcel steps inside with a slight smile, but it fades quickly as his eyes lock onto mine. His brows knit with concern. “Is everything okay?”
Jensen's Point of ViewAlpha Lillian sits across from me, calm and composed, the last of the Alphas I need to speak to in my investigation. Her posture is confident, but not defensive. She answers each of my questions clearly, directly, and more importantly, without hesitation. Everything about her tells me she has nothing to hide. Just like all the others.It’s frustrating.None of the Alphas seem to be the leak. I can’t ignore the fact that someone is feeding information to our enemies, but the trail keeps running cold.I shift the conversation. “Alpha Lillian, I was hoping you might spare one of your wolves to help train Rosalee, in her wolf form. We’ve been working on her human combat, but I want her to be able to defend herself fully. She’s a strong wolf, but she needs real practice with someone experienced.”Lillian taps her fingers lightly against the armrest of the chair, thoughtful. Then she gives a small nod of her head. “Of course. I’ll take a look at my warriors and see wh
Rosalee's Point of View As I step off the porch, the morning sun peeks just over the tops of the trees, casting a soft golden glow across the clearing. The cool air brushes against my skin, crisp and invigorating, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. It settles some of my nerves, though not all. I spot Josh walking towards me from the direction of the pack house, his posture relaxed, a slight smile already on his face. “Good morning,” I say with a smile of my own. “Good morning to you too,” he replies warmly, falling into step beside me without missing a beat. Our footsteps crunch lightly on the gravel path as we begin our walk towards the training center. The silence between us is comfortable, but my thoughts aren’t nearly as calm. I can already feel the tight knot of anxiety beginning to form in my chest. Training with Nyx has never exactly been easy, but after yesterday, after the way she kept looking at me, analyzing me, it’s worse. There’s something about her gaze t
Jensen's Point of View I gesture toward the chair across from my desk, and Bruce steps forward, his movements a little slower than usual, still clearly burdened by the weight of everything that’s happened. He takes his seat, his shoulders squared despite the exhaustion evident in his eyes. I lower myself into the chair behind my desk, the familiar leather creaking quietly as I settle in. “Let’s start by getting everything in order,” I say, folding my hands together on the desk between us. “For tonight, you can stay here. That way, you’ll be present for the alliance agreement signing tomorrow. Do you need additional accommodation until you can rebuild your pack?” Bruce shakes his head, his voice calm but firm. “No. It was mostly just the pack house that took the brunt of the damage. We still have other housing options, guest quarters and some of the family cabins are untouched. Until the main house is repaired, that will do. Besides…” he pauses for a second, his expression tighten
Nyx Point of View The halls of the Dark Moon pack house are quiet as I walk alongside Alpha Lillian. The sun has set the moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floors. She walks with the confident grace of someone who has seen her fair share of wars but carries them well. When we reach her room at the end of the guest wing, she turns to me. “Thank you,” she says simply, her voice calm and steady. I give her a respectful nod of my head and a polite smile. “Of course, Alpha.” She closes the door gently behind her, and I turn, the heels of my boots clicking softly as I make my way down the corridor. The calm of the night is a sharp contrast to the chaos that erupted earlier in the day. The house feels heavier now, burdened by the weight of loss, suspicion, and unanswered questions. When I finally reach my office, I exhale and close the door behind me, relishing the stillness. The small desk lamp casts a pool of warm light across my
Rosalee's Point of View I can still feel the weight of Nyx’s gaze like a physical pressure on my back, even though I haven’t looked in her direction again. It takes everything in me to keep my expression neutral, my body relaxed, like I don’t feel her eyes dissecting every flicker of movement I make. Then Jensen’s voice cuts through the tension. “Nyx and Ronan will show you to your rooms where you can stay the night.” A few heads nod, others exchange glances, the kind that speak volumes in silence. Nyx finally breaks her stare and turns with Ronan to begin leading the others out. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. As the crowd starts filtering through the door, the room becomes quieter, emptier, but not less tense. Jensen turns his attention to a man lingering by the file cabinets. “Bruce, I will personally show you to your room later. For now, we need to talk.” Bruce gives a curt nod of his head, calm but alert, his posture still rigid from everything th
Rosalee's Point of View The house feels like it’s holding its breath. The late afternoon light filters through the curtains in long golden shafts, stretching across the floor and casting everything in warm, deceptive calm. But inside, my nerves are raw. I’ve paced the living room more times than I can count, the same worry gnawing at me like a steady drumbeat. Freya’s not answering. Jensen’s still not back. Something is wrong. I move to the kitchen, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge, the coolness barely cutting through the heat simmering beneath my skin. Just as I twist off the cap, the unmistakable sound of the front door creaks open. I freeze. Turning slowly, heart in my throat, I see him. Jensen. He steps through the doorway, still in the clothes he left in, his boots marked with dried mud, his shirt wrinkled and torn near the shoulder. His hair is a mess, swept back like he’s been running his fingers through it all day. But it’s not the state of him that