Rosalee's Point of View The moment I step into the bathroom, I turn the shower tap on, letting the water run until it’s scalding hot. Steam begins to rise, curling around the air like a thick mist. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but my gaze is immediately drawn to the mirror above the sink. I look tired. My eyes, usually bright, seem dull and clouded. There’s dried mud on my legs, faint scrapes along my arms. My hair is tangled, wild from the time spent wandering through the forest. I look exactly how I should, like someone who had barely escaped, who had run until she had no choice but to keep going. It was the perfect illusion. I keep staring at my reflection, as if searching for something, maybe reassurance, maybe doubt, until the mirror completely fogs over, blurring the girl staring back at me. With a small sigh, I pull the oversized T-shirt over my head and step into the shower. The moment the hot water cascades over me, my muscles loosen, the tension
Rosalee's Point of View I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I start the story I rehearsed with Freya. "After I shifted I was lost in thought as I made my way over to the diner. I walked inside, not realizing it was filled with werewolves. When I realized it, it was already to late so, I tried to play it cool, hoping they wouldn’t see me as a threat. I asked the waitress if I could use their phone. I wanted to call Dameon and ask if he could come get me, but someone else was using it, so I had to wait. I took a seat near the door, keeping my head down, just waiting for my turn to use the phone. And that’s when someone joined me at my booth." Jensen’s sharp eyes narrow. He’s hanging onto every word. "The woman that took you. Do you know who she was?" he interrupts. I shake my head, keeping my expression neutral. "No, I have no idea who she was." The first lie. I can feel my pulse quicken, but I force myself to stay calm. I continue. "As I was saying, this woman
Rosalee's Point of ViewAs I sit in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection, I can’t shake the heaviness pressing on my chest. My eighteenth birthday should feel monumental, but instead, it feels hollow. My life, nothing about it feels worth celebrating.The girl in the mirror doesn’t look like someone turning eighteen. Her eyes are tired, her shoulders slumped as if carrying invisible weights. I trace the edge of the vanity with my fingers, trying to ignore the faint noise of voices downstairs.A sharp knock at my door pulls me out of my thoughts. I don’t even have to guess who it is. Dameon.“Come in,” I mumble, but before the words fully leave my mouth, the door swings open.I glance at him through the mirror, frowning. “And what if I’d been indecent?”He grins, leaning casually against the doorframe, completely unbothered by my irritation. “Oh, come now. I knew you’d try to wiggle out of today, so I’m not giving you the chance.”I turn to face him fully, crossing my arms. “Do
Jensen's Point of ViewI sit in my office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. Stacks of paperwork litter the surface, most of it outdated reports and formalities I’ve been putting off for weeks. But one name keeps appearing in the documents, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts "Crimsonclaw Pack".With a frustrated sigh, I close the folder and lean back in my chair, dragging a hand over my face. The Crimsonclaw Pack has been a thorn in our side for months now, their actions growing bolder and more reckless with each passing week. This latest report only confirms what I’ve feared, they’re spiraling out of control.I open a mind link to my Beta, Ronan, and my Gamma, Nyx. “I need both of you in my office. Now.”Their responses come almost instantly, their tones sharp and alert. “On our way.”It takes only a few minutes before there’s a knock at my door. “Enter,” I call, sitting up straighter as the two step inside.Ronan, ever the stoic, moves with precis
Rosalee's Point of ViewAs I stare at the man standing in the hotel lobby, his presence seems to command the very air around him. He’s beautiful, dark hair framing a chiseled face, his piercing eyes locked onto mine. But it’s not his appearance that has me frozen in place.It’s the word he just uttered.“Mate.”No. No, I must have heard wrong. He couldn’t have said mate. My heart pounds erratically in my chest, and I feel the blood drain from my face. For two years, I had convinced myself that I would never hear that word, and I had prayed, even begged, the Moon Goddess to make it so.But now, standing here, I can’t deny the truth. The way his eyes burn with recognition, the magnetic pull I feel toward him, it’s undeniable. He is my mate.Suddenly, I’m not in the hotel lobby anymore. I’m back in the Silver Ridge Pack, two years ago, on the morning of my sixteenth birthday.I remember waking up that day with a strange mix of excitement and hope. I knew I wouldn’t be getting a party or
Jensen's Point of ViewI stand frozen, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch her retreat into herself, her expression a mixture of shock and horror. The word "mate" still lingers in the air between us, a truth I’ve waited my entire life to discover, yet her reaction is nothing like I imagined.Taking a cautious step forward, I reach out, my fingers brushing her shoulder. I hope the contact will ground her, draw her out of whatever storm is raging in her mind. The moment my hand touches her, warmth floods through me, the bond sparking to life as if it has been waiting for this exact moment.Her body stiffens under my touch, and I watch as her bright blue eyes snap back to mine, the haunted look in them replaced by something else, shock, confusion, and maybe even a hint of fear."Are you okay?" I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper.She shakes her head, stepping back quickly, breaking the contact. The moment her shoulder leaves my hand, it’s as though all the warmth is sucked
Rosalee's Point of ViewI sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the small mirror across the room. The faint glow of the bedside lamp casts soft light over my features. My striking blue eyes meet my gaze, a color so vivid they almost seem unnatural. My dark hair falls in soft waves over my shoulders, framing a face that Dameon and his mother have often called beautiful.Beautiful.The word feels hollow to me. Beauty doesn’t matter, not when someone discovers the truth of what I am. A hybrid. A creature that doesn’t belong in either world. If he that man from earlier realizes what I truly am, all of this will be over. The life I’ve carefully built here, the fragile sense of safety I’ve managed to hold onto, it will all come crashing down.I tilt my head slightly, studying my features. There’s no visible trace of the monster within me, no hint of the beast that lies beneath my skin. My reflection doesn’t betray the truth.But my scent might.I’m surprised he didn’t pick
Jensen's Point of ViewAs the first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, I stir awake, blinking against the soft morning light. Stretching, I feel a lingering calm from last night’s run. The rain had been relentless, but it had done wonders to clear my head. The storm outside had mirrored the storm within me, and running through it had been exactly what I needed.Sitting up, I rub my face, the memory of Rosalee’s horrified expression flashing through my mind. My mate. The one I’ve waited for my entire life. And yet, she seems to want nothing to do with me.I shake my head, willing myself to focus. I can’t let this distract me, not completely. There are still matters at hand that need my attention.Standing, I pull on a fresh shirt and jeans, then lace up my boots. As I button my cuffs, I open a mind link to Nyx and Ronan.“Meet me in the dining hall for breakfast. We need to talk about next steps.”Their replies come quickly, Nyx’s sharp and efficient, Ronan’s gruff but agree
Rosalee's Point of View I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I start the story I rehearsed with Freya. "After I shifted I was lost in thought as I made my way over to the diner. I walked inside, not realizing it was filled with werewolves. When I realized it, it was already to late so, I tried to play it cool, hoping they wouldn’t see me as a threat. I asked the waitress if I could use their phone. I wanted to call Dameon and ask if he could come get me, but someone else was using it, so I had to wait. I took a seat near the door, keeping my head down, just waiting for my turn to use the phone. And that’s when someone joined me at my booth." Jensen’s sharp eyes narrow. He’s hanging onto every word. "The woman that took you. Do you know who she was?" he interrupts. I shake my head, keeping my expression neutral. "No, I have no idea who she was." The first lie. I can feel my pulse quicken, but I force myself to stay calm. I continue. "As I was saying, this woman
Rosalee's Point of View The moment I step into the bathroom, I turn the shower tap on, letting the water run until it’s scalding hot. Steam begins to rise, curling around the air like a thick mist. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but my gaze is immediately drawn to the mirror above the sink. I look tired. My eyes, usually bright, seem dull and clouded. There’s dried mud on my legs, faint scrapes along my arms. My hair is tangled, wild from the time spent wandering through the forest. I look exactly how I should, like someone who had barely escaped, who had run until she had no choice but to keep going. It was the perfect illusion. I keep staring at my reflection, as if searching for something, maybe reassurance, maybe doubt, until the mirror completely fogs over, blurring the girl staring back at me. With a small sigh, I pull the oversized T-shirt over my head and step into the shower. The moment the hot water cascades over me, my muscles loosen, the tension
Jensen's Point of View As Ronan and I step out of the pack house, the early afternoon sun beats down on us, a stark contrast to the dim, artificial glow of the IT room we had been buried in for hours. I blink against the sudden brightness and raise my hand to shield my eyes against the sharp light, realizing just how long we had spent chasing dead end after dead end in the dark.The warmth of the sun does little to ease the tightness in my chest. We don’t waste any time as we walk straight to the truck. Ronan slides into the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life as I climb into the passenger side. The moment my door shuts, I pull out my phone and redial the last number that had called me, the waitress. My fingers feel stiff with tension, my breath shallow as I press the phone to my ear. One ring. Two rings. Then I hear her voice. "Hello?" she answers, uncertainty clear in her tone. "Hello, this is Jensen. I would like to talk to my friend, please." A brief pause. Then, he
Jensen's Point of View The small backroom of the gas station is dimly lit, the scent of stale coffee lingering in the air. The man behind the desk moves quickly, skipping through the security footage until the timestamp reads 6:00 PM. The screen flickers slightly as the footage fastforwards. We all stand completely still, eyes locked on the monitor, our breath barely audible over the faint hum of the old computer. The road on the screen remains mostly empty, just a few scattered vehicles passing by. My fingers curl into fists at my sides, impatience gnawing at me. And then... A dark blue car emerges from the diner’s side of the street. “Stop,” I say sharply. The man freezes the frame, and I immediately step closer, my eyes narrowing at the screen. The timestamp reads 06:20 PM. My pulse quickens. This has to be them. The vehicle appears unremarkable at first glance, no obvious signs of who might be inside. The image quality isn’t great, making it hard to distinguish detai
Rosalee's Point of View As I begin to stir, the remnants of restless dreams fade into the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. I blink up at the ceiling, my mind already racing. Sleep had been a battle, my thoughts constantly churning, questioning if I had made the right decision. But now, in the clarity of the morning, I feel a sense of resolve settle deep within my bones. This is the right choice. I am sure of it. If I can stop this war, if I can finally create peace, then maybe, just maybe, I can return to my life in Thornhill without the constant weight of fear pressing down on me. With newfound determination, I push the covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My muscles protest slightly, sore from the exhaustion of the last few days, but I push through. Moving to the closet, I pull out some clothes, slipping into them quickly, ready to face the day and solidify my choice. As I step out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the rich, mouthwatering sce
Jensen's Point of View The crisp night air bites against my skin as Ronan, Caleb, Mira, and I step out of the diner. The warm lights from inside cast long shadows across the empty parking lot, contrasting with the cool, silver glow of the street lamps above. My heart pounds with urgency, each beat echoing the name I can’t stop thinking about, Rosalee. Mira takes the lead, her sharp gaze sweeping across the pavement as she follows the faint trail left behind. Ronan and Caleb flank her, noses slightly tilted upward as they take in the fading scent. I follow closely, tension knotting my muscles with every step. The only sounds are our footsteps crunching against the asphalt and the faint hum of distant traffic. They guide us toward the edge of the parking lot, right where I was standing when they first arrived. Mira crouches down, her fingers grazing over the surface of the ground. Her eyes narrow in concentration. A brief silence falls, heavy with anticipation. Caleb steps beside
Rosalee's Point of View "Well, you have had a pretty long day. I think it is time to head of to bed. We can talk some more in the morning. Let me show you to the bedroom." Freya says with a little smile as she stands up. I follow her lead, standing up before following her down the hall. She opens the door second to her right. "This is the bathroom, if you would maybe like to freshen up. There are some extra toothbrushes in the cabinet along with some toothpaste." She walks forward, opening another door. "And this is the bedroom you can use. There are some extra clothes in the closet. I will be right down the hall of you need anything." She says pointing to the last door at the end of hall. I nod my head at her, giving her a small smile. "Thank you." "It's my pleasure. Well, I think I am going to take a quick shower and then go to sleep. I am pretty wiped. Goodnight Rosalee." "Good night, Freya." She smiles at me, before disappearing into her room to grab her things. I open the do
Freya's Point of View Rosalee’s words echo in my mind. "That he is the Lycan king." Shock still lingers beneath my composed exterior, but beneath that surprise lies something far more potent. Growing excitement about the opportunity presenting itself to me in the form of my daughter. Fate has handed me something I never anticipated, a direct connection to the enemy. The Lycan King is mated to my own daughter, what are the chances? This could be the key to finally dismantling the Lycans from within. With Rosalee on the inside, feeding me vital information, victory could be closer than I ever imagined. I have to approach this opportunity very carefully. Rosalee doesn’t know the truth about me, about who I truly am. She thinks I’m just her long lost mother, someone searching for redemption and reconnection. If she finds out I’m the Alpha of the Crimsonclaw Pack, the very faction dedicated to eradicating the Lycans, she might turn against me. And I can’t risk that. Not now, when the s
Rosalee's Point of View The heavy silence between Freya and me stretches on, the weight of everything said and unsaid filling the small cabin. It's Freya who finally breaks it, her voice soft but hopeful. "You said that later there were people who cared for you. Would you mind telling me about those happier times?" For a moment, I hesitate, unsure of how much to share. But then, thinking of Dameon and Margaret, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips before I can stop it. "The day of my sixteenth birthday," I begin slowly, "I was kicked out of my pack. I didn’t know where to go, so I wandered until I found myself in Thornhill. That’s where I stumbled upon a hotel. I was cold, starving, and completely lost when Margaret, the head chef, found me. She took pity on me, gave me a warm meal, and somehow convinced her boss to give me a job cleaning rooms. She even arranged a small room for me in the staff quarters." The warmth of those memories floods me. I can almost smell the fr