Rosalee's Point of View
I 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 up on it immediately. Wolves have an acute sense of smell, surely he would have noticed something off. Maybe the faint traces of kitchen spices and cleaning chemicals masked it. Or maybe he did notice but chose not to say anything.
The thought makes my stomach churn, and I shake my head, trying to dislodge the spiraling thoughts. Dwelling on this won’t help. I need to focus on calming down, on finding some sense of peace in the chaos of my mind.
I stand and walk to the bathroom, flipping on the light. The soft hum of the overhead fan fills the small space as I turn on the shower, letting the water heat up.
Stripping off my clothes, I catch another glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. My body is lean but strong, my curves soft yet defined. Two years of proper meals and hard work have erased the gaunt, hollow look I used to have. I look healthier now, more alive. But no matter how much my outer appearance has improved, it doesn’t change the scars I carry inside.
I step into the shower, the hot water cascading over me, soothing the tension in my muscles. I close my eyes, letting the steam envelop me, hoping it will quiet the storm in my mind.
But my thoughts keep racing.
Why did he have to call me mate? Why now? I had prayed to the Moon Goddess to spare me from this, to never hear that word. It’s a cruel twist of fate. If he knew the truth about me, what I am, he would reject me in a heartbeat. Or worse, he might see me as a threat or a monster like everyone else.
I lean my forehead against the cool tile wall, the water running down my back. My mind drifts to the pack that cast me out, to the first time I saw my reflection after my shift. The pitch-black fur, the elongated face, the fiery orange eyes. A monster.
That’s what I am.
I take a deep breath, the steam filling my lungs, and force myself to push the memories away. I can’t afford to fall apart. Not now.
Finishing my shower, I turn off the water and step out, wrapping a towel around myself. The warmth of the shower lingers on my skin, but the storm in my mind hasn’t eased.
As I dry off and dress for bed, I know one thing for certain, I need to stay away from him. Whatever connection we might have, whatever bond the Moon Goddess thinks ties us together, it can’t happen. It won’t happen.
I can’t let it.
I pull on a pair of loose shorts and an oversized t-shirt, my usual bedtime attire, and crawl into bed. The sheets are soft and cool against my skin, but they do little to calm the turmoil in my mind. I close my eyes, willing sleep to come and hoping against hope that when I wake up, this will all have been some horrible nightmare.
But sleep doesn’t come.
Instead, my mind churns, playing out one disastrous scenario after another. No matter how I try to twist it, I can’t imagine this ending well. The word mate echoes in my head, taunting me, as if the Moon Goddess herself is mocking me for ever thinking I could escape my past.
I groan softly, sitting up in bed and turning my gaze to the window. The storm outside rages on, rain lashing against the glass and wind howling through the trees. The lightning illuminates the night in brief, jagged flashes, and the thunder rumbles deep and menacing. It’s chaotic, wild, and untamed, much like the storm in my head.
My thoughts are a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty. Why did he have to stop here? Why now? Was it fate, or just some cruel coincidence?
As I sit there, lost in thought, a movement outside catches my eye. I blink, focusing on the shadowy figure making its way across the hotel parking lot.
It’s him.
My breath catches in my throat. Even from this distance, I recognize him, the man who called me mate. His tall, broad frame moves with a fluid grace, and his dark hair clings to his face, damp from the rain.
I watch, frozen, as he heads toward the edge of the forest. The rain soaks through his clothes, but he doesn’t seem to care. Just as he reaches the tree line, he pauses, looking around. My heart pounds in my chest as I shrink back from the window, afraid he might see me watching.
But he doesn’t.
When he’s satisfied that no one is around, he takes a step into the forest and begins to shift.
My hand flies to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
It’s not the familiar, fluid transformation of a werewolf. His shift is something else entirely more primal, more powerful. His body grows larger, his muscles bulging as his clothes shred and fall away. His face elongates, his jaw widening to accommodate sharp, deadly teeth. His fur is dark and thick, his claws gleaming even in the dim light.
He’s not a werewolf.
He’s a Lycan.
I almost fall off the bed in shock. My hands grip the windowsill as I stare, unable to tear my eyes away. This changes everything. A werewolf mate would have been bad enough, but a Lycan? That’s a death sentence waiting to happen.
My mind races as I watch him disappear into the forest, his powerful form blending seamlessly into the shadows. The storm outside feels like a reflection of the chaos within me, both raging with a ferocity that refuses to be ignored.
What am I going to do?
I stay glued to the window, my breath fogging the glass as I stare into the stormy night. My eyes dart to the edge of the forest, scanning for any sign of him. The rain pelts down in relentless sheets, but he’s gone now, swallowed by the trees.
My pulse is still racing, my mind scrambling for a plan. I need to stay as far away from him as possible. If he’s a Lycan, my mate, no less there’s no telling what he might do if he discovers what I am.
I grab my coat from the back of the chair and throw it on over my t-shirt and shorts. My hands tremble as I zip it up. I slip into my shoes, not bothering to tie the laces, and quietly open my door. The hallway is dim and silent, the faint hum of the storm the only sound.
I make my way downstairs, my footsteps soft against the carpeted stairs. As I reach the lobby, the bright overhead lights feel almost jarring after the darkness of my room.
Sarah the receptionist on shift is still at the desk, her head bent over her phone. Her perfectly styled hair and flawless makeup make me feel even more out of place in my rumpled clothes and bare face. She doesn’t notice me until I clear my throat.
Her head snaps up, and she gives me a polite smile. “Oh, Rosalee. What can I do for you?”
I force myself to return her smile, even though my nerves are frayed. “Hi. I, um, just wanted to ask about the guests who arrived tonight. Do you know how long they’ll be staying?”
Her expression shifts slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, you mean the two men and one woman who came in during the storm?”
I nod my head, trying to keep my voice casual. “Yeah. I just… wanted to know if I should expect any extra cleaning or special requests while they’re here.”
She shrugs, tapping at her keyboard. “Well, they didn’t say exactly how long, but they booked the rooms for at least three nights. Could be longer, though.”
My stomach twists. Three nights. Maybe more.
“Do you know which rooms they’re in?” I ask, keeping my tone light. “Just so I can plan ahead.”
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t seem suspicious. “They’re on the third floor. Rooms 302, 303, and 304. Two of them are next to each other, and the third is across the hall.”
I nod my head, my heart sinking. The third floor. Close enough to make avoiding them tricky but not impossible.
“Thanks,” I say, forcing another smile.
She leans forward slightly, her curiosity clearly getting the better of her. “Why do you ask? Did something happen?”
I shake my head quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just like to be prepared, you know?”
She seems to accept my answer, leaning back in her chair. “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”
I nod my head again and turn away, heading back toward the stairs. My mind races as I climb back to my room. I’ll have to be careful, very careful. With them staying so close, I can’t afford to let my guard down for even a second.
This is going to be a long three days.
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 ViewThe soft morning light filters through the curtains as I smooth the last corner of the bed, making sure it’s neat and perfect. The room smells faintly of fresh linens and the lavender cleaning spray I always use. After what happened last night, focusing on the familiar task and the familiar scent helps keep my nerves in check and helps me to keep my mind from wandering to stranger and the implications of what he said. I'm still focusing on my task, bending down and making sure the bed linen is absolutely perfect, when there is a quick knock on the door and it opens. I glance up to see him, the stranger from last night, standing in the door.His intoxicating scent hits my nose, overwhelming the familiar scent of the room and my heart skips a beat, but I quickly plaster a polite smile on my face, hiding the storm of emotions brewing inside of me. Play dumb, I remind myself. That’s the plan. Maybe if I act like I don’t know what he’s talking about, he’ll get bored
Jensen's Point of ViewI stand motionless in the room, staring at the door Rosalee just disappeared through. My chest feels tight, and my Lycan is restless, growling in frustration at my lack of action. Every fiber of my being screams at me to chase after her, to demand answers, to make her face the undeniable truth of what we are to each other. But I force myself to stay rooted in place, clenching my fists at my sides as I wrestle against the primal urge."Why is she doing this?" The thought echoes in my mind like a relentless drumbeat. I’ve never heard of mates meeting and wanting nothing to do with each other. It’s unthinkable. The bond is too strong, too sacred. And yet, here I am, standing in the aftermath of rejection.Her words play over and over in my head, and I can’t shake the haunted look in her eyes. Whatever she’s hiding, it’s something she believes is so terrible that pretending not to understand what I’m talking about is her only option. But what could it be? What could
Rosalee's Point of ViewThe dining hall buzzes with the quiet hum of conversation, the clatter of silverware against plates, and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby table. I sit at one of the smaller tables near the window, half hidden from the guests, the sunlight streaming through casting a warm glow on the wooden surface.Across from me, Dameon chats animatedly about something, probably a story from his morning shift, but his words barely register. My mind is elsewhere, tangled in the events of the morning.No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the memory of Jensen standing there in that room, his piercing gaze locked on mine, his voice so calm yet insistent. His words echo in my mind, “I know you heard me last night, and I know you feel the sparks.” He wasn’t wrong, but that doesn’t make this any easier.I push a piece of bread around my plate absentmindedly, my appetite long gone. My chest feels heavy with the weight of my thoughts. "Maybe I should just tell him outr
Jensen's Point of ViewI make my way through the quiet hallways of the hotel, my steps purposeful as I head toward Rosalee’s room. I need to talk to her again, to try and make her see that I’m not here to hurt her. As I round the corner leading to her door, I stop in my tracks.There she is, slipping out of her room.Her movements are cautious, her eyes darting around as though she’s making sure no one sees her. Instinctively, I press myself against the wall, masking my scent and softening my steps. My years of training have taught me how to move like a shadow, and tonight, the light rain only adds to my advantage.I follow her at a distance, keeping to the edges of the hallway and then out into the night. She doesn’t notice me as she makes her way toward the forest, her coat pulled tight against the drizzle. Her movements are deliberate, each step carefully placed, as though she’s done this many times before.Once she reaches the edge of the forest, she pauses, looking around again t
Jensen's Point of ViewThe faint light of dawn seeps through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. I blink my eyes open, groggy and unrested. My body feels heavy, as if the weight of unanswered questions from the night before has settled into my bones. I had spent most of the night tossing and turning, my mind caught in an endless loop of possibilities, each more improbable than the last."What is Rosalee?" The question echoes in my head as I sit up, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I sigh deeply, frustration bubbling under the surface. Nothing is clearer this morning than it was last night.I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool wooden floor. The chill jolts me slightly, grounding me in the present. I stand and make my way to the bathroom, my movements sluggish and deliberate. The bathroom is small but functional, with a simple shower stall, a mirror above the sink, and a stack of neatly folded towels on a shelf.Turning on th
Rosalee's Point of View The faint glow of dawn fills the kitchen, slightly dispelling the dark of the night and the quiet hum of the early morning welcomes me as I step inside. The hotel is still asleep, the halls silent, except for the occasional creak of the old building settling. It’s peaceful, but my mind is anything but. I didn’t sleep much last night. I kept tossing and turning as my thoughts refused to quiet down. The run in the woods had helped, though, only briefly, because as soon as I returned to my room, Jensen’s presence, his words, his eyes, everything about him seeped back into my thoughts like an unshakable shadow. That’s why I’m here now, in the kitchen, st the break of dawn, long before anyone else has arrived. I needed something to do, something to occupy my hands and quiet my restless mind. I slip on an apron and tie it securely around my waist, taking comfort in the familiar routine. The kitchen is cool and still, the faint scent of flour and spices still ling
Rosalee's Point of View I freeze midstep, my breath catching in my throat as Jensen’s words cut through the air like a blade. "I saw you shift." Shock floods my system, leaving me feeling cold. My mind starts to race, telling me that I need get out but I am still frozen in place as my body refuses to move. He saw me. He knows what I am. All the effort I’ve put into hiding, all the walls I’ve built, have crumbled in an instant. Slowly, I turn to face him, my expression guarded even as my heart pounds in my chest. “And?” I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside of me. I brace myself for the inevitable, his rejection, the disgust, the word monster hurled at me like a weapon. But what happens next is something that I never dreamt of, even in my wildest dreams. “You can’t play dumb anymore, Rosalee,,” Jensen says, his tone firm but not cruel. His eyes lock onto mine, burning with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away. “I know you know what I am to you
Jensen's Point of View Two weeks later. I sit behind my desk, elbows resting on the smooth surface, hands steepled in front of me as I stare blankly at the stack of papers that haven’t moved in hours. The sun filters through the office windows, casting golden lines across the floor, but even that warmth doesn’t ease the tight knot in my chest. It’s been two weeks since the alliance agreement was signed. Two weeks of stillness. No information leaks. No attacks. No whispers in the wind. On the surface, everything appears calm... too calm. I know better than to trust this peace. It feels like the inhale before the scream. Like the pressure building in the earth before it splits open. The calm before the storm. And deep down, I know, when Crimsonclaw resurfaces, it won’t be like before. It’ll be worse. A full-scale reckoning. My instincts have never failed me before, and they’re screaming now. I close my eyes for a beat and open a mind link. "Nyx, Ronan, please come to my offi
Freya's Point of ViewThe moment I hear Rosalee say the word cameras, my stomach drops.Cameras.The entire attack was caught on tape.I don’t hear another word she says. My pulse spikes and my vision narrows with rage. Without thinking, I take my phone and hurl it across the room. It smashes against the wall with a violent crack, splintering to the ground in useless pieces. The sound it makes is deeply unsatisfying. I clench and unclech my fists, my jaw tight.“Great… just great, why didn't I think of that,” I mutter through gritted teeth, pacing the floor now, trying to rein in the storm building up in my chest.The door swings open, and Ravena steps inside. She looks around the room and her brows pull together as she takes in the shattered remains of my phone on the floor. “What’s wrong?”I turn towards her, barely containing the frustration vibrating through me. “Rosalee just called. Apparently, Shadow Vale had cameras... cameras Ravena, installed all over their pack grounds. The
Rosalee's Point of View As Josh and I step into the pack house, the hum of conversation and the comforting scent of home surrounds us. I glance over at him just in time to see his eyes glaze over briefly, the telltale sign of a mind link. When his eyes return to normal, he offers me a small smile. “Piper is in the dining hall,” he says. I smile back, grateful. “Thank you.” We make our way through the familiar halls until the wide double doors of the dining hall come into view. I’m about to thank Josh again when he cuts me off gently, clearly reading my intention. “I’m going to go shower,” he says with an easy shrug. “But if you need me, just ask anyone to mind link me.” I nod my head with a grateful look, and with that, we go our separate ways. As I step into the dining hall, my eyes immediately find Piper. She’s at a table near the far wall, the soft afternoon light pooling around her like a warm halo. She looks relaxed, her hands resting on her belly as she gazes down
Rosalee's Point of ViewAs Josh and I walk back to the house after training ended, the silence between us is heavy but not uncomfortable. Still, I can feel a tight knot in my stomach, growing with every step we take. I know what I have to do, and the thought of it makes my fingers twitch and my heart race.As we near the front door, I turn to him and say, “I just want to grab a quick shower and then I want to go and find Piper.”Josh nods his head easily, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be waiting. Take your time.”“Thank you.” I give him a small, distracted smile before slipping into the house.The moment the door closes behind me, I don’t head for the shower like I said. I go straight to my room. I can’t put this off anymore. If I wait, if I let doubt creep in, I might never go through with it. And I need to go through with it.I grab my phone off the nightstand, my hands already trembling as I dial Freya’s number. My feet carry me in slow, restless circles around the room, pacing
Rosalee's Point of View Jensen and I are still sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, the warmth from breakfast lingering between us like a quiet comfort. Our plates are mostly cleared, just a few crumbs of pancake and the faint scent of coffee hanging in the air. The morning light filters in soft and golden, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t feel the weight of secrets pressing on my chest. At first, when he started asking about Crimsonclaw, the leak, and Shadow Vale, I felt that old familiar knot of fear tightening in my stomach, afraid that maybe he suspected me. But as we talked, that fear started to dissolve. He wasn’t accusing, he was reaching out, needing someone to talk to. And the fact that he chose me… it means more than I can put into words. Now, I feel like it’s time to give something back. Trust for trust. I’ll call Freya later today and tell her I’m done. No more spying. I’ve found something here that I don’t want to lose, a place
Jensen's Point of View I stir awake, a soft breath leaving my lungs as I blink against the morning light filtering through the window. For the first time in what feels like days, I feel... grounded. Not entirely at ease, but focused. Yesterday, the alliance agreement was signed. The plan to root out the mole is in motion. And today... today, I’ll cross one more name off the list. I’ll talk to Rosalee. With that goal settling like a quiet resolve in my chest, I throw back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The floor is cool beneath my feet as I rise and stretch, working out the stiffness in my shoulders. My steps are purposeful as I walk to the closet and grab something simple to wear, dark jeans and a fitted charcoal t-shirt. Comfortable, clean, unassuming. Today’s not about appearances. Once dressed, I take a moment to run my fingers through my hair, smoothing it back before I open my bedroom door and head down the hall. The house is quiet, the kind of silence
Jensen's Point of View The fresh night air feels grounding as Rosalee and I walk side by side, leaving the hall and all the tension behind us. The stars are out, scattered across the sky, and the cool breeze is a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the signing. I feel lighter now that it's over, one major task off my shoulders, but there's a heaviness that settles just beneath the surface, pressing into me with every quiet step. Rosalee walks beside me, her arms relaxed at her sides, her face soft in the moonlight. She seems... happy. At ease. There’s no trace of the weight I carry visible in her expression, and for a moment, I envy that kind of calm. I want to believe this peace is real. That she’s exactly who she seems to be, gentle, curious, and trying to find her place here. But my thoughts twist back to Nyx’s words, and Ronan’s warning. Nyx doesn’t throw out suspicions lightly. Her instincts are sharp, honed over years of dealing with situations others would miss entirely.
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?”