Reagan's POVThe soft light of the sun spilled gently into the room, bathing everything in a warm golden glow. My eyelids fluttered as I stirred, the ache in my muscles a dull reminder of something I couldn’t yet recall. Slowly, I opened my eyes, the hazy outlines of the room coming into focus.“Ugh…” I groaned, my voice hoarse, my throat dry as sandpaper.“Don’t move too much,” a calm, familiar voice said, laced with concern.I turned my head slightly, wincing as the motion sent a sharp pang through my body. Grandmother Lana stood beside me, her soft gray hair framing a face lined with wisdom and worry. She reached out, her touch steadying me as my body shifted.“Grandmother Lana?” I rasped, blinking hard to focus on her face.“You’re awake,” she said with a small, relieved smile. “But don’t strain yourself just yet.”I tried to sit up, but a sudden weight held me back. My gaze dropped, and my heart sank when I saw the thick, silver chains binding my wrists and ankles. The cold metal
Guinevere’s POVYou know that feeling when you say something so unbelievably stupid, you wish you could rewind time and erase the words before they even left your mouth? That was how I felt right now. No—that was only a fraction of it.My chest tightened as the air between us grew heavy with disbelief, pain, and something far worse: betrayal.Reagan’s expression twisted, his brows furrowed, and his lips parted slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. His green eyes—usually so sharp and filled with fire—now stared at me with a mix of confusion and devastation."What did you just say?" His voice cracked, low and unsteady, as he took a step back."Reagan..." I started, my voice trembling, but the words stuck in my throat like barbed wire."You didn’t do it, right?" he asked, his tone rising, demanding answers. His eyes searched mine desperately, but I couldn’t meet his gaze.I remained quiet, guilt clawing at me like a beast inside. The silence only stretched, suffocating
Reagan’s POVI stepped into the town hall, my boots clicking against the polished wooden floor as the oppressive silence greeted me. The elders sat in a semi-circle, their expressions varying from stern to outright disdain. It was clear they weren’t thrilled by my presence."You’re late," one of the elders snapped, his tone sharp and accusing.I gave a small, apologetic smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Apologies, but as you’re all aware, I have a pack to lead. Unlike some, I don’t have the luxury of free time."One of the younger elders, his face turning red with fury, looked ready to explode. But before he could, Elder Nicholas, the eldest of them all, placed a calming hand on his shoulder. His silver hair gleamed in the dim light, and his piercing eyes fixed on me, unamused but measured.I smirked, enjoying the tension, and strode to the chair in the center of the room. The scraping sound of the chair as I pulled it back echoed like a challenge. I sat down leisurely, crossing my le
Guinevere’s POVOtis glanced at Reagan, then back at me, before clearing his throat. "I’ll leave you two to it," he said, stepping past her and out the door.The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room unnervingly silent."How did it go with the elders?" I asked, my voice steady, though my stomach churned with worry. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway, watching him as he sat at his desk, his jaw tight and his hands clasped in front of him."Good, I think," Reagan said, his tone clipped, avoiding my gaze."Did you tell them about the meeting?"He stilled, the air growing heavy before he replied, "No."The single word hit me like a punch to the gut. My brows furrowed as I straightened. "What?! W...why?"He finally looked at me, his eyes dark and unyielding. "Because I don’t feel comfortable discussing confidential matters with them. What happened at that meeting stays between my pack and me."I stepped closer, my voice rising in frustration. "But if you don’t tell t
Guinevere’s POVMy heart raced so loudly that it drowned out every other sound around me. I felt like a nervous teenager confessing my feelings for the first time.Reagan's piercing blue eyes held mine, deep and unwavering, as if he could see into my soul. His hands, warm and strong, cupped my face with such tenderness that it made my knees weak."Andréa," he whispered, my name rolling off his lips like a prayer.We were so close that I could feel his breath against my skin, warm and intoxicating. My pulse quickened, each beat urging him to close the distance between us.He leaned in, his lips brushing mine with a featherlight touch before capturing them fully. His kiss was gentle at first, a soft press that made my stomach flutter. A groan slipped from my lips—one I couldn’t hold back even if I tried. I had waited so long for this moment, for the feel of his lips on mine.“I’ve waited for you to say this,” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and rough with emotion.I couldn’t
Guienevere's POVThis is insane, I thought as I paced the length of my room, the anxiety clawing at my chest like an unrelenting beast. How could everything be so calm? How could Reagan act as if his life wasn’t hanging by a thread? His nonchalance wasn’t just infuriating; it was maddening. Something wasn’t right. I felt it deep in my bones, an unshakable sense of dread that wouldn’t let me rest. If Reagan wasn’t going to take this seriously, then I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands. Without a second thought, I grabbed my coat and made my way to the Crescent Howl Pack. The journey felt both agonizingly long and painfully brief as my mind raced with all the possibilities. By the time I arrived, the sight of the familiar estate brought a wave of mixed emotions—relief, fear, and a touch of nostalgia. As I stepped into the pack house, my sister Gail ran up to me, wrapping me in a tight, almost suffocating hug. “Woah,” I said with a laugh, “didn’t know I was misse
Guinevere's POVThe endless pacing had left me drained, my mind a whirlwind of frustration and determination. The sleepless night did nothing to dull the fire burning within me—I had to meet the caller. With Reagan missing and only four days until vindication with the council, I had no other choice. The burden fell on my shoulders. I was the daughter of the Crescent Moon Pack, and I could handle anything thrown my way.As I entered the abandoned warehouse, the air was thick with dust and dampness. The broken windows allowed slivers of moonlight to cast eerie shadows across the space. I scanned the room, my senses on high alert.Psychopaths and their love for abandoned warehouses, I thought bitterly.A voice emerged from the shadows, smooth but tinged with mockery. "You made it.""Of course." My voice was steady, though my fists clenched. "You didn’t think I’d chicken out, did you?""Never," he replied with a chuckle. "I’ve always admired your courage, Gwen."My eyes narrowed. "Yeah? S
Rya’s POV I paced back and forth, my boots scuffing against the wooden floor. The ticking of the clock grew louder with each passing second, its rhythm drumming against my skull like a countdown. Frustration bubbled up in my chest, and I ran a hand through my hair. "Dammit,” I hissed under my breath. Flashback “Wait, hold up,” I said, raising my hands to stop her. “What did you just say?!” I demanded, my voice sharp with disbelief. She let out a long sigh, her hands gripping the edge of the table in front of her. “I got a call,” she began, her eyes flickering away from mine. He said he knows who killed the werewolves. He’s willing to help us prove Reagan’s Innocence.” My mouth fell open. For a moment, I could only blink at her, the words struggling to register. “That's obviously a trap,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I know, but he sent a picture of the dead bodies. That means he could be the killer.” Her words sent a chill down my spine. I leaned closer, lowering
Guinevere's POVIt's crazy how the one person you once despised can become the very one your heart beats for. His scent, once irritating, now intoxicated me, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. The need to be near him, to feel him, became all-consuming—a fire burning in my chest that only he could extinguish. He wasn’t just a part of my life anymore; he had become my entire world. And with that realization came an unshakable vow—to protect him, no matter the cost.That’s how I felt about Reagan.Our lips collided in a deep, urgent kiss, a raw passion igniting between us as if we hadn’t spent the entire night tangled in each other. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, stoked the flames of desire that refused to be sated.It was more than just a kiss—it was a hunger, primal and consuming, one that only he could satisfy.Reagan’s hands moved to my hips, his grip firm but gentle as he lifted me with ease. A gasp left me as he guided me onto his lap, my legs straddling h
Guinevere's POVMy eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. The bed beside me was empty—no warmth, no Reagan. My fingers brushed the cold sheets where he should have been. For a moment, I wondered where he’d gone, but a smile tugged at my lips as last night flooded back into my mind.Memories danced like shadows in my thoughts: the feel of his lips tracing over mine, the way his touch ignited every part of me. I ran my fingers absently along my neck, feeling the faint soreness where his lips had left their mark. Unlike the first time, when he was rough and almost distant—likely because of the hex—last night was different. Even in his moments of intensity, he was careful. His eyes searched mine each time he thought he was going too far, his voice soft as he asked if I was okay.A faint blush crept across my cheeks, and I bit my lower lip, letting out a quiet laugh. That was the best I’ve ever had.Pushing myself up slowly, I winced as my muscles p
Reagan's POVThe scent of her lingered in the room, warm and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a haze. Slowly, I turned, my gaze falling on her—the beautiful Andrea. The woman I had always loved. My Luna.The soft morning light spilled across her face, highlighting every delicate feature. She looked so peaceful, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Her dark lashes fanned against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she slept. Her legs were tangled with mine, our nakedbodies pressed together under the rumpled sheets. I couldn’t help but stare. She was breathtaking, the kind of beauty that made my chest tighten every time I looked at her. Her lips caught my attention next. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. Memories from last night came rushing back—the way her lips had felt against mine, warm and eager. The way she’d said my name, her voice full of need. The way she’d looked at me, her head tilted back in pure pleasure.A warmth started to build inside me
Guinevere's POV“I want to feel you in me… all of you.”A sharp inhale escaped him as his eyes darkened with passion. He pulled back just enough to study my face, searching for any hesitation, any sign that I didn’t mean what I said. But there was none."Are you sure?" Reagan’s voice was low, almost hesitant, his piercing blue eyes searching mine with a softness that seemed so at odds with his usual strength. "Because of the hex, I might be rough..." He broke eye contact, guilt flickering in his expression as he looked away.I reached out, my fingers brushing gently against his cheek, urging him to meet my gaze again. His skin was warm under my touch, and when his eyes locked with mine, I saw vulnerability in their depths."I trust you," I said softly, my voice steady. "You’d never hurt me, Reagan."His jaw tensed slightly, the weight of my words sinking in. Before he could respond, I leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. This time, it was slower, unhurried—an intimate promise. I p
Gwen's POVThere was something magical about kissing the right person. It wasn’t just about the way his lips moved against mine—it was the intensity, the way he kissed me like I was the center of his universe. Each movement was purposeful, igniting something deep within me, consuming me completely.His hands roamed my body, exploring, caressing, igniting sparks wherever he touched. My mind felt hazy, spinning with the pleasure of his touch, his lips. My body reacted instinctively, arching closer, grinding against him, craving more.“I want you so badly,” I groaned against his lips, my voice trembling with need.I felt him smile, the curve of his lips against mine. His kiss deepened, his hands tightening on my waist, pulling me flush against him. “You drive me crazy when you say that,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his darkened eyes holding mine. “Say it again,” he whispered, his tone laced with longing.If I had been thinking cle
Reagan's POVThe clang of the iron hitting the floor echoed through the room, louder than it should have been. My hands trembled uncontrollably, my chest rising and falling in short, sharp breaths. My wide eyes were glued to the horror before me, unable to look away. The truth of what I had done hit me like a wave, drowning me in guilt.The bodies of werewolves lay scattered around, lifeless and torn apart. Blood was everywhere—on the walls, on the floor, on my hands. My stomach churned. In the middle of it all was the masked man. He lay slumped against the wall, iron rods sticking out of his chest and sides. His breathing was shallow, uneven.I couldn’t move. My legs felt like they were made of stone, and my heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear anything else. The hex had left me, its darkness fading, but the damage it caused was still here. The damage I caused.“Thank you,” Andrea’s soft voice broke through the chaos.Her arms wrapped around me from behind, her warmth trying t
Reagan's POVReagan's POVAs the adrenaline coursed through me, I shifted back to my human form, ignoring the stinging pain still radiating from my chest. The rage within me burned hotter than the wounds. If I was going to end him, I wanted to do it with my own hands.I stepped toward him slowly, each step deliberate, my expression hard and unyielding. My fists were clenched at my sides, and my breaths came in sharp, controlled bursts. The faint glow of the hex mark on my chest pulsed with my fury, catching his attention.His eyes widened in terror when he saw the mark of the hex. Beads of sweat rolled down his temple as he stumbled back, pressing himself against the wall like a cornered animal.“D-don’t come any closer!” he stammered, his voice cracking as his hands trembled.I didn’t stop. I crouched down and grabbed his hood, yanking it off with force. His mask clattered to the ground, revealing his pale, bloodied face.“P-please,” he whimpered, his voice shaking. “Don’t kill me! I
Reagan's POVAs I ran through the woods, her scent grew stronger, filling my nose with a mix of lavender and rain. It pulled me forward like a string tied to my chest. My heart pounded harder with each step, anger and worry fighting for control.I was furious—furious at Rya for keeping secrets, furious at Andrea for putting herself in danger, but mostly furious at myself. This mess was my fault, and now I had to fix it.The warehouse stood ahead, dark and silent under the moonlight. It looked abandoned, but I could feel the tension in the air. Without thinking, I kicked the door open. The crash of wood and metal echoed through the empty space as the door flew off its hinges.“Where is she?!” I roared, my voice shaking the walls.A man stepped out from the shadows, dressed in black with a mask covering his face. His movements were slow, like he wasn’t afraid of me.“We’ve been expecting you, Alpha,” he said, his voice calm and mocking.My fists clenched, my claws itching to tear into h
Rya’s POV I paced back and forth, my boots scuffing against the wooden floor. The ticking of the clock grew louder with each passing second, its rhythm drumming against my skull like a countdown. Frustration bubbled up in my chest, and I ran a hand through my hair. "Dammit,” I hissed under my breath. Flashback “Wait, hold up,” I said, raising my hands to stop her. “What did you just say?!” I demanded, my voice sharp with disbelief. She let out a long sigh, her hands gripping the edge of the table in front of her. “I got a call,” she began, her eyes flickering away from mine. He said he knows who killed the werewolves. He’s willing to help us prove Reagan’s Innocence.” My mouth fell open. For a moment, I could only blink at her, the words struggling to register. “That's obviously a trap,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I know, but he sent a picture of the dead bodies. That means he could be the killer.” Her words sent a chill down my spine. I leaned closer, lowering