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
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
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 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
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
Guinevere’s POVMy heart pounded in my chest as I stood there, forcing my breathing to remain steady.I willed myself to stay calm, to mask every bit of hesitation threatening to seep through. A simple smile that’s all it took. Just one convincing smile.But Reagan… he knew me too well.What if he saw through it?What if he realized that what I was about to say was a lie?No.I couldn't let that happen.If Reagan discovered that I knew about the solution, he would be pissed and knowing Reagan he could lock me up just to ensure I don’t live and Rya I couldn’t imagine how hurt he would be with her... I couldn't allow that.I took a deep breath, steadying myself.I won’t let that happen.When this was all over, I didn’t mind begging for his forgiveness. I’d take whatever consequences came my way as long as Reagan was safe, I’d be okay.The door creaked open, and then he walked in.A soft smile graced his lips as his deep blue eyes locked onto mine, making my breath hitch.“Andrea.”His v
Rya's POVThe stupid knot in my chest just wouldn’t go away.I clenched my jaw, pacing the room in restless frustration.I didn’t do anything wrong.Right?Guinevere had every right to know. As much as Reagan loved her, she wasn’t some fragile child. She could make her own decisions. She deserved that much.And it’s not like she was going to die or anything…I exhaled sharply, raking a hand through my hair.“F*ck.”Why did things always have to be this way? Why did doing the right thing always feel so wrong?A sudden cough pulled me from my thoughts.I turned sharply, my heart lurching as I saw Otis sitting up in bed, his dark eyes bleary with confusion. His fingers pressed against his temple as if trying to steady his thoughts.Without hesitation, I grabbed the cup of water from the nightstand and handed it to him."Here, drink this."He took a slow sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. A moment passed before he exhaled and handed the cup back."Thanks."I nodded, keeping my
Guinevere's POVI shut the book with a sharp thud, the sound echoing through the empty library. A frustrated sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. The library had practically become my second home ever since the meeting with the elders. Books upon books surrounded me, pages filled with knowledge, yet none of them held the answers I so desperately sought.And thankfully, Reagan wasn’t here.He had gone to a meeting on the south side, giving me a moment of solitude no forced smiles, no pretending that I was fine. Because I wasn’t.How could I be when the hex was still a looming threat?I worried for him, more than he probably realized. And yet, every time I looked into his eyes, all I saw was that same reassuring smile, that same determination to act like everything was okay. But I knew better.Deep down, he had to be terrified.Terrified that one day, the hex would take control. That he would do something unforgivable.I clenched my jaw and grabbed another
Rya POVAgain, I hit the ground, hard. The impact rattled through my bones, but I clenched my jaw, swallowing the frustration burning inside me."Damn it," I hissed, pushing myself up. My legs trembled slightly, but I steadied them, lifting my gaze to the werewolf standing before me."Again," I ordered, my voice sharp.He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Rya, maybe we should—""Again!" I snapped, cutting him off.Reluctantly, he lunged at me. I blocked his strike, but he was faster this time—his foot connected with my legs, sweeping them from under me.I hit the ground with a thud, a sharp groan escaping my lips. My fingers dug into the dirt as the frustration clawed at my insides."Maybe we should take five," he suggested, his tone careful."No," I growled, pushing myself up once more. "Again.""Rya—""I said again!"I launched forward, tapping into my wolf speed. He barely had time to react before I struck, catching him off guard.But my mind wasn’t on the fight. My b
Guinevere's POVToday had been an overwhelming mess, a whirlwind of chaos that left my mind spinning. First, Reagan and the elders, then the horror of watching the killer bite off his own tongue, and now this—Reagan and Hayden, fists flying, pure rage crackling in the air like a violent storm."What's wrong with you two?" I shouted as I rushed toward them, shoving myself between their tense bodies. My hands pressed against their chests, trying to force them apart.Reagan’s breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitch. A thin cut on his lips oozed a slow trickle of blood, but he barely seemed to notice. His icy blue eyes burned with fury, locked onto Hayden.Hayden, on the other hand, stood rigid, his fists still curled at his sides, his chest rising and falling in rapid, angry breaths. His dark eyes flashed with something dangerous—resentment, frustration, maybe even something deeper."Why don’t you ask him?" Reagan spat, his voice thick with barely con
Reagan's POVFlashbackTick. Tock. Tick. Tock.The clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second dragging on forever.In just a few minutes, I would stand before the elders. This could go really well… or it could take a sharp turn south.I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling a slow breath, forcing myself to remain composed. The weight of the moment settled heavily on my chest, but I had long since mastered the art of masking my emotions.The door creaked open, and Andrea walked in.She didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at me, her eyes full of concern. No matter how hard I tried to hide my feelings, she always saw right through me.“You okay?” she asked softly.I forced a smile. “Of course. Can’t wait to see their faces when we show them the real killer.”She didn’t laugh.Instead, she closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around me in a firm embrace.I stiffened for half a second before my body instinctively relaxed. My arms encircled her waist, pu
Reagan's POVI stepped into the town hall, my boots echoing against the polished stone floor, each step measured, deliberate. The room was already filled, the Elders seated in their high-backed chairs, their expressions a mix of stern judgment and anticipation.If only they knew what awaited them.My eyes swept across the hall, noting familiar faces—some filled with worry, others with satisfaction, eager to witness my downfall.Andrea sat near the front, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her brows furrowed with concern. Our eyes met, and I offered her a small reassuring smile, though my chest tightened at the worry in her gaze.Then there was Hayden.His face remained unreadable, but the way his jaw twitched and his hands curled into fists at his sides told me everything. Hatred. Resentment. Rage.I smirked at him, watching with amusement as his eyes darkened, his posture going rigid.But my amusement faded as my gaze flickered to the empty chair in the farthest corner—a chair tha
Reagan's POVRya.She stood a few feet away, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something—but no words came out."Rya," I breathed.She quickly blinked back her tears, looking away as she hastily rubbed a hand over her face. "I’m sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t mean to eavesdrop."She turned on her heel, about to leave."Wait," I called out.She froze, her back still turned to me. Her fingers tightened into small fists at her sides, betraying the storm of emotions raging inside her.I took a slow step forward. "Can we talk… please?"She stood motionless for what felt like an eternity, her shoulders rising and falling with each measured breath.Finally, after a long pause, she turned to face me—her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears—and gave a small nod.The garden was quiet except for the steady chirping of crickets and the distant sound of wolves laughing and chattering inside the packhouse.
Reagan’s POVFlashback "Next time, lock the door," Grandmother Lana teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. I let out a chuckle, shaking my head. "Duly noted," I muttered, though my ears still burned from earlier. As I walked her toward the grand entrance of the **Shadow Fang Pack house, the cold night air nipped at my skin, sending a chill down my spine. The moon cast a pale glow over the stone pathway, illuminating the gentle yet wise features of the woman who had been a second mother to me. Lana turned to face me, her silver-streaked hair glinting softly under the moonlight. A warm smile tugged at her lips as she raised a wrinkled hand, cupping my cheek. Her touch was gentle yet firm, the way it had always been when I was a child seeking comfort. "You know I'll do anything for you," she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet strength. "You're Amelia’s boy." Something in my chest tightened. My mother’s boy. That’s what she always called me. I let my eyes flutter shut for j