Elowen's POV Every single one of them. Warriors, hardened by battles, bowed their heads in silent reverence, their hands fisted over their hearts in a gesture of absolute loyalty. The elders, their faces etched with ancient wisdom, even pressed their foreheads to the cold stone ground, murmuring blessings to the Moon Goddess as her name, full of respect and awe, rippled through the air from a thousand throats. The pack, as one, acknowledged their Luna and the precious life she carried. My chest tightened, a profound ache blooming in my throat with sudden, overwhelming emotion. Tears, hot and silent, welled in my eyes, threatening to spill. This was not just acceptance; it was worship, a deep, primal respect. Alaric’s hand tightened on mine, his fingers intertwining with mine, a subtle reassurance. “You’re shaking, Elowen,” he murmured, leaning just close enough for only me to hear, his voice a low, tender rumble against my ear. “Are you alright, Luna?” “I…” My voice wavered,
Elowen’s POV The next evening, as the sun began its majestic descent, the sky over the pack grounds burned with a riot of gold and crimson, painting the clouds in fiery streaks. It was a perfect, dramatic sunset, spilling its vibrant hues over the vast, expectant crowd that gathered below the great stone terrace of the Alpha’s mansion. I stood in the deep shadows of the elegant terrace, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, watching as more and more wolves—warriors with their stern, loyal faces, gentle healers, wise elders with their stoic gazes, even boisterous pups clinging to their parents’ legs—filed into the vast, open square. The air thrummed with their collective presence, a low murmur of curiosity floating up to us like smoke from a distant fire: "Why did they summon everyone so suddenly?" "Is it another challenge? Has an enemy dared to show their face?" "Where’s the Luna? Is she alright? We haven't seen her in days." I swallowed hard, a lump forming
Elowen’s POV The morning came softly, painting the world in hues of rose and pearl. Warmth was the first thing that registered, a deep, pervasive heat that had nothing to do with the fire — long dead now, its embers merely a faint, comforting glow in the hearth. This warmth stemmed from them, from the three powerful beings who had woven themselves inextricably into the very fabric of my existence. I was utterly cocooned in a glorious tangle of limbs, a symphony of heat, and the steady, reassuring rhythm of three strong heartbeats. Alaric’s heavy arm was draped possessively over my hips, anchoring me, his head buried in the crook of my neck, his breath warm and steady against my skin. Ranon lay behind me, his solid chest pressed flush against my back, providing an impenetrable shield, his hand resting with a tender reverence over the gentle swell of my belly even in sleep, as if guarding a precious treasure. And Theron… Theron was curled at my feet, his elegant body a warm, comforti
Elowen’s POV After the whirlwind of the morning—the initial shock, the overwhelming joy, the laughter, the endless kisses, the triplets practically falling over each other in their efforts to feed me more than I could possibly eat, their concern a palpable hum around me—the day settled into a quiet, almost luminous glow. It was a day marked by an internal, profound peace that permeated every corner of the house. Alaric, with his characteristic decisive efficiency, had sent a stern, unyielding message to the pack that we wouldn’t be taking visitors today, or for the foreseeable future, emphasizing our need for quiet solitude. Theron, with his usual dramatic flair, had made a show of locking the heavy front door, loudly proclaiming for anyone within earshot that “this house is officially a sanctuary for the Queen and her spawn, and any trespassers will be met with extreme prejudice!” His playful threat was underscored by a genuine, fierce protectiveness. And Ranon… Ranon never left m
Elowen’s POV I woke before any of them, a familiar sense of peace settling over me. The faint morning light, soft and hesitant, streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the opulent bedroom. Dust motes danced in the ethereal shafts of light, suspended in the still air. They were still tangled around me, a comforting, secure knot of powerful limbs and warm bodies. Ranon was draped protectively over my side, his golden eyes closed, long lashes fanned against his cheeks, his breath warm and rhythmic against the back of my neck. Alaric, ever vigilant even in sleep, sat against the ornately carved headboard, one arm wrapped firmly around my waist, holding me close. And Theron, like a magnificent, lazy wolf, was sprawled elegantly at the foot of the bed, his silver hair delightfully mussed, one hand resting possessively over my calf, as though afraid I might slip away even in my dreams. For a long, quiet moment, I just lay there, perfectly still, letting mysel
Elowen's POV I laughed then—really laughed, a full, uninhibited sound that filled the hallway and echoed through the quiet house, breaking whatever last vestiges of restraint they were holding onto. The joy was so overwhelming, it burst forth from me. They didn’t even give me the chance to make it past the living room, let alone upstairs. My feet barely touched the ground. Alaric, with a joyful grunt, swept me up into his arms before I could even protest, carrying me to the plush couch like I weighed absolutely nothing, settling me gently amidst the soft cushions. The next few moments passed in a blur of intoxicating heat and profound reverence. It wasn't a wild, demanding intimacy, but something deeper, more sacred. Ranon, ever the one for grand, devoted gestures, knelt in front of me, taking my feet in his hands. With painstaking care, as though I were a queen, he pulled off my damp shoes, his large, calloused hands lingering over my ankles, tracing the delicate bones. Then, w