Lyra POV
The days following our wedding were a dream I never wanted to wake from, each moment with Jaxon a brushstroke in a masterpiece of love and joy. The village seemed to glow with the same happiness that radiated from my heart, its lanes alive with the pack’s chatter, the air scented with autumn leaves and Clara’s fresh-baked bread.
As Jaxon’s wife, his Luna, I felt woven into the fabric of this place, my role as the pack’s heart growing clearer with every smile, every nod of respect from those who’d become my family. The weight of my silver ring, its vine pattern catching the sunlight, was a constant reminder of our vows, and I was determined to savor this time, this blissful interlude, before the world’s challenges—Darius, my lost essence, or the pack’s expansion—could intrude.
