The days after the border attack passed in a tense rhythm of watchfulness. Patrols doubled, schedules tightened, and every able-bodied warrior drilled at dawn and dusk. Yet, for the first time in weeks, the skies above Bloodstone were clear — sunlight glinting through budding leaves, a deceptive peace blanketing the pack lands.
Crystal stood on the veranda overlooking the training field, her hands resting lightly over the subtle curve of her stomach. Bree stirred within, not with unrest but with awareness — protective, alert. Beneath the surface calm, both woman and wolf knew the stillness wouldn’t last.
“Two months,” Dustin murmured, stepping behind her. His arms circled her waist, his presence grounding her as his scent — pine and storm — mingled with her own. “Just two more months and
