The convoy rumbled through the winding mountain roads, the sleek Ferraris and armored SUVs cutting a path toward the Crescent Moon Pack’s territory. Jackson gripped the steering wheel of his 12Cilindri, the engine’s purr a steady counterpoint to the turmoil in his chest. Lucas rode shotgun, his usual banter subdued as the reality of the summer separation sank in. Behind them, a dozen non-mated warriors followed, their vehicles loaded with diplomatic gifts—fine pelts, enchanted silver weapons, and rare herbs symbolizing alliance. The grand ball was more than a mate-finding ritual; it was a strategic summit, a chance to fortify bonds amid whispers of vampire resurgence. Jackson’s mind, however, wandered to Lilith, their mind link a faint hum in the distance, her last thought—Be safe, J—echoi
