POV: Olivia
The first thing I felt was cold.
The warmth pressed against my back all night was gone.
I reached out blindly—just sheets. Empty.
My eyes flew open. The pillow beside me was already cooling. The bond still hummed faintly in my blood, but the room smelled only of cedar and dust.
For a moment, panic clawed at my chest. He left.
The ache between my thighs reminded me of what had happened, skin still tingling where his hands had mapped me. Every part of me felt different. Changed. Alive in ways I hadn’t known were possible.
I buried my face in the pillow, breathing him in. Pine. Rain. Iron. His scent lingered faintly on the sheets, and I clung to it like a lifeline.
He was Alpha. Dawn meant duties, warriors to train, and elders to face. He couldn’t stay tangled with a servant all day—no matter how much I wanted him to.
Still, the hollow in the bed felt like a warning.
He’ll come back. Tonight. He promised.
I dressed slowly, my body tender in ways I didn’t want anyone to notice. I covered the marks he’d left with plain fabric, but nothing could hide the glow under my skin.
By the time I reached the servants’ hall, the whispers had already started.
“…saw him in the corridor…”
“…the Alpha, with her…”
“…a latent, of all things…”
Heat flooded my face. Trays clattered too loudly when I set them down. Eyes slid over me—sharp, amused, pitying.
Mae caught me by the stairs. “Liv?” Her gaze swept over me, too sharp to fool. “You look… different.”
“I’m fine.”
She lowered her voice. “What happened last night?”
My throat closed. “Nothing. Just work.”
Her brows drew tight. “Don’t lie to me.”
I looked away. The bond buzzed low in my veins, the memory of his mouth on my skin too raw to speak aloud.
Mae exhaled slowly. “Be careful, Olivia.”
I forced a smile. “He’ll come back. You’ll see. Tonight, he’ll claim me.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
But I clung to the hope anyway.
---
POV: Luther
Dawn was a blade I couldn’t dodge.
I hadn’t slept. Her scent still clung to me, wrecking me. My chest carried the faint tracks of her nails—proof of what we’d done, proof that she was mine.
Recce prowled restless inside, tail lashing. Go back. Hold her. Bite her. Seal it.
I splashed cold water over my face at the basin, trying to scrub her from my skin. It didn’t work. Nothing would.
Duty called.
The elders waited in the great hall, robes heavy, silver cups gleaming in the grey light. My father stood at the head of the table, pride cold in his eyes. My mother sat beside him—her usual seat in council, though she rarely spoke unless words truly mattered. Her dark hair was bound simply, her face calm as stone, but her eyes… her eyes followed me like they already knew.
One elder leaned forward, voice sharp. “We saw you last night.”
My chest tightened.
“In the corridor,” he continued, mouth curling. “With the kitchen girl. You kissed her. You left with her.”
Recce surged inside me, a growl rattling my skull. Ours. Let them see.
“She is no Luna,” another elder said. “A latent, without wolf or power. Do you mean to shame this pack before the allied houses? A Luna must be strong. A Luna must carry legacy.”
“A mate like that weakens us all,” a third finished, smooth as a blade.
“Reject her,” the first pressed, calm as a death sentence. “Do it quickly, before tongues wag. The servants already whisper. If you hesitate, word will spread, and this pack will be mocked.”
Recce snapped chains inside me, lunging. Reject them, not her. Bite. Claim.
I locked my hands on the table to keep them from shaking.
They were wrong. Every one of them. Olivia wasn’t weak. She was the strongest thing I’d ever touched.
But the pack didn’t see her fire. They only saw what she lacked.
My father’s voice cut through, cold and final.
“An Alpha’s first duty is to his pack. You will choose a Luna worthy of the title. Not a latent girl who can barely serve at a table.”
“Father,” I said, the word like gravel. “She’s my mate.”
“I know,” he said flatly. “I know the thrill of it—the spark, the pull, the bond. You tasted it last night. And now it’s time to snap out of it.” His gaze hardened, every syllable a blade. “Do you know why our pack is one of the strongest in the North? Not our coffers. Not our land. Our strength. Since the foundation of this pack, no Luna has been without a wolf. Not one. And I will not see that broken under my son’s reign.”
My jaw flexed. “You’re asking me to defy the Goddess.”
“I’m telling you to lead.” He raised a hand before I could argue. “The Goddess may weave bonds, but Alphas build kingdoms. There are she-wolves with bloodlines and power begging for your claim. Choose one. Move on. I will not have a latent for a daughter-in-law—let alone a Luna.”
Before I could answer, another voice cut through. Softer. Sharper.
“Marcus.”
My mother’s voice.
Every elder stilled. Even my father’s head turned a fraction toward her.
Her hands were folded in her lap, her eyes steady on him—not me. “The Goddess did choose. That girl carries her mark whether you approve or not. To call her unworthy is to call the bond itself unworthy. Are we Alpha, or are we children who think we know better than the Goddess who birthed us?”
A ripple of unease broke the room.
My father’s jaw tightened. “Elara—”
“No,” she said, still calm, still soft. “If he rejects her, that choice is his burden. But do not make it sound like virtue, Marcus. Do not dress it up as strength. It is fear, and fear has no place on this council.”
For a moment, my father’s face flickered—anger, warning, something darker. But he didn’t strike her words down. He couldn’t. She’d spoken truth, and the room knew it.
Her eyes found mine then. Steady. Burning in their quiet way. Do not let them shame you for loving her.
Recce shoved at the cage of my ribs, howling. Yes. Hers. Ours. Now.
But I looked at her—my mother, the only ally in a room full of wolves—and I saw the warning there too. If I claimed Olivia now, they would destroy her before nightfall.
The fire in me guttered into ash.
I shut my eyes for a heartbeat, steeling myself for the blade I’d have to drive into Olivia’s heart.
Tonight, she dreamed of being mine.
Tonight, I’d have to break her.