I Never KNEW MY HUSBAND IS A WEREWOLF ALPHA

Chapter 7:The Sovereign Audit

Six months had passed since the night the North Ridge smelled of ozone and blood. In the high-altitude silence of the Pierce Tower, the glass was no longer a shield; it was a lens.

Sloane sat at the mahogany desk that had once belonged to Arthur, the CFO. She hadn’t just taken his office; she’d gutted it. Gone were the mahogany shelves filled with vanity awards. In their place were high-density servers and a wall of monitors that tracked the heartbeat of the city—both its stock prices and its scent markers.

She was no longer just the "wife." She was the Executive Luna.

She wore a suit of midnight-blue silk, her hair pulled back into a lethal, low ponytail. On her desk sat a single, matte-black laptop, its screen filled with a glowing, complex ledger that tracked the Lupine Guard’s retirement funds alongside the morning’s venture capital acquisitions.

"Discrepancy detected," she whispered, her finger tapping the trackpad. "Pattern recognized: an unauthorized 4:00 AM withdrawal from the 'Emergency Meat Supply' fund."

"It was the twins," a low, vibrating voice said from the doorway.

Sloane didn't look up. She didn't have to. The air in the room had already spiked by five degrees, the scent of cedar and wild rain flooding her senses.

Roman stepped into the light. He looked different than he had six months ago. The heavy, protective tension in his shoulders had been replaced by a quiet, lethal confidence. He didn't have to hide anymore. He didn't have to lie.

He walked behind her, his massive, heated hands resting on her shoulders. He leaned down, his nose grazing the pulse point at her neck. "They’re growing. They need the protein. I’ve already balanced the ledger, Sloane."

"You used the 'Miscellaneous Entertainment' budget to cover a ton of raw venison, Roman?" Sloane asked, finally turning her chair to face him. She raised an eyebrow. "That’s a tax audit waiting to happen."

"Let them audit us," Roman growled, a dark, playful smirk touching his lips. "I’ll show them the teeth. You show them the spreadsheets. We’re untouchable."

He pulled her up from the chair, his hands sliding down to her waist. They stood in the center of the office, the king and queen of a modern empire.

"The Board is waiting, Luna," Roman said, his eyes flashing a brief, molten amber. "They want to know why we’re shifting 20% of the firm’s liquidity into 'Forest Restoration' projects."

"Because the forest isn't just land anymore, Roman," Sloane said, adjusting his tie—a gesture that had become their silent code for I’ve got your back. "It’s a data-shield. I’ve installed a mesh-network of thermal sensors across the entire Ridge. If a South Pack scout even breathes on a hemlock, I’ll have their GPS coordinates before they can shift."

"The old Alphas are going to hate this," Roman said, his laugh a deep, tectonic rumble. "They want to hunt by moonlight. You want to hunt by satellite."

"I want to hunt by winning," Sloane corrected.

The Boardroom: 11:00 AM

The boardroom was a theater of power. Twelve men and women sat around the obsidian table—half of them human executives who thought they were running a global investment firm, the other half high-ranking Alphas who knew they were protecting a kingdom.

Sloane stood at the head of the table. She didn't use a PowerPoint. She used a live-stream of the North Ridge’s digital infrastructure.

"The revolution is over," she said, her voice clear and cold. "Silas Vane is a ghost. The South Pack is in receivership. But our biggest threat isn't a rival wolf. It’s transparency."

The human executives shifted in their seats. The Alphas narrowed their eyes.

"We are moving the Pack’s assets into a decentralized autonomous organization," Sloane continued, her fingers flying across her tablet. "By the end of the day, the North Ridge will be the first sovereign entity that exists both in the physical world and the digital one. No more shell companies. No more 'Miscellaneous' expenses. We are going to be so legal, so profitable, and so efficient that the IRS will treat us like a protected species."

"And if they don't?" one of the human board members asked, his voice trembling.

Roman stepped forward, his presence filling the room like a physical weight. He didn't shift. He didn't growl. He simply looked at the man with a gaze that held the weight of a thousand years of predators.

"Then my wife will find their offshore accounts," Roman said softly. "And I will find their scent."

The room went silent. It was the perfect synthesis of the modern and the primal.

The Rooftop: Sunset

The sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the North Ridge in shades of bruised purple and burning orange. Sloane and Roman stood on the edge of the helipad, the wind whipping at their clothes.

"You really did it," Roman said, looking out over the city. "You balanced the beast, Sloane."

"I didn't balance it, Roman," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I integrated it. You can't fight the future with claws alone. And you can't build a future without a foundation of truth."

Roman turned her to face him, his amber eyes glowing in the twilight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

"I know we’re already married," he whispered. "But the first time... I was a liar. I was a man in a cage. I want to do it right. As an Alpha. As a partner."

He opened the box. Inside wasn't a diamond. it was a ring made of blackened steel and raw silver, etched with the same blue runes that pulsed on his chest.

"Sloane Pierce," Roman said, his voice thick with a raw, unshielded emotion. "Will you be the Luna of the North Ridge? Not as my wife, but as my equal. Forever."

Sloane looked at the ring, then at the man she had audited, investigated, and ultimately, saved. She took the ring and slid it onto her finger. It felt hot—as if it were alive.

"Only if you agree to the new bylaws," she said, a tear of genuine happiness blurring her vision.

"Anything," Roman breathed.

"No morevenison withdrawals without a receipt," she whispered.

Roman laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy that echoed across the skyscraper peaks. He swept her into his arms, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that tasted of victory and the wild, unbreakable future they had built together.

The ledger was finally balanced. The "Happy Happy Ending" wasn't a finish line; it was a new beginning. The beast and the auditor, the king and the queen, standing at the edge of a world they had conquered with both blood and ink.

In the North Ridge, the wolves were no longer hiding in the shadows. They were running the world.