Third Person’s POV
M
The winter wind howled, cutting across the skin like a jagged de.
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The moment they stepped outside, Gloria shivered from the biting cold. Without a word, Ulrik stripped off his heavy wool overcoat and draped it over her shoulders.
Gloria froze.
She looked up at the Alpha standing before her. His scent, lingering in the fabric of the coat, wrapped around her, and for a split second, her rage simmered down. But sentiment couldn’t change the cold, hard reality: Bloodmoon was t broke.
“Ulrik, you know exactly what kind of hole we’re in,” she said, pulling the coat tighter around her, her voice sharp with desperation.
“I’m not stopping you from selling off the family assets to pay the debts. But if you give that jewelry back to Adide, we’re going to have to cough up hundreds of thousands of dors in cash just to fill the gap in the books!”
“Don’t you dare call me selfish!” Gloria’s eyes welled with tears. “Look at this pack! I have to think about our future! How are we even supposed to put food on the table after this?”
Ulrik stared at her. In the past, he probably would have caved.
But after everything, he finally understood: if he didn’t start making right on his wrongs, he didn’t deserve to be an Alpha.
He didn’t argue. Instead, he released a sudden, heavy wave of Alpha aura that instantly silenced Gloria’s hysterical shouting.
“I’ll find a way to make money, I don’t care what I have to do,” he said firmly. “But the things that belong to other people are going back. This isn’t your call to make.”
He turned on his heel and strode back inside. Gloria reached out to stop him, but her hand caught only empty air.
She stood there, stunned. Usually, she was the one who called the shots on internal affairs; this was the first time Ulrik had ever shut her down.
A toxic mix of resentment and anger spiked in her pheromones before she finally stomped her foot and stormed off into the blizzard.
Inside the house, the manager from the antique firm gave his final quote on the estate items: $1.3 million.
That price excluded Adide’s jewelry.
To an average werewolf family, $1.3 million was a fortune, but for a pack that used to be royalty, it was pocket change. Ulrik wired every cent to Vanya. After the transfer, he was left with about $200,000–the veryst of the Bloodmoon’s cash reserves.
If they were careful, they might just survive the winter.
Byte afternoon, Ulrik walked the appraisers to the edge of the territory.
He knew the news of him liquidating his inheritance would be the talk of the noble circles by tomorrow, but he was beyond caring.
9:31pm
<b>M </b>
As he turned to close the gate, a clear voice called out from behind him, “Alpha Ulrik!”
Ulrik stopped and turned.
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A middle–aged male wolf was standing a short distance away. His eyes were calm as a stillke, and he gave off no scent at all–it was like he was made of air.
Ulrik narrowed his eyes, his guard up. He didn’t recognize this man.
“Excuse me, who are you?”
The man was Raven. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored deep blue wool coat, looking more like a sophisticated university professor than a conspirator.
He stepped forward with a slight nod.
“Alpha Ulrik, I wanted to offer my condolences regarding the tragedies involving Rosemary and Gloria.”
Ulrik instinctively took a half–step back, his body tensing as a low, wary growl rumbled in his chest.
“Thanks. But since you haven’t given me a name, we won’t be hosting you today.”
“I’m Raven,” he said, his eyes projecting nothing but sincerity.
“I’m from the Silverlight Pack. Luna Skye sent me personally to check on you. Given the… unpleasantness between you and Gamma Adide, Luna Skye felt a personal visit might be misunderstood.”
Ulrik paused. He’d rarely met the core members of Silverlight, but he’d definitely heard the name “Raven” mentioned before.
“Tell Luna Skye I appreciate the gesture,” Ulrik said, his voice heavy with regret. “I’m the one who failed Aire and her expectations.”
“The wind is too sharp for a real talk out here,” Raven said, gesturing toward the packhouse.
“Would I have the honor ofing in for a coffee? Luna Skye has some… private matters she wished for me to ry to you.”
Ulrik thought about it. After the rejection, Luna Skye hadn’t joined the chorus of voices bashing him. Meeting with a member of her pack once or twice shouldn’t draw too much attention.
“Fine. Come in,” Ulrik nodded, leading him inside.
In the biting wind behind them, several pairs of eyes hidden in the shadows silently recorded the entire encounter.
Inside the warm living room, Raven raised his coffee cup, using the rising steam to subtly study the Alpha sitting across from him.
He’d been watching Ulrik from the shadows for a long time.
The once–vibrant Alpha had withered away over the course of one brutal winter.
Raven felt a flicker of disappointment.
He had expected that after a string of disasters–suicide, lost power, a miscarriage, and a mother’s death–Ulrik would either be consumed by a violent, ambitious rage or would have totally copsed into a puddle of self–pity.
9:31pm P <b>p </b>
But this Ulrik was too calm. He looked like an empty shell.
However… maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
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Alpha Howell needed a cool–headed partner right now–especially one who still held a core position in the Pce as the Captain of the Royal Guard.
“Luna Skye knows about the tragedies here. She’s been in tears over it,” Raven’s voice was smooth, almost hypnotic.
“She feels incredibly guilty for not stepping in to mediate. Watching Adide sever the mating and walk away didn’t just hurt the Bloodmoon’s honor–it froze the rtionship between our packs.”
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<strong>Olivia Harris</strong> is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.