Third Person’s POV
After the formal introductions, Alfred offered his respects to Craig, Ellen, and Anilo.
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Seeing his humble attitude–and the fact that he hadn’t let out a single whimper while getting his tail kicked earlier–the three warriors decided to cut him some ck. He was officially part of the crew.
Adide, however, had one more question, “You’re in the Obsidian Guard. Aren’t you worried about your bossesing down on you for seeking out Paisley? Lycan Erasmus is incredibly paranoid about the ckthorns right now.”
Alfred answered with a stiff, respectful bow.
“I don’t care. If I have the skills, my career will find its footing eventually. But if I don’t sharpen my edge now, even if Lycan Erasmus uses me today, I won’t be able to hold that position tomorrow.”
“If a stronger wolfes along and takes my spot because I was toozy to train, that’s real humiliation. I’m young; I can afford to wait.”
Adide nodded slowly. She liked his rity.
It was rare to find a wolf who stayed that grounded after so much bad luck. It seemed Lance’s intuition about trusting him wasn’t misced after all.
Once Alfred left, Avery drifted into the room like a ghost.
He stared at the pile of gifts Alfred had brought, but for the first time in history, he didn’t dive in headfirst. Normally, he would have been halfway through the boxes by now, pocketing anything shiny.
A few weeks ago<i>, </i>Avery had taken his entire year’s earnings back to the Ancient Moon Pack. Instead of getting a pat on the back, his Alpha and Luna gave him a lecture.
He’d spent a fortune on shy, cheap jewelry and trendy perfumes, which they saw as a total waste of
<b>money</b>.
But the very next day, every she–wolf in the pack was wearing the jewelry and smelling like roses.
<b>Even </b>the butler admitted, “There’s no harm in thedies dressing up, especially with the Winter Solsticeing<b>.</b><b>” </b>
The <b>Ancient </b>Moon Luna, who was a softie at heart, eventually stopped nagging.
<b>But </b>the night before <b>Avery </b>headed back to the capital, his Alpha called him into the study for a heart–to- <b>heart</b>.
<b>“</b><b>We </b><b>might </b><b>be </b><b>poor</b><b>, </b>Avery, but <b>we’ve </b>been poor a long time with our honor intact. <b><i>If </i></b>someone gives you a <b>gift, </b><b>say </b><b>thank </b><b>you </b><b>and </b><b>ept </b>it<b>. </b><b>but </b>if <b>they </b>don’t give <b>it</b><b>, </b>taking it by force or stealth is just in rude. It <b>shames </b><b>the </b><b>pack</b>.”
<b>16:07 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Feb </b><b>23 </b>
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Avery had been moved by the speech, but he couldn’t help but ask, “So, back when I was a pup and you sent me to pick fights with the neighbor’s kids so you could demand ‘rentpensation‘ when I lost… was that an honor thing?”
He was almost kicked out of the pack on the spot for that one.
So, this year, he’d sworn to the Moon Goddess to be a “civilized” wolf.
“Not gonna look?” Paisley asked, watching Avery stare at the gifts until his eyes practically popped out of
his head.
Avery took eep breath, puffed out his chest, and looked righteous. “That’s your stuff. I’m not a rude person.”
Adide and Paisley nearly choked on their coffee.
“I’m sorry, who are you and what have you done with Avery?” Paisley asked, looking at him like he’d grown a second head.
“You? Not rude? Then who was the guy who used to steal my private stash of liquor and ‘borrow‘ my daggers permanently?”
“That was the old me. Things are different now,” Avery said with a dead serious shake of his head. “I am now a wolf of… refined character.”
He tried to think of a fancier word to describe himself, but his vocabry failed him.
Paisley rolled her eyes and started opening the boxes.
Inside were two bottles of aged brandy, a pair of exquisite silver candlesticks, and some high–grade magical herbs.
“Take ‘em.”
Paisley shoved the whole pile toward Avery.
“These are for the Alpha and Luna of the Ancient Moon Pack. They looked a bit thinst time I saw them; they could use the herbs and the spirits.”
<b>Avery’s </b>eyes lit up. If Paisley gave them to him, it was legal! If was fair game!
<b>He </b><b>gathered </b>the gifts into his arms with lightning speed and gave a very polite bow.
“Thank <b>you</b><b>, </b>Instructor <b>Paisley</b>! You’re a saint!”
The <b>next </b>night<b>, </b>the <b>sky </b><b>was </b>like <b>a </b>sheet of heavy ck velvet, draping the capital in shadow.
<b>Lance </b><b>and </b>Adide traveled in a in carriage with no pack crest, quietly pulling up to Alpha Zander’s
<b>estate</b><b>. </b>
<b>Even </b><b>from </b><b>the </b><b>outside</b><b>, </b><b>you </b><b>could </b><b>tell </b>the Royal Sentry was taking the job seriously.
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The tarnished family crest had been polished and hung straight, and the weeds had been cleared away.
Even the iron rivets on the heavy oak doors had been buffed until they gleamed under the flickering gaslights.
During the day, a few bravemoners had stopped by to leave small tokens of respect–bs of venison or bottles of homemade fruit wine–leaving them quietly at the gate before slipping away.
Right now, Ulrik was standing alone in the shadows by the entrance.
OIG
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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.