Third Person’s POV


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    <b>48 </b>


    +20 Free Coins


    <b>As </b>an Alpha who had been managed by his mate for twenty or thirty years, Elias’s first instinct when considering any issue was always his mate’s perspective.


    This wasn’t nobility; it was a deeply ingrained, conditioned reflex.


    If this center actually got approved, he could practically see the look on his mate’s face–that “finally, someone is speaking up for us” expression.


    A happy mate meant fewer arguments at home, and he could enjoy a more peaceful life.


    Most importantly, his mate would likely volunteer for such a meaningful cause–whether it was helping out or teaching other she–wolves how to negotiate with their mates.


    As long as she was busy, she wouldn’t constantly nitpick his harmless little ws.


    Ugh. At her age, his mate had twenty sensitive days a month, especially around the full moon. Even his sneeze could be blown up into “you don’t value me.”


    The controversy in the Council quickly spiraled, hitting the streets hard.


    You could hear the arguments over the Independent She–Wolf Center in bars, coffee shops, barbershops, outside churches, and at street corners across the capital.


    Many male wolves simply couldn’t believe Lance would propose this–Was he insane?


    Had his Lunapletely clouded his judgment?


    They understood clearly that if there was a ce explicitly designed to take in abandoned she- wolves, their mates would gain a massive amount of leverage in any argument.


    The moment the phrase “You try that again, and I’m registering at the Independent She–Wolf Center” was uttered, the carefully constructed “domestic order” in many male wolves‘ minds would crumble.


    Most established noble families firmly disagreed with Adide’s approach.


    In their view, if a she–wolf had problems, they should be solved within the pack. Why encourage them to seek help from an outside organization?


    Even Lunas of high standing packs weren’t universally supportive–some understood that if


    <b>17:47 </b>Tue, <b>Dec </b><b>23 </b>


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    +20 Free Coins


    lower–ranking she–wolves had a fallback, the authority they maintained through “charity and patronage” would be undermined.


    Only a few she–wolves, those who truly understood the desperate plight of female survival and realized the mating bond wasn’t always a blessing, quietly supported the idea, but they would never speak out or openly endorse it.


    They knew too well what that meant: opposing the entire system.


    While the outside world was in an uproar, Christine remained at the Bloodmoon Pack, helping to sort through the enormous, depressing mess.


    Rosemary’s health was deteriorating without the Danzel Supply.


    The pack had sent out almost every avable member, trying to buy the tonic everywhere- from Digby Medical Center to several high–end apothecaries. Not only did they fail to secure a single dose, but they also uncovered even more rming news: the price of had soared from $1,000 per capsule to $2,000 per capsule.


    The Danzel Form was a high–grade drug specifically for stabilizing heart muscle and the wolf’s scent field, extremely effective for older she–wolves with heart problems.


    Now the price had doubled, and the distribution channels were restricted. Without the right connections and reputation, they couldn’t even touch the bottle.


    Rosemary was genuinely terrified of dying. Waking up repeatedly with chest pains had given her a tangible, specific fear of death she’d never had before.


    She was constantly anxious, her pheromones taking on a sharp, acidic edge.


    She eventually had Wilmot go beg Christine, asking her to use her influence to purchase a few doses from Digby Medical Center.


    Rosemary knew the Ironw Pack had the connections and reputation needed, and she knew Christine was meticulous about “rules and ounts.”


    After hearing Wilmot’s request, Christine said nothing, simply turning and walking straight to Rosemary’s room.


    She pushed the door open, skipping any pleasantries. “I can go buy the medicine for you.”


    She stood at the foot of the bed, her voice calm to the point of being cold. “The Danzel Form is $2,000 per capsule now. How many


    would


    you


    like?”


    “Ten. I need ten capsules…” Rosemary leaned against her pillows, her breathing shallow and


    17:47 <b>Tue</b><b>, </b>Dec <b>23 </b>


    heavy, the signs of heart failure increasingly obvious.


    <b>47 </b>


    +20 Free Coins


    She widened her eyes, reaching out with both hands as if grasping ast straw, making the “ten” gesture, her eyes filled with near–overflowing greed and relief.


    She thought, “Since Christine is willing to help, I should stock up as much as possible.”


    Christine nodded, as if logging apletely ordinary transaction. “Ten capsules will be $20,000.”


    She looked at the older she–wolf on the bed, her tone measured. “Will you be paying cash, or should I arrange an electronic transfer?”


    Rosemary froze.


    She stared at Christine, the slight droop at the corner of her eyes from heart failure lifting a little with surprise and suspicion. She was trying to figure out if Christine was joking, or if she was truly expected to pay.


    But Christine wasn’t smiling, and there was no warmth in her scent.


    Her back was ramrod straight, her demeanor coolly professional.


    Rosemary felt all the blood rush to her head. The fragile heart in her chest gave a sharp, painful lurch. She struggled to take a breath, utterly unable to believe Christine would bring up money right to her face.


    Sara Lili


    <strong>Sara Lili</strong> is a daring romance writer who turns icyndscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of d’s breathtaking cold.