Third Person’s POV
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Unlike themoners, Ulrik didn’t dare show his face during the day. He was terrified of being torn apart by the public’s insults.
He only felt safe enough to crawl out of his hole and stand guard here under the cover of darkness.
He had been pacing the entrance for over an hour, wrestling with the urge to go inside and apologize to Alpha Zande
But every time his fingers brushed the heavy oak door, he flinched back like he’d been electrocuted.
C
When Lance and Adide’s carriage pulled up, he instinctively backed away, retreating deeper into the shadows of the corner.
The urge to hide was primal; by now, he was essentially public enemy number one.
He knew the so–called “glory” he’d imed at the border was nowing back to haunt him with a
vengeance.
Strangely, the public bacsh made him feel more at peace. It saved him from having to exin the filthy political deals he’d made.
If he took the punishment he deserved, maybe his conscience wouldn’t weigh so heavy.
Lance stepped out of the carriage first, then reached back with a gentle hand to help Adide down.
From the darkness, Ulrik’s eyes drifted uncontrobly to their joined hands, and his wolf released a sharp, bitter scent of jealousy.
Tonight, Adide wasn’t wearing her intimidating military uniform.
She wore a midnight–blue velvet gown, with a tightced corset that perfectly entuated her poise.
The heavy skirt was hand–embroidered with silver thread and tiny pearls, creating a pattern of flowing moonlight and stars that shimmered under the dimmps. It looked as if she had draped the winter night <b>sky </b>over her shoulders.
Over the dress, she wore a heavy ck wool cloak lined with blood–red velvet.
<b>As </b>the night wind howled past, it caught the hem of the gloak, revealing that sh of scarlet–a sudden <b>burst </b><b>of </b><b>heat </b>in the dark, like a flickering me.
<b>The </b><bst </b><b>few </b><b>times </b>Ulrik had seen her, she had been a soldier. Seeing her back in a gown only highlighted how breathtaking she <b>really </b>was.
<b>Her </b><b>eyes </b><b>were </b><b>slightly </b>rimmed with red, giving her an air of heartbreaking vulnerability.
<b>Ulrik </b><b>looked </b><b>away </b><b>immediately</b><b>, </b><b>as </b>if <b>the </b>sight had physically burned him.
P23
OOG
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<b>16:07 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Feb </b><b>23 </b><b>B </b>
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He prayed the streetlights weren’t bright enough to reveal him, hoping they were too caught up in their reunion to notice him lurking in the corner like a rat.
He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Lance’s handsome, arrogant face–he didn’t want to see how well they fit together, or how much they looked like a true fated mate.
Since he acted like he wasn’t there, Lance and Adide returned the favor and ignored himpletely.
The Royal Sentry at the gate opened the doors with a respectful bow, and the couple walked inside under theplex gaze of the guards.
Because Alf had passed along the message, Alpha Zander had been waiting in the living room since dinner.
с
The doors and windows were shut tight, and a roaring fire chased away the winter chill.
Finally, the familiar sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Zander snapped his head up as themplight hit the doorway. Seeing her face, the knot of anxiety in his chest finally loosened.
Zander didn’t care if people thought they were a “power couple.” As a grandfather nearing the end of his road, his only concern was whether Lance actually cherished his granddaughter.
Back at the border, their letters had been strictly about the war and the political mess in the capital. Adide rarely talked about her personal life, and when she did, she kept it brief.
Zander had heard that Lance treated her well, and he’d seen a glimpse of it at the city gates.
But seeing them walk in now, fingers tightly inteced–seeing the raw Alpha protectiveness and devotion in Lance’s eyes–Zander knew. Lance loved and respected Adide more than his own life.
Lance and Adide walked to the center of the room and dropped to one knee, offering Zander the highest mark of respect.
“Grandfather…”
Adide called out his name, her voice cracking before she could say another word.
<b>She </b>pressed her forehead against the cold floor, her shoulder’s shaking violently.
She <b>was </b>fighting to keep herposure, desperate to shove her tears back.
She didn’t want him to see her weak; she didn’t want to add to his worties.
<b>Right </b><b>now</b><b>, </b><b>her </b><b>grandfather </b>didn’t need a crying girl. He needed a steel–willed Gamma and the Luna of the <b>ckthorns</b>.
<b>Alpha </b><b>Zander </b><b>watched </b><b>her </b>in silence. He knew <b>she </b>was crying; those trembling shoulders reminded him <b>of </b><b>a </b><b>wounded </b><b>pup</b>.
MON
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<b>16:07 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Feb </b><b>23 </b>
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Adide had truly grown up. The battlefield and the Pce power struggles had taught her how to hide her heart.
But seeing her like this hurt Zander more than a physical de.
She was his only granddaughter, the light of his life.
In his dreams, Adide should have grown up pampered and free, doing whatever made her happy.
Wasn’t thebined power of the Frostfangs and Doyle families enough to protect her from the world?
From the day she was born, he had imagined her life: a loud, joyful childhood and a spirited youth, where her only job was to be beautiful and happy.
But it seemed the Moon Goddess had other ns.
She had been forced to face death far too early, forced to put on armor and pick up a de. She had been forced to be a warrior.
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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.