Alexander’s POV
“Border breach,” I said tersely<b>, </b>yanking on my pants with quick<b>, </b>efficient movements. <b>“</b>Three <b>rogues </b>were found dead just inside our territory<b>. </b>But that’s not the worst part.”
“What else happened?” Summer asked, correctly reading the new tension in my shoulders.
“It’s Lyra. Her water broke.” <b>I </b>ran a hand through my disheveled hair. “She’s at the pack hospital. The baby’sing early.<b>” </b>
Summer’s eyes widened. “She’s not due for another two weeks.”
Even as she spoke, she was already slipping into her dress, her movements swift and precise.
Watching her seamlessly shift from the aftermath of our passion to sharp, focused readiness made my wolf rumble with approval. She wasn’t just my mate–she was everything a Luna should be.
“I know,” I muttered, jaw clenched as I helped zip up her dress, my fingers less steady than I would have liked. “Between this and the border situation…”
Summer ced her hand on my cheek, bringing my focus back to her. <b>“</b>Your sister needs you right now. The border security can follow protocol until <b>you’re </b>able to address it.”
She was right, of course. I nodded, pressing a quick kiss to her palm before grabbing my jacket.
We barely spoke as we rushed through the hotel lobby. The staff had wisely prepared our car, sensing the urgency. Summer’s hand remained sped tightly in mine during the drive, her presence a steadying
force beside me.
“She’s going to be okay,<b>” </b>Summer murmured, her thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand.”
Lyra is strong.”
“She is,” I agreed, though my mind was racing with concerns. <b>My </b>sister had been through so much
already.
“Do you think it’s connected?” Summer asked quietly. “The border breach and Lyra going intobor on the
same night?<b>” </b>
<b>My </b>wolf growled at the suggestion, though I’d been thinking the same thing. “I don’t believe in
coincidences<b>,</b>” I admitted.
The pack hospital came into view, its modern ss facade gleaming under the security lights. As <b>Alpha</b>, I’d ensured our medical facilities were second to none<b>, </b>equipped with the best technology avable to treat our kind. Now I was grateful for every penny spent as my sister fought to bring her child into the
world.
We rushed through the entrance, the staff immediately directing us to the maternity wing.
Beta Ethan met us at the elevator, his normallyposed features tight with concern.
+15 <b>BONUS </b>
“Alpha, Luna,” he nodded respectfully. “Lyra is in delivery room three. The doctor says she’s progressing rapidly.<b>” </b>
“How long has she been inbor?” I demanded, punching the elevator button with more force than
necessary<b>. </b>
“We believe contractions started earlier this evening during dinner, but she didn’t recognize them as such. By the time she called for help, she was already seven centimeters dted.”
Stubborn, just like always. My sister had probably been suffering in silence for hours, not wanting to ” cause trouble.” The thought made me want to growl in frustration.
“What about the border situation?” I asked as we stepped into the elevator.
Ethan’s expression darkened. “The security team has secured the area. Three dead rogues, all bearing Cross’s mark on their left shoulder. I’ve sent you the preliminary photos to review.”
As if on cue, my phone vibrated. I pulled it out, quickly scanning through the images of the bodies and the distinctive symbol burned into their skin. Lucien Cross had grown bold–or desperate–to make such an obvious move.
I handed the phone back to my pockets, my wolf snarling beneath the surface. “Double the guards on every entrance. No one gets in or out without direct clearance from you or me.”
“Already done, Alpha.”
The elevator doors opened onto the maternity floor, and the conversation was temporarily halted as we made our way to Lyra’s room. I could hear her pained cries before we even reached the door, the sound making my protective instincts surge,
<b>“</b><b>You </b>should <i>go </i>in,” Summer said, squeezing my hand. “She needs her brother right now.”
I hesitated. “Will you…?”
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