FAYE
It was finally evening.
By the time the sun dipped low, the pack house felt alive in a way that only happened on nights that truly mattered. Lanterns glowed softly along the paths outside, music drifted faintly through open windows, and voices–laughter, greetings, reverent murmurs–rose and fell like a living pulse.
Almost everyone was here.
Not just those who lived within the pack house walls, but those who stayed farther out, on the edges of the territory. The ones who didn’t always attend gatherings unless it was important.
Tonight was important.
Tonight was a celebration–for their Alpha, for his victory, for his continued leadership over Blood Crescent.
Somehow, standing in the middle of all of it–or rather, just outside the center of it–it still felt surreal that I belonged here. That I was part of this world. That I was his.
Alexander was already in the room when I found him, standing near the mirror as he worked on his outfit with quiet focus. I paused just inside the doorway without meaning to, the sight of him stopping me in my tracks.
He was dressed in a dark grey suit that fit him far too well, paired with a black shirt underneath that made the color of his eyes look brighter, sharper. His jacket was still unbuttoned, his posture relaxed. And his hair–Moon Goddess, his hair–was styled just enough to look intentional without losing that natural edge, like he hadn’t tried too hard and didn’t need to.
Dangerously breathtaking. For some weird reason, I’ve been doing this a lot lately… admiring my man.
I must have been staring longer than I realized, because without turning fully around, he spoke casually, as if he’d felt my gaze on him.
“You know I’m all yours, right?” he said. “You don’t have to admire me from afar.”
I froze.
Heat rushed straight to my face.
“Oh my…” I laughed, half mortified, half amused. “You’re too cocky for your own good, Alexander.”
He turned then, one brow lifting, lips curving into that familiar smug smile. “Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” I said firmly, stepping farther into the room. “Extremely.”
He returned to his tie, fingers tugging at the fabric with mild impatience as his eyes flicked over me–slowly… thoroughly. Then he paused.
“You’re not dressed yet,” he observed. “The ceremony starts soon.”
I groaned softly. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
He waited, clearly expecting an explanation.
“My meeting with you and Cole took up the time I was supposed to use to decide what to wear,” I said. “By the time that ended, Irene had already gone into full control mode. We only just decided on something.”
He shook his head slightly. “I should’ve let you go earlier.”
“You absolutely should have,” I agreed. “But try telling you that when you’re focused.”
He hummed. “Fair.”
I stepped closer and reached for his tie. “Let me help you.”
His hands dropped instantly, surrendering the tie to me without hesitation. He moved closer- close enough that I could feel the warmth of him–and as I focused on straightening the fabric and adjusting the knot, his hands settled at my waist.
He wasn’t gripping hard. His hands were… just there.
Then his thumbs began tracing slow, lazy circles against my sides, and I had to fight the urge to inhale sharply.
“Alexander,” I warned lightly, eyes still on the tie. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to mess this up.”
“What am I doing?” he asked, far too innocently.
I snorted. “Don’t play innocent with me.”
“I genuinely don’t know what you mean,” he said smoothly, his hands continuing their quiet torture.
I glanced up, ready to call him out-
And he kissed me.
His mouth claimed mine, his hands tightening at my waist like he’d finally decided he’d teased me long enough. My fingers curled into his jacket automatically, the tie forgotten as I leaned into him.
I kissed him back without hesitation, breath catching as the kiss deepened. He kissed like he always did–like he knew exactly what he was doing–and I melted far too easily.
My heart raced… My skin warmed under his touch. My thoughts scattered immediately.
When he pulled back slightly, my lips parted without permission, breath uneven, and I hated how much I wanted him right then.
“Alexander,” I breathed, barely recognizing my own voice.
“Yes, love,” he whispered, breathing unsteady. “You’re going to make it very difficult for me to leave this room tonight.”
I smiled faintly, still breathless. “You started it.”
He chuckled softly–and then his phone rang.
The sound was abrupt, slicing straight through the moment.
He stilled.
I groaned quietly.
Alexander sighed, resting his forehead against mine for one second before pulling back and reaching for his phone. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening just slightly.
“I have to take this,” he said, regret clear in his eyes.
I nodded, even though disappointment flickered through me. “Go.”
He stepped aside, voice dropping as he answered the call, posture shifting back into Alpha mode almost instantly. I didn’t hear much–only enough to know his attention was needed elsewhere, something that couldn’t wait.
He ended the call sooner than I expected and turned back to me.
“I’ll be back,” he said firmly. “Just a moment.”
I smiled, my body still humming with want. “I know.”
He kissed my forehead this time–gentler. “Get ready. I don’t want you rushing.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Funny… truly funny.
This–this–was exactly why I hadn’t marched into his territory the moment I’d clawed my way back to life. Why I hadn’t torn down his gates, dragged him into the open, and killed him where everyone could see it.
Because how do you explain that?
How do you justify going to war when the reason is that someone murdered you… and you’re back to life?
There would’ve been no proof. No body, no witnesses… just an Alpha suddenly declaring war on another Alpha “without provocation.” The High Circle would’ve descended on me like vultures, and Patrick would’ve played the grieving ally card perfectly… if he were still alive.
He would’ve won.
And I refused to let him.
Now, here he was–handing me the blade himself.
“The audacity,” I murmured, eyes still on the document. “It needs to be studied.”
Cole chuckled. “More like stupidity.”
Patrick had always underestimated two things: my patience and my silence.
I remembered Faye’s words clearly, spoken with that calm certainty she carried when she knew she was right.
Let him take it to them. Men like that always drown themselves when they think they’re being clever.
She was right. Patrick was going to drown himself this time.
Now he would have to stand before the High Circle. Before every Alpha in the region. Before leaders who understood power, territory, and betrayal better than anyone.
And this time, he wouldn’t be able to hide.
Every thread he’d pulled… every lie, every manipulation… would unravel in public.
I folded the invitation neatly and placed it on the desk.
“Now that he’s involved the court,” I said quietly, “he’s already lost.”
Cole straightened. “On your order, I can be in Moon Claw by tomorrow. Start digging… stir things up.”
I lifted a hand. “Relax.”
He blinked. “Relax?”
“Yes,” I said calmly.
The truth was, part of me wanted to deal with Patrick the old way–claws, blood, finality. But that
man didn’t deserve a warrior’s death. He deserved exposure. To be stripped bare in front of those who once trusted him. So thinking of it that way made me feel less pressure.
I liked Faye’s idea. I’ll send Cole to Moon Claw… get witnesses. And then we’d let the High Circle do what they did best–pass judgment without mercy.
I stood, slipping my jacket back on.
“Tonight,” I said, “we celebrate.”

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