Third Person’s POV

    +10 Free Coins

    The Matriarch Duskgrave’s tears had barely dried when she steadied herself, inhaling the thick scent of bloodline that clung to the child in her arms. Her voice, though softened with tenderness, still carried the Alpha steel that had oncemanded Stormridge warriors.

    “Little one, what is your name?” she asked gently, brushing a strand of tangled hair from the girl’s cheek.

    The child’s face lit up in a bright smile. Her voice rang out, sweet yet cutting as a de:

    “My name is Bitch.”

    The air in the hall dropped ten degrees. Every wolf present stiffened. Even the mes in the hearth seemed to falter.

    The Matriarch’s gaze darkened, fury shing in her eyes. Her jaw clenched hard enough that her wolf stirred beneath her wrinkled skin. She longed to hunt down whoever had dared brand Riley’s blood with such poison. Her fingers curled into trembling fists—but when she looked down at the girl’s innocent face, her rage shattered against her grandmother’s heart. She forced her voice into softness.

    “No, pup. That is not your name. That is not what you are. Great–Grandmother will give you a new one, a name worthy of who you are. Would you like that?”

    m

    The little girl pped her small hands together, her joy bubbling despite the weight in the room. “Yes! Yes!”

    The Matriarch turned her head toward Lucien Duskgrave, the Stormridge Alpha Prince, seeking his word. His golden eyes softened, though grief still shadowed his face. He saw Riley’s smile in the child’s lips, her fire in the stubborn lift of her chin. The wolf in him rumbled with longing, and with grief.

    After a moment’s silence, he spoke, his voice rich with memory. “Aurora. She will be Aurora Duskgrave.”

    The name was chosen from the marrow of his soul. It was his mourning for Riley,

    r

    19:40 Wed, 3 Sept bR /b

    44%

    b+10 /bFree Coins

    his vow that their daughter would carry the light of dawn even after the longest night.

    The Matriarch’s lips trembled as she repeated it, testing the weight of destiny. “Aurora… Rory, my precious one. Do you like it?”

    The child nodded vigorously, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “I like Aurora! It’s better than Bitch. It sounds like the stars.” She grinned, shing milk–white teeth.

    Relief swept through the room like a cleansing wind. Yet behind every smile lingered sorrow and rage. How much had Riley suffered, and how much cruelty had her daughter endured to ept such a name?

    From that day forward, Stormridge Manor bloomed anew. Aurora’s presence was like fresh spring rain, stirring life where despair had festered. The Matriarch devoted her days to teaching the pup letters and old pack stories. Mrs. Beck filled the kitchens with scents of roasted meats and sweet pastries, spoiling Aurora until her once–thin frame rounded with healthy weight.

    And Lucien–Alpha Prince, battle–forged wolf, scarred by loss–healed in ways he never thought possible. He returned to his duties with Stormridge Pack and its alliances, yet no matter howte the meetings ran, he always came home in time to tuck Aurora into bed. He told her stories of wolves beneath the moon, of Riley’s courage, of the bond that blood could never sever. He took her walking in the gardens under starlight, teaching her how to breathe in the night air like a wolf on patrol.

    In two years, Aurora grew strong, lively, radiant. Her–cheeks flushed with health, her limbs sturdy. By the time she turned four, she was ready to attend Mooncrest Academy’s preparatory school.

    Lucien himself insisted on escorting her every morning and retrieving her every afternoon. To the Alpha Prince, there was no duty greater than this.

    One afternoon, as parents gathered to collect their pups, the courtyard slowly emptied until only Aurora remained beside her young teacher. The pup waited patiently, her hands sped behind her back, eyes calm.

    “Aurora, are you tired of standing?” the teacher asked kindly, crouching beside her. “Do you want me to carry you?”

    3 Sept

    44%

    +10 Free Coins

    Aurora’s moon–bright eyes sparkled. She shook her head firmly. “No, teacher. If you carry me, you’ll get tired. I can wait.”

    The teacher nearly melted on the spot, her heart seized by the girl’s pure spirit. She thought to herself: So this is the daughter of Lucien Duskgrave… strong, bright, endlessly kind. The bloodline of Alphas runs deep in her.

    But before another thought could take shape, a shadow fell across them.

    A woman appeared, her scent wild, fractured, tinged with madness. Her eyes burned with fevered obsession. Without warning, she lunged and snatched Aurora into her arms, clutching her like prey imed by a starving beast.

    “Riley… my Riley. You waited for me, didn’t you? Mama hase to take home.” Her voice shook, sharp with desperation.

    The teacher’s scream split the air. “Who are you? Put Aurora down!”

    you

    She rushed forward, but the woman’s grip was iron. Aurora whimpered, shock paling her little face.

    “I’m not Riley–I’m Aurora!” she cried, her voice cracking with fear. She kicked and squirmed, but the woman’s ws dug deeper.

    “No,” the stranger hissed, nails sinking into the child’s skin until red welts bloomed. “You’re my Riley, my little girl. You’re mine. This time, I won’t let anyone steal you away.”

    Aurora’s cry pierced the courtyard, wolf–pup instincts wailing for her pack. “Papa! Great–Grandmother! Help me!”

    The teacher stumbled back, shouting frantically. “Guards! Someone’s trying to steal a child!”

    Security wolves from Mooncrest Academy rushed forward, their growls echoing off the stone walls. “Release the girl now, or we’ll tear you down!”

    But the woman’s madness was untamed. Her arms cinched tighter around Aurora, her gaze feverish. “She’s mine, My everything. No one will separate us. Riley, don’t be afraid. Mama will protect you this time. No one will take you.”

    Aurora’s sobs filled the air as the wolves closed in, a pack on edge, every heartbeat

    |||

    r

    19:40 Wed, 3 Sept Ou

    bracing for blood.