Lucien’s POV

    20 Free bCoins /b

    The gates of Stormridge loomed tall and ck against the moonlight when we returned. The storm above had not yet broken, but the clouds hung heavy, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. My men filed in behind me, tired but alive.

    Aurora was the first thing I saw when the doors of Duskgrave manor opened. My daughter stood there in her nightgown, curls wild around her small face, her wide eyes searching desperately for me. She wasn’t alone. The Matriarch, regal even in her age, lingered close, her presence steady as stone. Beside her, Mrs. Beck and Mia wrung their hands, worry etched deep into their features.

    The moment my boots touched the stone steps, Aurora ran forward. The women were quick to follow, surrounding me like a tide. Their hands checked my arms, my chest, even brushing my jaw as if they needed to make sure I was flesh and not a fading ghost.

    “You’re not hurt?” Mrs. Beck pressed.

    “No wounds, no broken bones?” the Matriarch added, though her sharp eyes already scanned me thoroughly.

    I caught Aurora as she flung herself at me, her small arms wrapping around my neck with surprising strength. My heart softened instantly. For a moment, the storm inside me calmed.

    “Papa,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look into my face. Her eyes, gods, they were Riley’s eyes. “Is it true? Did you fight the white wolf? My teacher says white wolves are gifts from the Moon Goddess herself. Are they really that powerful?”

    Her voice was so pure, so unguarded, that for a moment I could not breathe. Against my will, my thoughts dragged me back to the masked warrior I had faced only hours ago–the way her strikes cut through the night, the way her aura wed at my wolf like an equal. And then further still, deeper, to memories of Riley. The way she had once moved with the same reckless grace. The way her presence had once filled every corner of me.

    The ache was sudden, dangerous. I forced it down.

    I knelt, cupping Aurora’s cheek with a hand still stained faintly with the scent of blood and steel. “Yes, little one. The white wolf is strong. Stronger than most Alphas.”

    Her lips parted, her eyes shining with awe. “Did she reallye from the Moon Goddess?”

    “She did,” I said softly. My voice cracked before I caught it. “And so did your mother.”

    Her mouth fell open in wonder. “Mama too?”

    I nodded, and when her arms squeezed me tighter, I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. “Your mother was one of the strongest white wolves the world has ever seen. And one day, Aurora, you will be too.”

    Her face lit with a joy that chased the storm from my heart. “Really?”

    “Really.” I kissed her forehead, tasting salt and rain in her hair. “She watches over you still. She’d want you

    11:38 pm PPSS

    +20 bFree /bCoins

    to remember that.”

    The Matriarch’s eyes softened, Mrs. Beck brushed her handkerchief across damp eyes, and for a heartbeat the war felt far away. But only for a heartbeat.

    “Go with Mrs. Beck,” I told Aurora gently. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning.” She pouted, but obeyed, casting onest shining smile over her shoulder before Mrs. Beck led her down the hall.

    The Matriarch inclined her head, regal and silent, before stepping aside. She knew I had no luxury for fatherhood tonight.

    I straightened my shoulders and walked into the council chamber. The air inside was thick, waiting. Around the long table sat the lesser Alphas and Betas of the Eastern packs–men and women who hade here not out of loyalty, but fear. They feared I would falter. They feared the storm had finally broken me.

    They rose when I entered. I didn’t ask them to. Power demands acknowledgment.

    “Sit,” I ordered, and they obeyed.

    I stood at the head of the table, my hands braced against the carved wood. “Tonight was not conquest,” I began. My voice carried, low and sharp. “It was a measure. A test of the West’s border strength.”

    They leaned forward as one, eager. I let them wait, let the silence stretch long enough that their nerves showed.

    “The West is disciplined,” I said atst. “Their forces respond swiftly, coordinated, sharper than I anticipated. Their defenses are not scattered. Every soldier fights like a piece of one body, one mind. They do not break easily.”

    A murmur rippled around the table. Some frowned, some clenched their fists, but all listened.

    “And the white wolf?” someone asked, his toneced with both fear and hunger.

    I let the question hang before I answered. “She is real. And she is dangerous.”

    They shifted uneasily. I let my gaze sweep across them, pinning each in turn. “Her presence alone bent the battlefield. Her aura pressed like an Alpha’s–no, stronger. To face her without strategy is suicide. Do not mistake brute strength for victory. If we are to crush the West, it will not be through force. It will be through wit. Through their weakness.”

    “Then what is their weakness?” one pressed.

    I leaned back, crossing my arms. “That is what I intend to discover.”

    Gasps, whispers, a swell of apprehension. I silenced them with a look. “I will infiltrate their territory. Myself. I will see their strongholds, their patrols, their supply lines. And I will find where they break.”

    “Alone?” Caelum’s voice cut through the chamber. He had been silent until now, his eyes zing with loyalty and defiance. “Then I go with you.”

    “No.” My answer was immediate, final.

    His jaw tightened. “You cannot expect me to remain behind while you—”

    11:38 pm bP /bP S S

    +20 Free Coins

    “I can, and I do.” I met his gaze, hard as stone. “More wolves mean arger target. A louder scent. This requires silence. Stealth. I will mask my scent, suppress my wolf. It will take everything I have to keep myself unseen. If I am discovered, I cannot even risk shifting, not without giving away who I am.”

    The council stirred, realizing the risk.

    Caelum’s fists clenched. “Then all the more reason you need me.”

    “No.” I growled. My voice cracked like thunder. “Your duty is here. To the pack. To my daughter. If I fall, Stormridge cannot.”

    Silence fell heavy. The Matriarch’s face was unreadable, but I saw approval flicker in her gaze.

    Caelum swallowed hard, then inclined his head, though I read the frustration in every line of him. “As youmand.”

    I turned back to the table. “Prepare our forces. Hold the borders. Await my return. We will not fight the West in blindness. We will not throw our wolves into ughter. When we strike, it will be precise. And it will be final.”

    The storm outside cracked with distant thunder, and I felt it in my bones.

    Aria. The white wolf of the West. Masked, untouchable.

    But not for long.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!