The next day after the raid, the Nightshade Pack was buzzing with a renewed, determined energy. Life in a successful, powerful Pack was structured around preparedness. While the Alpha and Beta often led high-risk missions, the majority of the pack members dedicated their days to the ceaseless cycle of maintenance, defense, and training.
Myra watched from the balcony of the main lodge, observing the controlled chaos below. She was finally, truly free—yet she chose to stay, drawn by an invisible, powerful thread to the man who was now her protector and lover.
In the fields surrounding the central clearing, warriors managed supply inventories, meticulously checked patrol schedules, and rotated shifts on the perimeter defenses. The logistics section was busy ensuring the healers were fully stocked, while the elders led the youngest pups in basic tracking drills. This general rhythm of duty, collaboration, and collective responsibility was the heartbeat of the Pack.
The most intense activity, however, was always at the combat field.
In a large, fenced-in arena of hard-packed dirt and strategically placed boulders, Kian and Gareth were leading the day’s advanced training session. Kian, a blur of speed and focused aggression, sparred against three seasoned wolves simultaneously, moving with the fluid grace of a storm. Every hit, every dodge, was a lesson in calculated risk.
Beside him, Gareth, the solid oak of the Pack, focused on teaching controlled power. He was working one-on-one with several younger warriors, his movements economical and his posture immovable.
"Shift, Rook! Drop your shoulder and drive forward!" Gareth's voice was a low growl that carried across the field, stern but devoid of anger. He blocked a clumsy strike, the impact barely shifting his massive frame, and then gently counter-attacked, illustrating how the momentum should have been channeled.
Kian paused his own intense bout, wiping sweat from his brow before turning to address the entire group. "The Heralds are no longer active. They are panicked, fractured, and the devil Octavia will come to us as in many faces. Complacency is death. You fight today for the lives of your mates and your children."
The sight of the two most powerful men in the Pack, covered in dirt and commanding respect with every move, was a potent reminder of why Nightshade endured.
Amelia joined Myra on the sun-drenched balcony, holding two steaming mugs of black tea.
"It’s almost impossible to believe they just pulled an all-nighter fighting an armed militia," Amelia commented, passing a mug to Myra.
Myra took a sip, warming her hands. She couldn't take her eyes off Gareth, the Beta, who had just managed to disarm a warrior in a single, lightning-fast move.
"They look like they could run on pure willpower," Myra said quietly. "It’s... mesmerizing. They lead by being the strongest, the fastest, the best.They both are so hot with sweaty and dusty boy. Look how they are shining under the sun" Myra licked her lips.
Amelia smiled, leaning on the railing, her gaze fixed on Kian. "That’s what you admire most about them, isn’t it? That strength. It’s what makes them leaders, and it's what makes them safe."
"For Gareth, it's more than strength," Myra admitted. "He's terrifying when he needs to be, but he’s so gentle with me. He was the only person who saw me as an asset, not a weapon or a debt. I owe him so much."
"You don't owe him anything, sweetie," Amelia corrected gently. "That's a lie that someone put into your head. Gareth doesn't want gratitude. He wants you. And he has wanted you for a long time. I know Kian noticed it months ago—the way Gareth watched you."
Myra blushed fiercely. "I had no idea the Alpha and Luna were privy to my impulsive mistakes."
Amelia laughed. "We are the Alpha and Luna. We know everything, darling. We saw the kiss. It was beautiful and long overdue."
Myra felt a familiar wave of heat rise to her cheeks, but she pushed through the shyness. This was a private moment, a space between women, and she needed to ask the question that had been occupying her mind since Gareth promised to stay with her every night.
"Luna Amelia," Myra started, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Since... since I am free, and since Gareth is staying with me now... I wanted to ask you something. You and Alpha Kian—you've been together for months now, you know the Wolf ways." She hesitated, twisting the teacup handle. "Does the first time... does it hurt? Is it true what they say about the Wolf being too... much? Can they control themselves or behave like monsters?"
Amelia turned to face Myra fully, her expression softening with genuine understanding.
"Ah, the age-old question," Amelia said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She gently took Myra's hand. "First, let me tease you for a second, because it’s fun: Myra, darling, if the first time hurt, do you really think Kian and I would look this happy and well-rested? I mean I won’t say that it doesn’t hurt, but these men know how to be gentle and please their mate"
Myra managed a small, nervous smile.
Amelia’s expression turned serious, comforting. "Here’s the truth: Wolf shifters are built for passion. We are strong, yes, but we are also inherently protective and attuned to our mates. The first time—and every time—it's about connection, not power. Gareth is a Beta. He is the most disciplined, controlled man in this entire Pack. He will never take anything you don't offer freely. And because he is Gareth, he will be so focused on your pleasure and your comfort that you will probably forget to be nervous."
She squeezed Myra's hand. "It won’t hurt, Myra. It will be intense, and it will be breathtaking, but it will be everything you ever wanted. Trust him. Trust the connection. When you love them, the Wolf only ever brings bliss."
Myra felt a huge wave of relief wash over her. She smiled, truly happy, and looked back toward the field where Gareth stood, a giant among men, waiting for her. "Thank youLuna."
The night was as black as spilled ink, the moon obscured by thick clouds. The lodge was silent, save for the crackling of the embers in the great hearth downstairs.
Kian lay in the massive bed, his body heavy with sleep, still recovering from the brutal effort of the raid. He stirred, reaching for Amelia automatically, only to find her side of the bed cool. He sat up, his Alpha instincts immediately kicking in, the scent of wrongness prickling the fur beneath his skin.
"Amelia?" he whispered into the darkness. No response.
He swung his legs out of bed, his eyes, adapted to the dark, scanning the room. The thick velvet curtains were drawn, blocking any ambient light. The room was pitch-black and silent.
A faint sound reached him then: a muted footstep just outside the heavy, double-leaf bedroom door.
Who is out there?
His heart slammed against his ribs. The Heralds were desperate. Did Octavia infiltrate the lodge? Was Amelia taken? His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. He was an Alpha, and his Luna was gone. Panic threatened to overwhelm him.
He silently reached for the clothes he’d discarded hours ago, fingers brushing against the cold leather of the gun holster he kept under his pillow. He was halfway to his feet when he heard it again: low, excited whispers, followed by a muffled burst of giggling.
It wasn't a threat. It sounded like... a crowd. A crowd of people trying to be quiet, failing miserably, and sounding terribly close.
Kian froze, his hand inches from his weapon. He was still processing the sound, trying to decide whether to attack the door or retreat to the window, when the massive, ornate bedroom doors suddenly burst inward.
The pitch-black darkness was instantly obliterated by a blinding flash of light and the combined shout of fifty voices exploding in unison:
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALPHA!"