Chapter 37

ELENA

There were a dozen things I was supposed to be focusing on—logistics for the Alliance Summit, reviewing proposals from nearby packs, scheduling site visits for infrastructure coordination—but my mind kept circling back to one thing.

Mason.

More specifically, Mason’s absence.

He’d been disappearing for days now. Not entirely, just enough to make it noticeable. He missed two morning meetings without explanation, then showed up late to our strategy call with the pack’s Beta Council, eyes bloodshot and shirt half untucked—something I hadn’t seen since he was seventeen and sneaking out to meet girls at bonfires.

But this wasn’t high school. This was war. Or something dangerously close to it.

I leaned over the thick maps spread across the table in my father’s office and tapped my finger against a red-marked border.

“Something’s off,” I muttered.

Gamma Chad, who was standing across from me with arms folded, raised an eyebrow. “Which part?”

“All of it.” I blew out a breath and stepped back. “None of the recent rogue attacks make sense. They’re too organized. Too precise. They’re hitting supply lines, communication towers, outposts—not just running wild.”

“It’s concerning,” Chad agreed, his jaw tightening. “Rogues don’t generally operate with…strategy.”

That got me thinking. I knew how to fight—most werewolves do—but I’d been brought up a Luna—military strategy wasn’t really in the syllabus.

I looked to Chad. “If you were a rogue, what would you do? How would you win against packs like ours?”

His mouth quirked, just a little. “Coordinate. Unite scattered groups. Strike surgically, not chaotically. Create fear. Confusion. Distrust.” He paused. “In other words… I’d do exactly what they’re doing now.”

The words settled into my stomach like ice.

“Goddess,” I whispered. “They’re organizing.”

Chad gave a curt nod. “Certainly looks that way.”

I wanted to scream. Or shift. Or throw something.

I was born a Luna, raised in strength and diplomacy, trained in the old arts of reading people and calming storms with words instead of claws. I’d always known I wasn’t the tactician Mason was, or my father, or even Derek.

But lately? Mason wasn’t around. And my father, while still sharp as ever, had been slowly scaling back his work schedule—as much as I didn’t want to think about it, he was approaching the age that he’d be recruited to join the Alpha Council as an elder.

So it fell to me.

“I’ll keep digging,” Chad said, his voice steady. “We’ll figure it out.”

I nodded again, grateful, and took the long way through the corridors back to the residential wing. I needed a break—a soft place to land, even if only for a minute.

I wasn’t expecting to find it in Dawn.

She was already halfway through the glass doors to my suite, her arms open wide, a squeal escaping her lips.

“Elena!”

“Dawn!” I laughed, wrapping her in a hug and breathing in the familiar scent of honey and bergamot. She smelled like home. Like the years before everything fractured.

She stepped back, holding out her left hand proudly. The diamond caught the sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

“Look at that thing,” I teased. “Is it blinding or is it just me?”

She giggled. “I’m not saying it’s heavy, but I’ve had to strengthen my wrist.”

I smiled. “Come on in,” I said, welcoming her to my inner sanctum.

Dawn was one of the few people who I remembered from before my accident—my memories of her amongst the few that had trickled back in during my memory sessions with Dr. Grey.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered.

“I can’t stay long,” she said, sinking into one of the cozy chairs in my personal sitting room. “So much wedding planning still to do!”

I lowered myself into the chair opposite her, smiling, but her gaze slipped downward, just for a second, to my bare ring finger. She didn’t say anything, but I saw the question flicker in her eyes.

“Is Logan coming to the wedding?” she asked casually.

I exhaled. “He’s… busy. Alliance Summit and all that.”

I really didn’t want to field more questions about Logan and our “upcoming” nuptials.

Her brow lifted, but she let it go. “Well, I was going through old letters the other day and guess what I found?”

I blinked. “Do I want to know?”

“A letter from you. We were fifteen. You promised that if I got married first and you had kids, your child would be my flower girl or ring bearer. Do you remember that?”

My mouth opened. I didn’t, not clearly. But a flicker of something—warmth, joy, a memory of laughing in the garden while braiding each other’s hair—surfaced and made my heart ache.

“You think Aiden would be interested?”

“In being a ring bearer?” I asked.

From the doorway, a little voice rang out: “I accept!”

I turned to see Aiden grinning, arms crossed triumphantly like he’d just accepted a royal commission.

Dawn burst out laughing. “Well, that settles that.”

Later, after she’d gone and Aiden had launched into an intense debate with the kitchen staff over which kind of cake was best suited for weddings, I found myself staring out the window, wondering how everything had changed in so many ways.

Six years ago, I was Mia. A name, a mask. A rogue.

Now I was planning diplomacy strategy between packs, hosting dignitaries, trying to protect a child who didn’t even know the full truth of his own origin.

And Mason… was nowhere to be found.

I texted him for the third time that day. No reply. My jaw clenched.

If he was lying to me—if he was hiding something—I’d drag it out of him myself.

---

CASSANDRA

“My daughter.”

My father’s voice rasped through the old landline, rough with whiskey and disappointment.

“Yes, Father,” I said, pacing the sun-drenched porch of the guest estate, one hand pressed to my temple.

“I read the reports. The attack near Silverclaw. Rogues tightening their grip. You do realize how exposed we are? We’re not like them, Cassandra. We don’t have warriors to spare.”

I looked out over to the fieldhouse where even now Derek’s warriors were training, sharp voices ringing out interlaced with the occasional snarl. My pack—my home pack—didn’t have facilities even remotely like it.

I sighed. “I know.”

“Then do something.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re dragging your feet. That’s what you’re doing.”

How had it come to this? Seven years ago, Derek and I had planned a trip around the world—I would have come home with a ring on my finger and been Luna of the most powerful pack in the northern hemisphere. But it had all fallen apart.

“I have a plan—”

“You’ve been hanging on Derek King’s coattails for years,” he snapped. “It’s time you secured the bond. Make it official. Marriage. Alliance. Do you know what that would mean for us? No one would dare lay a finger on Eastern Ridge.”

“He’s distracted.” I seethed, thinking of Elena. Always Elena.

“Then distract him back. Do whatever it takes.”

I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly.

“You’re my only child, Cassandra. My only heir. If you can’t secure this alliance… everything we’ve built—everything—will fall.”

“I said I have a plan.”

He didn’t answer. But he didn’t hang up, either.

I stood there in silence, listening to him breathe. Listening to the weight of what he was asking crash down around me.

Derek still looked at Elena like she was the sun.

But if I couldn’t make him look at me the same way, I’d burn her out of his sky myself.

One way or another.