Keira
“Just remember to smile and let me do the talking,” Gavin murmured as we stepped out of the carriage. “These summits are all about posturing. The other Alphas need to see a united front.”
“I am aware of how they work, Gavin,” I said, smoothing the front of my dark blue dress. It was elegant and severe, nothing like the soft pastels I had worn in my first life.
“Of course you are,” he said with a condescending pat on my arm. “You’re perfect. Just be my perfect Luna. That’s all you need to do.”
I gave him a placid smile and said nothing. We walked into the great hall of the Blackwater Pack’s lodge. The air was thick with the scent of old wood, roasting meat, and the aggressive power of two dozen Alphas in one room. It was a testosterone-fueled sea of dominance, and in my past life, it had terrified me.
Now, it felt like a room full of opportunities. Opportunities to weaken my husband.
“Gavin, good to see you,” a booming voice called out. Alpha Marcus of the Red Creek Pack approached us, a mug of ale in his hand. His eyes flickered to me.
“Marcus,” Gavin greeted him, slapping him on the back. “How’s that new lumber contract treating you?”
Marcus grunted. “It’s treating my pack’s treasury poorly, that’s for sure. Your Luna is a shark in silk gloves, my friend.”
Gavin’s smile tightened. He had been furious about the new terms I’d negotiated, but he couldn’t argue with the profit margins.
“Keira has a fine head for numbers,” Gavin said, trying to take ownership of my success.
“I simply believe a deal should be equitable for both parties,” I said, my voice clear and calm. “And the previous terms were not equitable for Silver Moon. I’m glad we could find a new arrangement that benefits us appropriately, Alpha Marcus.”
Marcus’s eyes widened slightly. Lunas did not speak of pack business at these events. They smiled. They were ornaments.
“Indeed,” he said, a newfound respect in his tone. He nodded at me. “Luna.”
He moved on, and Gavin turned to me, his voice a low hiss. “What was that? You made me look like I’m not in control of my own pack’s negotiations.”
“You are in control,” I replied smoothly. “So much so that you can delegate such tedious matters to your wife. It shows you have a capable partner, allowing you to focus on the more important issues of warrior strength and border security.”
I had framed it in a way his ego could accept. He grumbled but let it drop as another Alpha approached.
I spent the next hour observing. I watched the alliances shift and sway with every conversation. I noted which Alphas were strong, which were weak, and which were looking for a change in leadership.
Then the air in the room changed. A hush fell over the boisterous crowd. The Alphas, men who bowed to no one, straightened their backs and lowered their voices.
I turned toward the entrance. He stood there as if he owned the very stone beneath his feet. He was taller than any werewolf I had ever seen, broad-shouldered and dressed in the severe black uniform of the Lycan royal guard. General Nolan.
He was the Lycan King’s personal enforcer. A creature of pure, undiluted power. Whispers said his wolf was as large as a grizzly, and that he had single-handedly torn down a rogue Alpha’s fortress.
He had not attended this summit in my first life. His presence here was a new variable. A dangerous one.
His eyes, the color of a stormy sky, swept the room with an unnerving intensity. They assessed every Alpha, dismissed them, and moved on. He was a predator, and we were all just lesser creatures in his hunting ground.
Then his gaze met mine.
The world stopped. It was not a spark. It was a lightning strike. A cataclysmic jolt shot through me, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. Every nerve ending screamed. My blood felt like it was boiling in my veins. My wolf, a creature I had kept so tightly leashed, howled within me, a desperate, joyous, agonizing sound.
*Mate.*
The word was not a thought. It was a truth, branded onto my soul in an instant of searing agony and ecstasy. This terrifying man, this harbinger of death, was my other half.
For a single, fatal second, my composure threatened to crack. My breath hitched. My carefully constructed mask of ice began to melt under the sheer heat of the recognition.
Then I remembered the cold. The snow. The blood. The promise I made to myself.
With a will I didn't know I possessed, I slammed a wall of ice down over the bond. I smothered the howling of my wolf. I forced my heart rate back to a steady rhythm. I became a fortress of perfect, unfeeling calm.
I held his gaze, and I gave him nothing.
Nolan’s expression, which had been one of cold indifference, shifted. A flicker of something primal and questioning entered his eyes. He had felt it too. I knew he had. But my reaction, my utter suppression of the most powerful force in our world, was not what he expected.
He started moving. Not toward the Alpha hosting the summit, but directly toward us. Each step was deliberate, silent, a predator closing in. The Alphas parted before him like minnows fleeing a pike.
Gavin, oblivious, saw only the approaching danger. He puffed out his chest and put a proprietary hand on my waist.
“General,” Gavin said, his voice straining to sound casual. “This is an unexpected honor.”
Nolan’s eyes did not leave my face. “Alpha Gavin.” His voice was a low rumble, like rocks grinding together. It vibrated through the floor, straight into my bones. “And your Luna.”
“This is my wife, Keira,” Gavin said proudly.
“I know who she is,” Nolan said. The words were simple, yet they held a world of meaning that only he and I understood. He took my hand, his touch sending another series of shocks up my arm. He did not kiss it, as tradition dictated. He simply held it, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, testing my pulse.
“Luna Keira,” he said, his storm-gray eyes boring into mine. “You are not what I expected.”
“Few things in life are, General,” I replied. My voice was a marvel of engineering, perfectly steady, perfectly cool.
His lips quirked in a smile that was not a smile at all. It was a baring of teeth. “Indeed.” He smelled of pine and winter and something else, something uniquely his. Something that called to the very marrow of my bones.
“What brings you to a regional summit?” Gavin asked, his hand tightening on my waist. He was trying to assert his claim.
Nolan released my hand, but his gaze remained locked on me. “The King is concerned about instability in the northern territories. I am his eyes. I am here to observe.”
“All is stable in the Silver Moon pack,” Gavin declared, a little too loudly.
“Is it?” Nolan asked softly, a dangerous silkiness to his tone. His eyes roamed over my face, searching for the cracks I refused to show him. “Stability is a fragile thing. It requires a strong foundation.”
He knew. He did not know how he knew, but he knew something was wrong. His instincts were honed to a razor’s edge.
“Our foundation is solid,” I said, meeting his challenge head-on. “Alpha Gavin leads with strength, and I support him with diligence. We are a model of stability.”
For the first time, his cold expression was touched by genuine intrigue. He was fascinated by me. By the Luna who smelled of winter and steel, the Luna who looked her fated mate in the eye and lied with the placidity of a frozen lake.
“We shall see,” he murmured. He gave me a final, lingering look, a look that promised he would uncover every one of my secrets. Then he nodded curtly to Gavin.
“Alpha.”
And with that, he moved on, leaving a trail of silent awe and fear in his wake.
Gavin let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he was holding. “Intense bastard, isn’t he? I don’t like him looking at you like that.”
I turned my back to the room, pretending to study a tapestry on the wall, giving myself a moment to shore up my defenses. My heart was a wild bird beating against the cage of my ribs.
“He is the Lycan General,” I said, my voice still impossibly calm. “He looks at everyone as if they are a potential threat. It means nothing.”
But I knew it was a lie. It meant everything.
My path to vengeance had just become infinitely more complicated. And infinitely more dangerous.
