Adrian’s POV
After a moment, I rose, lifting her gently.
“Come on,” I said, carrying her to the bathroom. The mall shower was cramped, but I didn’t care.
1 <b>turned </b>on the warm water, guiding her under the spray. She leaned into me, her body soft and pliant,
I traced the curve of her shoulder, the dip of her waist, the soft skin of her thighs, cleaning away the evidence of our joining <b>hut </b>savoring the way my scent lingered on her.
She watched me, her gray green eyes soft, a small s
smile ying on her Eps. “You’re thorough,” she teased, her voice boarse.
“I want youfortable,” I said, kissing her forehead. I lingered on her neck, where my scent was strongest<b>, </b>a quiet im that made my chest tighter.
I loved how <b>the </b>smelled of me now, like she belonged to mepletely
Back in bed, I wrapped her in a towel, then pulled her into my arms, drying her hair with gentle strokes. Her skin <b>was </b>warm, h
her body rxed against min and I felt a fierce protectiveness.
This was her first time, and I’d wanted it to be right, <b>to </b>show her how much she meant to me. Her pleasure, her trust–it was everything.
We slipped under the covers<b>, </b>her head resting on my chest. Her breathing slowed, but I sensed a tension in her.
“<b>You </b>nervous?” asked, my voice low.
“A little,” she admitted, her fingers tracing circles on my skin. “The election… it’s so much.”
I tilted her chin, meeting her eyes,
“I’ll win, Skye,” I said, my.
<b>voice </b>firm with conviction. “For <b>Nadia</b>, for the pack, for us. I’ll win, and we’ll build the future we want. Together.”
She <b>nodded</b>, a small smile breaking through. “Together,” the echoed, nestling closer.
I held her, my mate, as sleep pulled us <b>under</b>, her warmth anchoring me. For the first time in month, I felt whole, ready to face whatever came next.
A sharp knock at the door jolted us <b>awake</b>, the sound cutting through the early morning stillness.
“Who is it?” I called, already sliding from the bed, reaching for my discarded jean.
“Its Ryder,” came the reply, muffled <b>through </b>the door. “Is <b>Skye </b>there? <b>I </b><b>came </b>to help with her luggage-
I pulled on my pants and crossed to the door, opening it just enough <b>to </b>see Ryder’s face. His <b>expression </b>shifted from impatience to shock as he registered my state of undress, my scent mingled with Skye’s, and the unmistakable evidence of what had transpired between us.
“<b>Alpha </b>Adrian,<b>” </b>he said, his voice carefully neutral despite the surprise in his eyes. “I <b>was </b>looking for <b>Skye</b>. I came to help her with the luggage for our flight.”
1 nced back <b>at </b>the clock on Skye’s wall. Isn’t it & bit early for that?”
A hint of his old humor flickered across <b>Ryder’s </b><b>Jace</b>. “Alpha, it’s almost eight. You’re usually up by Six”
| ran a hand through my tousled hair, suddenly aware of how this must look. Behind me, I heard Skye moving around, likely getting devised.
<b>“</b><b>Ryder</b>, do you want to join us for breakfast <b>Skye </b>called from inside the apartment, her voice remarkably <bposed</b>. <b>“</b>We can get <b>the </b>lumen that we
<b>Ryder </b>shook his head, taking a step back. No need. I’ll go get Lydia <b>and </b>meet you at the airfield, <b>He </b><b>turned </b>to trave, but I <b>prochét </b>gy
“Ryder, about Skye and me. I began, unsure how in exin to this young wolf who had once openlypeted for her attention.
To my surprise, he didn’t tract with jealousy of anger.
I understand, Alpha,” he said quietly. Some things aren’t meant to he fuced. I think I always knew she belonged with you. Right now, I <b>just </b>want to forut on making you Alpha King. That’s what matters most.”
I watched him <b>walk </b>away, struck by his growth. The boy who had once challenged me an brazenly |
had be a man I could truly rely on.<fna6c3> The source of th?s content is FindN()vel</fna6c3>
Two hours of driving and a three–hour flightter, aived at Silvercrest Mountain in southeastern Wisconsin–the ancient, neutral territory where werewolves had conducted Alpha King elections for centuries.
This sacred location had been chosen by the earliest North American packs precisely because of the area’s powerful connection to wolf spints.
<b>The </b>
e mountain itself was a <b>majestic </b>sight, tising above a sprawling forest <b>like </b><b>a </b>sentinel watching over the werewolf world.
Snow capped <b>its </b><b>peaks </b>despite the rtively wild November weather, and the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lodge–style buildings that had
<b>been </b><b>constructed </b>at its <b>base</b>.
The election grounds consisted of several structures–a central arena where physical challenges would take ce, a grand hall for political debates and ceremonies, and several smaller <b>buildings </b>for amodations and meetinic.
It was nearly <b>six </b>in the evening when our group reached the Silver Moon <b>Lodge</b><b>, </b><b>a </b>centuries–old establishment built exclusively for werewolves.
Winter darkness had already descended, the forest around us ck and imprable beyond the lights of theplex.
After the long journey, all any of us wanted was to check into our pre–booked rooms and rest before tomorrow’s opening ceremonies.
“Reservation for Oasisbom Park,” I told the young woman at the front desk, sliding my identification across the polished wooden counter.
<b>She </b>tapped at herputer, a frown creasing her forehead. Im sorry, Mr. Crawford, but it seems your reservation was canceled<b>.</b><b>” </b>
“Canceled?” Skye stepped forward<b>, </b>confusion in her voice. There must be <b>some mistake</b>. We <b>confirmed </b>just <bst </b>werk.”
The clerk’s expression <b>grew </b>apologetic. “I tried calling you yesterday evening. Ms. Anderson. Three calls, actually, to inform you about the situation, but there was no answer.”
Skye and I exchanged nces, a flush rising to her cheeks as we both remembered exactly why she hadn’t answered her phonest night. My hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Regardless,” I <b>said</b>, my voice taking on the edge of authority I used as Alpha, “you can’t simply cancel a confirmed reservation without <b>our </b><b>approval</b>.”
“I understand your frustration, sir, the clerk replied, her professional demence never slipping. <b>I </b>sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. We fully refunded your deposit <bst </b>night when we couldn’t <b>reach </b>you.”
Lydia moved forward, her masked <b>face </b>revealing nothing of her thoughts. Perhaps there are rooms ablewhere?”
The clerk shouk het head. ‘I’m afraid nut. Someone lus reserved the entire hotel for the duration of the election.”
“The entire hotel Skye repeated, <b>incredulous</b>. “Who <b>would </b><b>do </b><b>that</b>?”
“I’m not at liberty to share that information, the clerk said, though her eyes <b>darted </b>nervously to the left.
I followed her gear <b>and </b>feh my blood run cold
I followed her <b>gaze</b>, my attention immediately sharpening. Through the grand intrance <b>doors</b><b>, </b>a group of werewolver was making their way into the lobby- at least ten alming, <b>all </b>impably dressed in tailored suits and evening <b>wear</b>.
Their leader walked with the unmistakable confidence of an Alpha, surrounded by attentive Beins and warrines who moved in perfect formation around him.