Page 42

SONYA

T he moon was high and full, casting a silver glow across the clearing like a spotlight from the gods.

It bathed the treetops in soft light and turned the lake beside them into a sheet of rippling stars.

Laughter echoed through the forest, not wild or frenzied, but warm.

Honest. Free.

For the first time in decades, the land wasn’t haunted by the scent of blood or the burn of fear.

Peace had finally come.

stood just past the ring of flickering lanterns, her bare feet pressed into cool grass.

The music drifted behind her—strings, drums, the thrum of a dozen different packs learning to celebrate one another.

It’d taken time. Work.

Compromise. But it was happening.

Gods, it was really happening.

She rested a hand on her belly, her fingers splaying across the subtle curve hidden beneath the flowing silk of her ivory dress.

Their child.

Life.

Not born of tradition or politics, not from fear or duty.

But from love. Real, deep, sometimes-messy, always-worth-it love.

“Thought I might find you sneakin’ off,” Landon said behind her, his voice low, teasing.

turned, smiling as he approached—still in the soft gray shirt and worn dark jeans he’d refused to trade for anything fancier.

He looked every bit the king the world had doubted no crown, no armor, but a presence that wrapped around her like firelight.

“I wasn’t sneaking,” she said.

“I just needed a second. To breathe. To remember.”

His eyes swept her face, then her stomach, then back again.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“It’s a lot.”

She chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

“A year ago, we were fighting for our lives. For truth. And now... the packs are dancing together under the moon. Who the hell thought that was possible?”

“You did,” Landon said simply, stepping closer until his hands found her waist, slow and reverent.

“You believed in this before I even knew what it was. You believed in me.”

She leaned into him, resting her forehead against his.

“Only because you made me believe in us.”

They stayed like that a moment—breathing the same air, listening to the sounds of celebration wash over them like a tide.

The fire cracked in the distance.

Wolves howled in play.

Children laughed as they darted between shadows.

Landon’s fingers skimmed hers, lacing them together.

“You ready to join the festivities, Luna?”

The word still made her heart skip.

Not because of the title, but because it came from him.

Because it meant something now.

Not rule. Not subjugation.

But partnership. Power shared equally.

“I’m ready,” she whispered, then added with a grin, “but only if you dance with me. No excuses this time.”

“Even if I step on your feet?”

“Especially then.”

They turned toward the celebration just as a hush fell over the crowd.

The music softened. Faces turned.

And then, one by one, people began to kneel—not out of habit, not out of fear—but out of respect.

The Lycan King and his Luna walked forward hand in hand, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

felt it in her bones—that pull of something ancient.

Not just the prophecy.

Not even the power. But the unity.

A future that wasn’t carved out by dominance or bloodshed, but by love.

By choice.

She met eyes with pack elders, with former rogues who now wore symbols of allegiance, with humans who had begun to quietly observe the world beyond their streets and stores and borders.

And then they fell on her parents.

They were there and had pledged their allegiance to Landon the year before, but now to , they were strangers.

People who were only loyal to law, not blood.

Still, she smiled and nodded at them as they raised their glasses to her.

Things were changing.

Slowly. Carefully. But changing all the same.

Landon lifted their hands together, and the cheers that followed were louder than thunder, brighter than lightning.

They weren’t just survivors anymore.

They were builders. Dreamers.

They were the future.

As the music swelled and the fires burned, tilted her head toward Landon, voice soft against the corner of his mouth.

“Do you think we’re ready? For what’s next?”

He kissed her temple, gentle and sure.

“We’ve already survived the end of the world. Everything else? That’s just the beginning.”

They danced, and the stars danced with them.

Far beyond the glow of the celebration, in a holding cell deep beneath fortified stone, Roman sat in silence.

His eyes, once blazing with fury, now gleamed with something else entirely.

A smirk ghosted across his face.

He wasn’t done.

Not yet.