Narrator's POV The night was shrouded in a blanket of darkness, broken only by the dimly flickering campfire around which the pack members had gathered. Their conversations were filled with the warmth of camaraderie and laughter. The world outside seemed to fade away as the flickering flames danced in their eyes. Then, like a lightning bolt from the sky, a young wolf's voice pierced through the night, her eyes wide with fear. "Run! Run, everyone!" Her voice carried a terror that cut through the jovial atmosphere like a blade. Panic cascaded through the pack, her warning reverberating through the trees. Corrigan, who had been engaged in conversation with some pack members, found her heart leaping into her throat. The pack's once cheerful gathering turned into a sea of chaos. The young wolf who had cried out was breathless, her fur standing on end with anxiety. In a matter of seconds, the harmonious gathering dissolved into frantic disarray. The pack members, their fur bristling with anxiety, grappled with the dire urgency in the air. It was as if a thunderstorm had materialized from nowhere, and they were left scrambling for shelter. "Rogue wolves, they've invaded our territory!" the young wolf cried out, her voice tremulous. "They're attacking anyone who tries to stop them!" The realization was like a cold slap to the face. The rogue wolves, those who resisted Lucien's rule, had multiplied in number and had grown bolder. They had one clear intention: to challenge Lucien's leadership and were ready to spill blood to achieve their goal. For Corrigan, a sinking feeling gnawed at her chest. She was aware of the growing rift between Lucien's pack and the rogue wolves, but the suddenness of the attack caught everyone off guard. Panic spread like wildfire among the pack, a sense of vulnerability they hadn't felt in a long time. As the females gathered their pups protectively, the males, driven by a potent mix of fear and determination, began to prepare to defend their families. The campfire that had served as the center of their joy was now a fading memory as they steeled themselves for the battle to come. It was a war, a war they hadn't foreseen and certainly hadn't prepared for. In the midst of the turmoil, a courageous pack member broke through the chaos, making a beeline for Alpha Lucien's den. It was crucial to inform their leader of the dire situation that had suddenly engulfed them. The pack member dashed toward Lucien's den, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached. Lucien's scent grew stronger with every stride. Bursting into the den, he found Lucien in his wolf form, his silver-gray coat glistening in the dim moonlight that filtered through the entrance. "Alpha Lucien," he panted, his voice trembling with urgency, "rogue wolves have breached our territory. They're attacking, and the situation is dire." Lucien's eyes snapped open, a flash of alertness and authority replacing his tranquil slumber. Without hesitation, he rose to his feet, his massive form radiating strength and authority. The safety of his pack was his ultimate responsibility. "Prepare the pack," Lucien commanded with unwavering authority. "We will defend our territory." The pack member nodded, his fear mingling with a sense of relief, and he turned to rush back out of the den, knowing that Lucien's leadership was their best chance in this dire hour. The pack members gathered swiftly, a palpable sense of urgency driving them. Each wolf knew that a fierce battle loomed on the horizon, and their resolve to protect their home and their alpha was unwavering. Amid the hurried preparations and the growing tension, Corrigan stood, anxiety and concern etched across her features. She had been waiting for Lucien to return from the den. The fear that clenched her heart was paralyzing, but she knew that her place was not in the midst of the impending battle. Lucien re-entered the den, his imposing wolf form shifting back to his human self. His presence sent ripples of both relief and trepidation through the room. Corrigan, too, was hidden away, safely tucked in her designated hiding spot, just as Lucien had instructed. She watched the unfolding chaos with wide, anxious eyes. His concern for her safety was a surprise, and her heart swelled with mixed emotions. As Lucien prepared to leave the den, the urgency of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders. His determination was evident as he spoke, "Stay here, Corrigan. You'll be safe in this spot. Don't come out until I return." Corrigan nodded, her voice conveying her worry even though Lucien couldn't see her. "I'll wait for you, Lucien. Please, be safe." With that, Lucien transformed into his powerful wolf form and bounded out of the den, leaving Corrigan with nothing but her racing thoughts. The sounds of the battle, the growls and clashes, began to grow louder. The tension in the den was suffocating, and Corrigan couldn't help but wring her hands anxiously. Time seemed to warp, with each minute stretching endlessly as Corrigan remained hidden in her spot. Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt an unbearable sense of helplessness. She whispered to herself, "Please, Lucien, come back safely. We need you." Finally, the noises from outside started to die down, and a heavy silence settled over the den. Corrigan strained to hear any signs of the battle's outcome. She held her breath, unable to quell the racing of her heart. She longed for the triumphant howl that would signify Lucien's victory. Then, like a beacon of hope, it came-a triumphant howl, echoing through the forest. Corrigan recognized the familiar voice, her heart leaping with relief. Lucien had emerged victorious. The den erupted with cheers and jubilation, as the pack members rejoiced in their leader's triumph. Corrigan emerged from her hiding spot, her eyes locking with Lucien's, her face reflecting the mix of relief and admiration she felt. Lucien, though weary from the battle, carried himself with a sense of accomplishment and pride. Corrigan couldn't contain her joy as she approached him. "Lucien, you did it! You protected the pack," she exclaimed, her voice filled with admiration and genuine pride. Lucien nodded, his humble smile a testament to his gratitude for the support of his pack. The victory, while hard-fought, had brought them closer together, reaffirming their unity. Corrigan realized that the bond between her and Lucien had grown even stronger, tested and forged in the heat of adversity. As she looked into his eyes, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of respect and admiration for the alpha who had faced down the rogue wolves to protect his pack. Despite the celebration that was beginning to envelop the den, Lucien's weariness became more evident. He needed rest and recuperation to prepare for the challenges that lay ahead. The battle might be won, but the war was far from over.

Corrigan's POV Three years earlier I lay on a sofa in the library, hidden behind the shelves, and reading the same line of Anna Karenina again and again, too excited to go further. I was curled up on the sofa, watching the last rays of the afternoon sun drifting in through the window. Excitedly, I brushed my fingers against the ring on my neck and a giggle escaped my lips. I forced myself to stamp it down. It was soon. Lucien and I would be together truly soon enough. I shut my eyes and curled up tighter, trying to calm the butterflies in my belly. Thoughts of Lucien filled my head and I didn't want to drown them out, I savored them. I didn't realize I had drifted off to sleep till I heard it. A blood-curdling scream. My eyes shot open immediately, and my heart rate tripled. I got up from the sofa silently, careful not to make any noise. I walked to a shelf, pressing back against it. My fingers gritted the book I held nervously till my fingers turned white. Hidden by the shelf, I looked into the main area of the library and my breath hitched in my throat. I could see three Persian carpets turning red. They had been gray. They were soaking up the blood, but unable to keep it from spreading in the carpet. In the pool of blood, Anneliese was lying, a deep, gory gash marrying her perfect features. She was face down on the floor, her hair creating a sort of curtain over her. Her arms were spread wide and her legs were only slightly spread. Panic filled me and I struggled to think. I had to call somebody. There was a murderer in the pack house. He could still be in here with me. I thought of what would happen if Anneliese's killer was still in here. If he came after me and I wasn't able to defend myself. I would be dead, too. I took a deep breath. Nobody else seemed to be in the library. I could make it out the door in time to warn everyone. Maybe Dante wanted to know about the death of his mate. Tentatively, I took a step forward, wincing when I was pulled backward by my hair into a warm body. A palm covered my mouth, muffling my screams. I went into panic mode, sinking my teeth into my attacker's palm. I was wild with adrenaline. I could feel Crystal's agitation and I knew I was seconds away from shifting. My struggles intensified and my eyes dilated. I could feel fur breaking out of the surface of my skin. The palm that covered my mouth moved to my neck, squeezing till I raked my nails down the back of his hand, gasping for air. A pungent, bitter liquid splashed into my mouth and I gasped as it ran down my throat. I knew the effects of wolfsbane. The immediate weakness, loss of consciousness, the feeling of not being able to shift. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, face forward. The last thing I saw before the world blacked out was Dante's face, smirking down at me. I woke up in my room, slightly disoriented. I still felt weak and my brain was still fuzzy. I smiled, relief flooding me as I stared up at the ceiling. It was just a dream. "Finally, the sleeping beauty wakes up." I hear Dante drawl and I sit up sharply, almost falling off the bed in the process. My eyes are still a bit cloudy and my head hurts so I wince and hold my skull. Dante was standing at the foot of the bed. He had changed out of the clothes he had been wearing earlier. He seemed so calm. So detached like he hadn't just killed his wife so cold-bloodedly. I remember the sight of Anneliese's body in blood and I shudder. "You're sick." I spat, feeling disgusted. He smiled humorlessly. "And you're getting your fire back." "How could you? You killed the Luna." Dante studied his nails. "Nothing so dramatic." He said lightly. "I merely removed a person who was of no use to me anymore, that's all." With that, he shrugged and began walking around the bed. My eyes followed him warily as he sat near me on the bed. I forced myself not to move away. I wouldn't give him the pleasure of scaring me. He took my hand and I snatched it back. He looked at me and gave an exasperated sigh. "However, there's the topic of what to do with you, darling. You see, you saw something that you weren't supposed to see and I would hate to harm you, but..." He said, his voice trailing off pointedly. "I suppose this is the part where I'm supposed to fall on my face and beg you to spare my life. And promise you that I won't say anything to anyone." He shook his head. "No. That won't be necessary. You won't need to do any of that because I thought of everything perfectly while you were sleeping. Corrigan, your appearance on the murder scene was the best thing that could happen." I stared at him, my mind whirring. What could someone so sick be thinking? "You see, Corrigan, the seal of the Black Crest pack's beta was lying so close to the body of its Luna." He had a false rueful expression on his face and my eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening my father's life?" I asked, my voice low. His eyes widened with mock shock. "What? Corrigan, come on, your father is my most trustworthy advisor. All I'm saying is people-other people, the police, per se-won't believe that he hadn't killed the Luna if they see such evidence against him. So you catch my drift?" I shot up, leaning menacingly over Dante. "If you even think of framing my father, I will pin you to the wall." "I just love it when you let all that fire in your hair come out as rage." He said. "However, I'll have no reason to-as you so beautifully put it-frame your father if you follow a few instructions of mine. First of all, you will never, not even to yourself, tell what you just saw. Second, you will call tonight's little announcement off. There will be no mating ceremony between you and Lucien." I stepped back, confused. "Lucien and I have nothing to do with all this. Keep him out of it." He stood too, walking forward. "You see, darling, he does. In this scenario, I will be forced to trade one's freedom for the other. So in this case, it's your father, or..." "Or Lucien." I completed automatically, defeated. Dante smiled. "You learn so quickly. That's one of the things I love most about you." "What did Lucien ever do to you?" I whisper, trying to think something up. My head was painfully blank. Dante had all the buttons, and he was pushing them with ease. "Let's just say, this is me trying to stop the possibility of future conflict and it's all your decision. Either your father is killed for murdering my sweet, innocent mate, or Lucien is exiled out of the pack for the murder." He made it sound so logical and sane. It would have sounded that way if I hadn't been sure that he was insane and sick in the head. All he wanted was to eliminate the strongest warrior, Lucien, to avoid Lucien winning the pack by conquest "So who would it be? The father who has raised you all your life and taken care of all your needs, dying because you chose the mate you've known for all of what, two, three days?" I lifted my chin. "Or I could just tell everyone what sort of an asshole you are." He chuckled, moving to the door. "And who would they believe? The alpha of the clan, or the daughter-or mate-of the accused?" He gave a rueful look. "Thought so too." "Besides," Dante continued. "if you decide to pick your father, Lucien stays alive. Just exiled. But if you pick Lucien, who's to say someone else won't be brutally murdered?" With that, he banged the door shut. It was expertly executed. Everyone assembled at the pack house for the announcement of Anneliese's murder. Dante played the role of grieving mate, sitting with his face buried in his palms, muttering incoherently. I could see the looks of pity and sympathy on different faces. If only they knew, I thought. I trembled too, but for totally different reasons. Soon, I would be forced to turn Lucien in for a crime he didn't commit to save my father's life. I looked around. Lucien was on the other end of the room, talking to Lorna. "Everyone," Dante said as he walked to the center of the room. He had the perfect voice. A mix of firmness and fragility. The ultimate drama queen. "The luna of the pack, my mate..." His voice shook. "Anneliese. She's dead." Whispers and talk filled the room. Sounds of disbelief, shock, and surprise, some of fear. "However, I have vowed not to let my eyes close in sleep till the murderer had been punished for taking such an innocent and beautiful person away. We have found a link to the murderer, a warrior's ring lying close to the body, probably taken off while my mate tried to defend herself." My eyes widened. Slowly, my fingers crept up my neck and I realized that Lucien's ring was missing. Dante must have taken it away while I was unconscious. My eyes shot to Dante's on the other side of the room. They seemed to say, "Now. Do it now." Fighting back tears, I speak up. "The ring belongs to Lucien Blackthorn. My...mate." I could feel Lucien's gaze on me, burning holes into my back. I heard gasps of shock and surprise. I swallow, refusing to turn, and look at Lucien. "And I cannot be mates with a cold..." my voice broke off with emotion. "a cold-blooded murderer." "I, Corrigan Price, hereby reject you, Lucien Blackthorn as my mate."