Joseph's POV
I'm not proud of it, but I haven't slept a second.
I've spent the entire damn night pacing like a lunatic. From my room to the hallway outside hers and back again. Over and over. Like a wolf sniffing the edge of his cage, waiting for someone to unlock the door.
The problem is, I don't want someone to unlock it.
I want to break it.
I want to kick it open, storm into that room, and pull Andrea into my arms like my life depends on it—because, in some twisted way, it feels like it does.
This is torture. Actual, physical, mental, emotional torture.
Being near her and not being able to touch her. Being close enough to hear her soft breathing and not be able to mark her. Not until she's ready. Not until she understands what she means to us.
To me.
I thought I could handle this. I've handled worse—wars, bloodshed, betrayal. Hell, I've had more than enough lovers to take the edge off when things got too intense.
But Andrea?
She burns through all of that. Nothing works. Nothing dulls it.
Ashley used to be my perfect distraction. Beautiful, confident, always willing. But now I look at her and feel... nothing. Not even guilt. It's like my wolf has turned blind to every woman but Andrea.
Her scent haunts me. That sweet, powerful mix of something ancient and untamed. It clings to my skin, even when she's not in the room. Every inhale is a reminder that she's ours. Mine.
And still, we wait.
We wait because Lionel says we must. Because Matthew says it's too dangerous to rush her. Because the bond hasn't fully settled and her body isn't ready.
But how do you wait when your soul is already tied to someone? How do you pretend you're fine when every nerve in your body screams for her?
I lean against the wall across from her door, staring at the grain in the wood like it holds answers. I know she's sleeping. I can feel the faint hum of her energy through the bond. It pulses in time with my heartbeat, teasing, pulling, claiming me even before I can claim her.
When she flinched earlier, when we told her she was our mate, my wolf wanted to tear something apart, not out of anger, but out of desperation.
She doesn't believe she's worthy.
And that, more than anything, makes me ache. I want to show her. Prove to her. Make her feel what she means to us. But I can't. Not yet. So I do what I can.
I stay close. I keep watch. I don't let anyone near her door.
Especially not Mother.
I already know what she's capable of, and if she tries anything again, she'll see just how much the playful brother has changed. Because this hunger inside me—it's not just about desire anymore.
It's about destiny. And I won't let anyone steal her from us.
Not again.
Matthew's POV
I've always been the calm one. The one who thinks before acting. Who reads the room, watches the angles, calculates the consequences before taking the leap. But ever since Andrea walked into our lives—no, since the moment we found her—that balance has been shifting.
And tonight? Tonight, I realized something I'm not sure I can ignore much longer.
I'm losing control. Not like Joseph, who's practically vibrating with the need to touch her. Not like Lionel, who hides it behind duty and strategy.
No, mine is quieter. Slower. It burns under the surface like coals—not fire, not yet, but dangerous enough if left unchecked.
I've been sitting at the far end of the hall for hours, pretending to read the reports James left behind before he went off on his assignment. I've barely turned a page. My eyes keep drifting to her door. Closed. Silent. But behind it... I feel her.
Even without the bond fully sealed, she's in my blood now. I can sense her heartbeat. The way her breath rises and falls in sleep. I can feel her confusion, her fear, even the flickers of curiosity when she thinks no one's watching.
She's piecing it all together, slowly. But she doesn't understand what she is. Or what she's about to become.
And still, the moon chose her. Not a pureblood. Not a warrior's daughter. Not a royal from a high pack. But her.
Andrea. The girl with haunted eyes and a voice that's still finding its strength.
She doesn't even know her own power—and yet, she's already upended our lives. Changed everything we thought we knew about fate. About the mate bond.
And now… we wait. We wait because her body is too weak to bear the mark. We wait because we want her to choose us, not feel forced. We wait because our mother is watching like a wolf on the edge of a cliff, waiting for her moment to strike.
And I don't trust her. Not anymore.
I lean back against the stone pillar, glancing down the corridor to where Lionel stands speaking with one of the guards, and where Joseph still prowls like a caged beast.
We're all unraveling in our own ways. But she—Andrea—she's holding us together without even realizing it. I know what's coming.
The moment she accepts us, the bond will seal. The power in her blood will awaken. And everything will shift. She'll stop being "the girl from the woods."
And become what she was always meant to be. Our Luna. Our equal. Our queen.
But until then, I'll wait. Because I want the fire, yes. But more than that? I want her to want us back.