He stood in my doorway, dripping wet, holding two coffees like a peace offering.
I hadn't seen him this close in five years. The hospital room didn't count—that was professional. Clinical. This was different. This was my space. My safe place. And he was in it.
"Are you going to come in or just stand there?" I asked.
He stepped inside. Water dripped from his hair onto my hardwood floor. He looked around—at the white walls, the minimal furniture, the complete lack of personal touches.
"You live like this?" he asked.
"I live like someone who works eighty hours a week and doesn't have time for decorating."
He nodded. Didn't comment on the obvious lie. Didn't point out that this apartment looked like a hotel room. Like someone was waiting to leave.
I took one of the coffees. Sat on the couch. He remained standing, unsure.
"Sit down, Alexander. You're making me nervous."
He sat on the opposite end of the couch. Far enough to be polite. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his wet clothes.
We drank coffee in silence for a minute.
Then I put my cup down. "Explain it to me. All of it. From the beginning. And don't leave anything out."
He set his cup beside mine. Turned to face me. His knee was inches from mine.
"My real name is Alexander Pierce. I'm thirty-five years old. I'm the CEO of Pierce Technologies. And I'm the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack."
"Alpha," I repeated. "Like... a wolf pack?"
"Like a werewolf pack."
I waited for him to laugh. To say he was joking. He didn't.
"You're telling me you're a werewolf."
"Yes."
"And you expect me to believe that."
He reached out. Took my hand. His skin was warm—hot, actually, despite being soaking wet.
"Feel that?" he asked.
My pulse jumped under his touch. It was always like this with him. Electricity. Fire. Like my body recognized him even when my brain didn't.
"That's the mate bond," he said. "It's a supernatural connection between fated partners. You're my mate, Alana. You always were. From the moment I saw you."
I pulled my hand back. "That's not proof. That's just... chemistry."
He nodded. Stood. Walked to the center of my living room.
"What I'm about to show you will scare you. But I need you to stay calm. Can you do that?"
I gripped the couch cushion. "What are you going to do?"
"Show you what I am."
He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.
And then he changed.
It started with his eyes. They glowed—actually glowed—golden and bright. Then his body convulsed. Bones shifted under his skin. His face elongated. Fur sprouted from his pores. His clothes ripped as his body expanded.
In ten seconds, Alexander Pierce was gone.
In his place stood a wolf.
A massive wolf. Black fur. Golden eyes. It stood as tall as my kitchen counter, muscles rippling under its coat. It looked at me. Whined. Took a step forward.
I screamed.
I couldn't help it. I scrambled backward off the couch, hit the wall, pressed myself against it. My heart was going to explode. My brain was short-circuiting.
The wolf stopped. Looked at me with those golden eyes—Alexander's eyes. Then it shook itself, and the change reversed.
Bones reforming. Fur retracting. Body shrinking.
Alexander stood there, naked, breathing hard. His clothes were shredded on my floor.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know how else to make you believe me."
I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't think.
He grabbed a blanket from the back of my couch—the only soft thing in my apartment—and wrapped it around himself.
"Alana. Please. Say something."
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
Then I laughed.
It started as a giggle. Then a chuckle. Then full-blown, hysterical laughter that bent me over and left me gasping.
My neighbor banged on the wall. "Keep it down!"
I laughed harder.
Alexander watched me, confused. Worried.
"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I'm just... you're a werewolf. My ex-husband is a werewolf. This is... this is insane."
"I know."
I slid down the wall. Sat on the floor. He sat across from me, wrapped in my ugly gray blanket.
"Werewolves are real," I said.
"Yes."
"Packs are real."
"Yes."
"The mate bond is real."
"Yes."
I looked at him. "And I'm one of you?"
His expression shifted. Careful. "You're a dormant werewolf. You were born with the gene, but you've never shifted. The miscarriage... it might have triggered something. Your wolf might be waking up."
I touched my abdomen. The scar where my womb had been removed.
"Is that why Marcus poisoned me? Because of what I am?"
"Yes. And because you were my mate. He knew you'd make me stronger. He couldn't allow that."
I processed this. A man had murdered my baby because of politics. Because of power. Because I was a threat to him.
"I'm going to kill him," I said.
Alexander's eyes met mine. "I know. That's why I'm here."
---
We talked for hours.
He told me about the pack hierarchy. About Alphas and Betas and Gammas. About the laws they lived by. About the hunters who wanted them dead.
He told me about Marcus.
Marcus wasn't his real father. Alexander's real father, Thomas, had been Alpha before him. Marcus killed him—poisoned him slowly over months—and then married Alexander's mother, Elena, to take control of the pack.
"She knew," Alexander said. "My mother knew what he did. But she couldn't prove it. And by the time she had evidence, she was already dying."
"Elena," I said. The elegant woman from the café. "She has cancer."
"Yes. Months left. Maybe less." His voice cracked. "She wants to meet you again. Properly. Before she goes."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"And Derek?" I asked. "Your brother?"
"Half-brother. Marcus's son. But Derek is nothing like him. He's gentle. Kind. He was the one who found you after the miscarriage. He stayed with you the whole time."
I remembered. Vaguely. A face through the haze of pain and blood. Someone holding my hand. Crying.
"That was Derek?"
Alexander nodded. "He's been in love with you since then. Not in a creepy way—he'd never act on it. But he admires you. He wants to help us."
I thought about this. A man who'd held me while I lost our baby. A man who'd loved me from afar for five years. A man willing to help his brother trap his own father.
"What's the plan?" I asked.
Alexander leaned forward. "We do the IVF. We make it look like you're carrying Derek's child. During the procedure, we switch his sample with mine. The baby will be ours."
"And Marcus?"
"While you're pregnant, he'll be distracted. Obsessed with the prophecy. That's when we gather evidence. Prove he killed my father. Prove he poisoned you. Prove everything. Then we take it to the pack elders. They'll strip him of his rank. And then..." He trailed off.
"And then?"
"And then I'll kill him. Legally. In a challenge. And no one will stop me."
I looked at him. At this man who'd left me to save me. Who'd spent five years avenging our child. Who was offering me a chance at justice.
"What if I get pregnant and something goes wrong?" I asked. "What if Marcus finds out? What if—"
"I won't let anything happen to you." He moved closer. Took my hands. "I swear on my father's soul. On our baby's memory. I will die before I let Marcus touch you again."
I believed him.
That was the terrifying part.
"I need time," I said. "To think about it."
"Take all the time you need."
"And I need to meet Elena. And Derek. And I need to see this pack of yours."
He nodded. "Tomorrow. I'll take you tomorrow."
I pulled my hands away. Stood. Walked to the door.
"You should go. It's late."
He stood. The blanket slipped. He grabbed it quickly. Almost smiled.
"Same Alana. Always in control."
"Someone has to be."
He walked to the door. Paused. Looked back.
"Thank you for listening. For not calling the cops. For giving me a chance."
"Don't thank me yet. I haven't agreed to anything."
"I know. But you're thinking about it. That's more than I hoped for."
He opened the door. Stepped into the hallway.
"Alexander."
He turned.
"If this is real—if all of this is real—then I want to know something."
"Anything."
"Why now? Why not five years ago? Why not before the miscarriage?"
His face twisted. Pain. Guilt. Regret.
"Because I was a coward. Because I thought leaving would save you. Because I didn't trust you to be strong enough to handle the truth." He met my eyes. "I was wrong. About everything. You're the strongest person I know. You always were."
He left.
I locked the door. Leaned against it. Closed my eyes.
My ex-husband was a werewolf. His stepfather murdered our baby. And he wanted me to carry a child to trap a killer.
I should run. I should call Vivian and tell her everything and let her talk sense into me.
Instead, I walked to my bedroom. Opened the drawer. Pulled out our wedding photo.
Alexander laughing. Me laughing. The sun setting behind us.
Five years ago, I thought that was my happy ending.
Turns out, it was just the beginning.
---
I dreamed that night.
Not the nightmare—not the blood and the screaming and the tiny, still body. Something else.
I was running through a forest. Trees blurred past me. The wind was cold on my face. I felt... free. Powerful. Alive.
I looked down.
I had paws. Fur. I was a wolf.
A grey wolf, with eyes like storm clouds.
I ran faster. Jumped over a stream. Chased a deer just for the joy of it. Howled at the moon.
Then another wolf appeared. Black fur. Golden eyes.
Alexander.
He ran beside me. We ran together for what felt like hours. Through valleys. Over mountains. Under the stars.
Finally, we stopped on a peak. The highest point. We could see everything—the forest, the city, the ocean beyond.
Alexander shifted. Stood beside me as a man.
"This is Raven's Peak," he said. "Sacred ground. Where mates come to宣誓."
"To what?"
"宣誓. It's an old word. It means to pledge. To vow. Mates come here to promise themselves to each other. Forever."
I shifted too. Stood beside him. Human.
"Is that what we're doing?" I asked.
"I don't know. What do you want to do?"
I looked at him. At this man who'd broken me. Who'd saved me. Who'd left me. Who'd come back.
"I want to stop running," I said. "From you. From the truth. From myself."
He took my hand.
And then I woke up.
My alarm was blaring. Sunlight streamed through the window. I was in my bed, in my apartment, alone.
But my hands—my human hands—were covered in dirt.
Like I'd been running through a forest all night.
I stared at them for a long time.
Then I picked up my phone. Texted Alexander.
*"Pick me up at 10. I want to meet your pack."*
His reply came instantly.
*"I'll be there."*
---
At 9:55, I was waiting outside my building.
A black SUV pulled up. Alexander got out. Opened the passenger door for me.
"Nervous?" he asked.
"Terrified."
"Good. That means you're smart."
I got in. He closed the door. Got in the driver's side.
We drove. Out of the city. Into the mountains. Past signs that said PRIVATE PROPERTY and NO TRESPASSING.
"This is pack territory," he said. "Ten thousand acres. We own it all through shell companies."
"How many of you are there?"
"About two hundred in this pack. Spread across the territory. Some live in the main mansion. Others have their own houses. We're not savages."
I almost laughed. "You turn into wolves. That's pretty savage."
He glanced at me. Almost smiled. "You get used to it."
We drove for another hour. The road narrowed. Trees pressed in on both sides. Finally, we reached a gate—massive iron bars with a wolf's head in the center.
Two men stood guard. They nodded at Alexander. The gate opened.
We drove through.
And there it was. The pack mansion.
Victorian. Stone. Four stories. Turrets and gables and ivy climbing the walls. It looked like something from a Gothic novel—beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
"Home," Alexander said.
We parked. He led me inside.
The entrance hall was massive. Marble floors. A sweeping staircase. Portraits on the walls—men and women with golden eyes, watching me as I passed.
Servants appeared. Bowed to Alexander. Stared at me.
"Where's Derek?" Alexander asked one.
"In the library, Alpha."
We walked through winding corridors. Past rooms I couldn't see into. Past doors I didn't want to open.
Finally, the library.
It was two stories tall. Books everywhere. Ladders on rails. Leather chairs. A fireplace.
And a man by the window.
He turned when we entered. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Softer than Alexander. Gentler. A face I recognized from the haze of pain and blood five years ago.
"Alana." His voice was warm. "You came."
"Derek." I didn't know what else to say.
He walked toward me. Stopped a respectful distance away. "I'm sorry about your apartment. The flowers. I didn't mean to pressure you."
"The flowers were beautiful. Thank you."
He smiled. It transformed his face. Made him look younger.
"I'm glad you're here. Alexander has talked about you for years. I feel like I know you already."
I looked at Alexander. He was watching us with an expression I couldn't read.
"Derek knows everything," Alexander said. "The plan. The switch. He agreed to it."
I turned back to Derek. "Why? He's your father."
Derek's face hardened. For a moment, he looked almost like Marcus—cold, angry. Then it passed.
"He's not my father. He's a monster who killed my stepfather, poisoned my brother's mate, and has been running a human trafficking ring for decades. I've waited my whole life for someone to stop him."
I absorbed this. "Human trafficking?"
"Women. Children. Disappearing from the streets. He sells them to the highest bidder. Uses pack connections to cover it up." Derek's hands curled into fists. "I have proof. I've been gathering it for years. But I couldn't move against him alone."
"And with me?"
"With you, we have leverage. The prophecy. The Luna of Two Worlds. He's obsessed with you. If you're carrying a child—any child—he'll be distracted. Vulnerable."
I looked between them. Two brothers. One plan. One monster.
"Show me the proof," I said.
Derek led me to a desk. Opened a drawer. Pulled out files. Photos. Recordings.
I spent an hour going through them.
Women's faces. Children's faces. Names. Dates. Locations. Payments. Bank accounts. Emails. Everything.
My hands shook.
"These are real?" I asked.
"All real," Derek said. "Verified. Documented. If we take this to the elders, he's finished."
"Then why haven't you?"
Alexander answered. "Because the elders are old. Traditional. They believe in pack loyalty. Marcus has spent decades building alliances. If we go to them without proof of his worst crimes—murder, not just trafficking—they might protect him. We need him to make a mistake. A big one."
"And the baby is that mistake."
"Yes."
I closed the last file. Looked at Alexander.
"If I do this—if I get pregnant—what happens to the baby after?"
Alexander stepped closer. "The baby is ours. Mine and yours. I'll claim it. Protect it. Love it. Always."
"What if Marcus finds out before we're ready?"
"Then we fight. And we win."
I looked at Derek. At Alexander. At the files full of horrors.
"I need to meet Elena," I said. "Before I decide."
Alexander nodded. "She's upstairs. She's been waiting."
---
Elena's room was at the end of a long corridor. The door was open.
She lay in a massive bed, propped up by pillows. She was thinner than before. Paler. Her eyes were closed.
Alexander knocked softly. "Mother?"
Her eyes opened. They found me. She smiled.
"Alana. Come in, dear."
I walked to her bedside. She reached for my hand. Her grip was weak.
"You're more beautiful than I remembered," she said.
"Thank you."
"Sit. Please."
I sat. Alexander stood by the door, giving us space.
Elena studied my face. "You have questions. About your mother. About what you are."
I nodded.
"Your mother was a Luna. A powerful one. Her name was Serena Blackwood. She was my best friend."
I blinked. "You knew her?"
"Since we were girls. She was from the Oregon pack. Strong. Fierce. Beautiful." Elena's eyes grew distant. "Marcus wanted her. But she chose another—a human. Your father."
"What happened to them?"
"Marcus killed your father. Your mother died giving birth to you—but not before she asked me to protect you. To hide you from Marcus."
I stared at her. "You knew? All this time?"
"I raised you, Alana. Not directly—I couldn't. But I watched over you. Made sure you were safe. Made sure Marcus never found you." Her eyes filled with tears. "I failed. He found you anyway. Through Alexander."
I thought about my childhood. The anonymous scholarships. The mysterious benefactors. The "accidental" meetings with kind strangers who helped me along the way.
That was her.
"You did all that?"
"I loved your mother. And I love her daughter." She squeezed my hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your baby. I'm sorry I couldn't save you from that pain."
Tears burned my eyes. I blinked them back.
"Elena..."
"Don't cry for me, child. I've lived a long life. Full of regrets, yes. But also full of love." She looked at Alexander. "My son loves you. He's never stopped. Don't punish him forever for trying to protect you."
"I don't know if I can trust him."
"Then don't trust him. Trust yourself. You're stronger than you know. Stronger than any of us." She reached up. Touched my face. "Your wolf is waking up. I can feel her. She's fierce. Beautiful. Just like you."
I leaned into her touch. For a moment, I felt like a child again. Safe. Loved.
Then her hand fell. Her eyes closed.
"Rest, Mother," Alexander said softly.
She nodded. Within seconds, she was asleep.
I stood. Walked to the door. Alexander followed me out.
"She doesn't have long," he said. "Weeks. Maybe days."
"I'm sorry."
"She lived to see you again. That's enough."
We walked back through the corridors. Past the portraits. Past the staring servants. Out into the cold mountain air.
I looked at the mansion. At the forest. At the man beside me.
"If I do this," I said, "I have conditions."
"Name them."
"First, Vivian comes with me. She stays here. Protected. She's my best friend and I'm not doing this without her."
"Done."
"Second, I want access to all the evidence. Everything you have on Marcus. I need to know exactly what we're dealing with."
"Done."
"Third..." I hesitated. "Third, if something goes wrong—if I die—you raise our baby. You tell them about me. You make sure they know I loved them."
Alexander's face tightened. "Nothing will go wrong."
"Promise me."
He took my hands. Held them tight. "I promise. If the worst happens, our child will know you. Every day. I swear it."
I looked into his golden eyes. Saw the man I'd married. The man who'd broken me. The man who'd come back.
"Okay," I said. "I'll do it."
He pulled me into his arms. Held me like he'd never let go.
"Thank you. Thank you, Alana."
I didn't hug him back. Not yet.
But I didn't push him away either.
And that, I realized, was the most terrifying thing of all.