Chapter 19

Weston

I had felt powerful wolves before—each Alpha announcing their strength by pressing against the air and demanding attention. But when the stranger strode through Mooncrest’s gates, he carried something else entirely—not the raw dominance of an Alpha nor the ruthless hunger of a conqueror, but an ancient force so primeval that the earth itself seemed to bow. Without a single command, every warrior behind me sank to one knee.

Dominic, at my side, stared in stunned silence before muttering, “Well. That’s new.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What?”

He shot me a sideways glance. “You look offended.”

I bristled. “I am not.”

“No, you are,” he insisted with a smug grin. He was right—and I swallowed my retort.

All my life, I’d sculpted Mooncrest into an impregnable fortress, earning each warrior’s unwavering respect. Yet I never wanted their subservience; every bow stung my pride. Still, they knelt not merely for me, but for something more powerf