Chapter 5

Weston

I reached the bottom of the stairs just as Hailey vanished down the adjoining hall. A flicker of movement, nothing more. My focus was on Alex, collapsed on her side, where the balusters having broken her fall. The rise was shallow, the landing wooden—enough to bruise, not break.

“Alex!” I knelt, heart hammering. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion sharpening into pain. “Can you move?”

She tried, but winced. I lifted her gently, scanning arms and ribs. Bruises were already blooming, but I found no sign of broken bones.

“You fell hard,” I said, my voice tight as I assessed the damage. “But the stairs are shallow and the balusters caught you. I don’t think any bones are broken.” The tenderness in my touch was a lie; inside, rage was building.

Nox took over, and I roared. “I’ll kill her!”

“No, Weston, please, let her be, let’s leave this hell pack”

I was impressed with her kindness, but Nox didn’t stop inside of me.

But now I needed to take her to safety.

“Now, please.”

***

Alex

I don’t know if me stopping Weston from killing Hailey was the right thing to do, but I hope we would never meet again.

By the time the gates of Mooncrest appeared ahead of us, exhaustion had settled so deeply into my bones that even breathing felt like work.

I stared through the window.

Mooncrest was nothing like Blackridge.

The packhouse rose beyond high stone walls, enormous but not oppressive, its towers illuminated against the night. Guards stood along the entrance, silver insignias catching the light as the gates opened for our convoy.

Home, Calista whispered.

The word tightened something in my chest.

Not ours.

His.

That distinction mattered.

The cars stopped in the wide courtyard.

Weston was beside my door before I could reach for the handle.

“I can walk.”

His eyes dropped pointedly to my ankle.

“It’s already better.”

“Alexandra.”

“I said better. Not perfect.”

His mouth almost twitched.

He offered me his hand instead of arguing.

I took it.

Roland climbed from the car behind us, already speaking quietly with Dominic. Two royal guards immediately moved toward him.

Apparently Alpha Kings did not return home unnoticed.

“Weston!”

A man came down the front steps toward us, broad-shouldered and grinning.

Weston exhaled. “Adrian.”

Adrian embraced him quickly before turning to Dominic.

“And somehow you survived too.”

Dominic slapped his shoulder. “Disappointed?”

“Deeply.”

For the first time since leaving Blackridge, something almost normal passed between them.

Then Adrian noticed me.

His smile faded—not into hostility, but surprise.

Before he could say anything, another voice came from the doorway.

“Weston.”

He changed instantly.

The tension left his shoulders.

A woman stood at the top of the steps.

Weston’s mother.

She was elegant even seated in her wheelchair, silver-blonde hair swept neatly away from her face. There was nothing fragile about the way she held herself. Her eyes went first to Weston, then to Roland, and finally to me.

For several seconds, she simply stared.

Weston came closer to my side.

“Mom, this is Alexandra Delacroix.”

Her expression changed.

“Alexandra?”

I nodded cautiously.

Something warm and terribly sad entered her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

The affection in those two words startled me more than anger would have.

She wheeled closer but stopped before touching me.

“I knew your mother.”

My throat tightened.

Before I could answer, movement near the doorway caught my attention.

Another woman had appeared behind her.

She was beautiful.

Not beautiful in the soft way people sometimes used the word to be polite.

Beautiful enough that I noticed immediately.

Long golden hair fell over the shoulders of a dark green dress. She stood perfectly straight, completely at ease among the royal family and guards surrounding her.

Her gaze went to Weston.

Then to his hand still holding mine.

Something changed in her expression.

Only for a second.

Then it disappeared beneath a composed smile.

“Weston.”

He went still beside me.

“Camilla.”

Calista stirred.

Who is she?

I had no idea.

Camilla descended the remaining steps.

“I heard you were returning tonight.” Her eyes moved to Roland. “Your Majesty.”

Roland inclined his head. “Camilla.”

Then she looked at me.

Not my bruises.

Not my ruined hair.

Me.

“You must be Alexandra Delacroix.”

The fact that she already knew my name unsettled me.

“Yes.”

“I’m Camilla.”

Her smile remained perfectly polite.

“Welcome to Mooncrest.”

Nothing about the words was rude.

Still, something in the air had changed.

I looked at Weston.

His jaw had tightened.

Interesting.

Dominic suddenly became fascinated by something across the courtyard.

Even more interesting.

Weston’s mother broke the silence.

“Alexandra needs rest, not introductions on the front steps.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

Four people looked at me.

I sighed. “Apparently, I’m not.”

Weston’s mother smiled.

“I think we’re going to get along.”

Adrian laughed.

Camilla didn’t.

Roland turned toward Weston. “Come with me. Dominic too.”

Weston looked at me immediately.

“I’ll be fine.”

Nox apparently disagreed because Weston’s eyes flashed briefly.

His mother noticed.

So did Camilla.

“I’ll take care of her,” his mother said.

Weston hesitated.

Then he squeezed my hand once before letting go.

“I won’t be long.”

I watched him disappear into the packhouse with Roland and Dominic.

When I looked back, Camilla was still watching me.

***

Weston

My father’s office looked exactly as it had when we left.

Maps covered one wall. Pack records filled another. The royal crest hung above the fireplace.

Father shut the door behind Dominic.

For several seconds, none of us spoke.

Then he held out his hand.

“The report.”

I removed the folded document from inside my coat and gave it to him.

He had already heard the physician’s preliminary findings at Blackridge.

He had seen Alexandra collapse.

He had seen the blood strips remain white.

He had sat inside the Council chamber when Blackridge’s alliances began to unravel.

There was nothing about what had happened tonight that I needed to explain to him.

What we needed now was to decide what came next.

Father opened the report.

“The archive comparison came through while we were traveling?”

Dominic nodded. “Three comparable cases in almost four hundred years.”

“And all three?”

“Suspected Primordial descendants.”

Father read silently.

I paced toward the window.

Below us, Mooncrest guards were already changing positions around the courtyard.

“She cannot leave the territory unguarded,” Father said.

“She won’t.”

“And no one outside this room learns what the report says.”

“I already gave the order.”

He looked up.

“This is larger than Blackridge now.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

His tone made me turn.

Father placed the report on his desk.

“Darius Thorne wanted control of Lunar Crest territory. That is a political problem. Alexandra being Lucien Delacroix’s surviving heir is a political problem.”

His finger touched the report.

“This is something else.”

Dominic leaned against the edge of the desk. “If word gets out, every Alpha who knows the old stories will start asking questions.”

“Not only Alphas,” Father said.

Silence followed.

I remembered the restricted records.

Primordial families hunted.

Bloodlines disappearing.

Powerful wolves trying to breed, bind, or control something they did not understand.

Nox growled.

Let them come.

That was exactly what worried me.

Father studied me.

“You brought her to Mooncrest because she needed protection.”

“Yes.”

“And because she is your mate.”

I said nothing.

His expression sharpened.

“Those are not always the same thing, Weston.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

He leaned back.

“Because Alexandra Delacroix has spent seven years belonging to other people.”

The words landed harder than I expected.

“She does not belong to me.”

“I know that.”

“Make sure everyone else does too.”

Camilla flashed through my mind.

Dominic noticed.

Of course he did.

He sighed. “Speaking of everyone else…”

I glared at him.

Father looked between us. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Dominic smiled without humor.

“Camilla.”

Father closed his eyes briefly.

I rubbed a hand across my face.

Not tonight.

Absolutely not tonight.

“We’ll deal with Camilla tomorrow.”

Father gave me a look that suggested he doubted problems disappeared simply because I scheduled them for later.

Before he could answer, a strange vibration passed beneath my feet.

I stopped.

Dominic straightened.

The glass in the cabinet trembled.

Then came the howls.

One.

Then another.

Then dozens.

Wolves across Mooncrest lifted their voices almost simultaneously.

Nox surged beneath my skin.

I crossed to the window.

“What the hell is that?” Dominic asked.

Below, pale silver light spread across the stones of the courtyard.

And Alexandra stood at its center.