A smile curls my lips as I join her at the stove, one arm curling around her waist as I swiftly take the pancake plate from her hand.
“Since you’ve agreed to be my luna…” I begin, quirking up a brow and meeting her skeptical eyes as she flips another pancake. “I would like you to accompany me to the council meeting this morning.”
Annika smiles coyly as she flips the pancake onto the plate I’m holding. “Okay,” she says with a brisk nod. “But we’re only going after I’ve checked your wounds.”
“I promise, I am healed. Never been better.”
She cocks her head to the side, arching a brow skeptically. “Are you sure?”
I lean in until our faces are just an inch apart, and I can taste her breath on my lips, and her pupils dilate as she bats her eyes innocently at me. “Are you just looking for an excuse to see me shirtless…?” I drawl suggestively, and her breath hitches…
…before she lightly slaps my shoulder with the spatula.
“Let’s have breakfast and get to this meeting, shall we?”
I chuckle as I follow her to the table, just grateful to be alive, and grateful that she’s finally letting me into her heart.
***
The council hall quiets when Annika and I enter. Conversations taper off as heads turn in our direction. I’m used to the attention that comes with being Alpha of Silver Stone, but today it feels…different.
Their eyes linger on Annika.
Word travels fast in a valley full of wolves.
Damian leans back in his chair near the center of the long table, studying me with a raised brow. “Well, you looksignificantly less dead than the last time I saw you,” he says dryly, and a few low chuckles ripple through the room.
I pull out the chair beside mine for Annika before sitting down. “I’m told that tends to happen when someone saves your life.”
Annika shifts slightly beside me, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, so I put my hand on her knee to reassure her, offering her a small smile.
Sophie sits across from us, her hand resting over the gentle curve of her stomach. She smiles warmly at Annika. “Don’t worry,” she says, clicking her tongue. “They’ll stare for a few minutes and then move on.”
“Hopefully…” Annika mutters under her breath.
My father rises from the head of the table, his presence commanding the room’s attention instantly. “Let’s begin,” Mortimer says, nodding at Amos once.
The remaining murmurs fade quickly as Amos adjusts his glasses and taps the tablet in front of him, bringing several images onto the screen mounted along the far wall. Photographs from the warehouse fill the display—crates of weapons, suppressor cuffs, ammunition stacked floor to ceiling.
“The operation discovered last night was larger than we initially anticipated,” he explains. “The warehouse contained enough weapons to arm several dozen humans.”
Conan crosses his arms. “And many of those weapons were specifically designed to be effective against wolves.”
Amos nods. “Silver-lined blades, suppressor cuffs, and several experimental devices we’re still analyzing.”
A quiet tension settles over the table. Damian leans forward slightly. “And Marcus Hale?”
“As you know, he’s currently being held in an underground cell in Iron Breath territory,” Conan answers. “He regained consciousness briefly this morning but hasn’t spoken yet.”
“He will,” Damian says flatly.
Amos swipes to another image—Marcus Hale being restrained and dragged from the warehouse. “He’s the only one left alive,” Amos continues. “Which makes him our best chance of learning where the demons are operating.”
“Or where the portal is,” Sophie adds quietly.
The word hangs in the air.
The portal.
