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“Give him a chance, baby. We don’t know the full story.”

“As long as he doesn’t hurt my sister. I’ll tolerate him. For now.”

14

Arlene’s POV

The music shifts. Something older. Something with a pulse that lives in the ground instead of the air, and the crowd responds before Luna Selena’s voice cuts through it.

“It's time for the Silver Moon Pack run.” She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t need to. The words land in the clearing like a stone dropped into water, and the ripple moves outward through Five thousand and forty seven wolves in the span of a heartbeat. “Moonrise in ten minutes. Warriors, form up on the eastern tree line.”

She pauses. Her eyes sweep the crowd with the particular precision of a woman who has done this a hundred times. “Pregnant females stay behind. Females with young pups who aren’t running can choose to stay behind. Pups under thirteen stay behind. Elders can stay behind. Wounded back to the hospital. Anyone not participating, to the east tree line.”

The clearing reorganizes itself. Wolves peel away from tables, from conversations, from the bonfire’s edge, and the current of movement splits into two distinct streams, one flowing east toward the shifting field, one flowing west toward the open grass where the non runners gather. The air changes. Thickens. The particular ozone tinged charge of wolves preparing to shift presses against my skin like a hand. Darian’s hand finds the small of my back. “I’ll be back soon my love.”

“I know.”

“Stay close to Jasmin. She knows the drill.”

“I know, Darian. Stop worrying.”

He presses his lips to my temple. Holds it there. Then he’s moving, his stride carrying him toward the western stream with the particular, unhurried confidence of a man who has been running with packs since before he could read.

I watch him go. His shoulders square as he merges into the stream of adults heading west, and something in my chest pulls tight, not fear, not quite. Something older. The particular ache of watching your mate walk toward something you can’t follow. Then Damian’s hand finds mine.

“Mom.” His voice is quiet, steady, carrying the particular weight of a pup who has already decided what he’s going to say and is only now working up the courage to say it.

I look down. His brown eyes are fixed on the eastern stream. On Darian’s back, already disappearing into the crowd.

“I want to run.” The words hit me like a slap. I crouch, wincing at the pull in my shoulder, and bring myself to his level. His jaw is set. His chin is lifted. His small body is rigid with something that isn’t defiance so much as the absolute, bone deep certainty of a wolf who has heard his Alpha blood speak and cannot unhear it.

“Baby, no.” The refusal comes out before I can shape it into something gentler. “You’re six. The run is for adults and teenagers. You heard Luna Selena, pups under thirteen stay behind.”

“I can do it mom.” His voice doesn’t rise. Doesn’t drop. It stays exactly where it is, level, steady, the voice of a pup who has been having this argument inside his own head for the last ten minutes and has already rehearsed every counterpoint.

“Dad told me he started pack runs when he was five, and I’m six, I’m behind.”

“Damian.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “The rules exist for a reason.”

“I know the rules.” He doesn’t blink. “I also know I’m not a regular pup.”

The mindlink hits me before I can form another word.

“He’s right.” Darian’s voice in my head, quiet and careful, the particular tone he uses when he’s already made up his mind and is giving me the space to catch up.

“He’s alpha blood, Arlene. Wolves like us start earlier than others. You know that.”

My eyes find Darian across the shifting crowd. He’s standing at the edge of the eastern stream with Alpha Rylan, and the two of them are talking, low, deliberate, the particular stance of two men who have found a language between them faster than either of them probably expected. Alpha Rylan’s head is angled toward Darian’s, listening, and whatever Darian is saying, Alpha Rylan’s expression doesn’t change.

My throat tightens. I look at Damian. He’s still my pup. I can’t lose him again. I can’t lose any of my pups again.

“He’s ready.”

“Darian...”

“He’s been ready. I’ve watched him for six years. You have too.” My throat works. My eyes are still on Damian’s face, on the particular stillness of a pup who is watching me. Then Luna Selena’s voice cuts through. Not just to me. To all of us, Darian, Alpha Rylan, me, and, from the way Damian’s small body goes rigid, to him too.

“Let him run. We don’t hold a pup back from his nature. That’s not protection. That’s a cage. Let him be great. That’s why we have Enforcers bringing up the rear. To protect the pack. All… of the pack.”