Raelynn's POV

Two hours later, perfectly aligned with the time I had set aside for my date with Roldan, I pull my car into the driveway of the pack house. The keys click as I shut off the engine, grabbing my purse and the small, weightless gift bag sitting on the passenger seat. Holding the bag feels so insubstantial that I keep glancing at it to reassure myself. It’s almost as though if I let go for even a moment, reality might crumble away.

Anticipation wells warmly in my chest. He’s going to love this, I tell myself, a soft grin spreading on my face. But, as the front steps draw closer, the glow of the moment falters.

It takes a second for the eerie quiet to sink in. At this time of day—any day of the week—the pack house usually hums with life, a steady rhythm of voices and movement. Yet now, there’s nothing. I pause, the unnatural stillness of the garden pressing down on me. Not even the faint rustle of activity inside breaks the quiet.

Weird.

Something feels off, and my wolf instincts stir uneasily despite the pregnancy dulling them. I cautiously sniff the surrounding air. The mingled scents of the pack reach me, pouring out of the house. They’re here. They’re all here. But the emotions saturating their presence strike me harder: worry, tension, fear, all tangled together like a tight knot.

What’s happening? Concern tightens my chest as I attempt to open the pack mind link. My voice sends out a pulse. Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?

No answer, just the same, heavy silence. I take another deep breath, focusing now on Roldan’s scent. If something had the pack this disturbed, the Alpha would be at the heart of it—he always is.

His scent is recent, a thread of energy that begins in the pack house and disappears farther away. There’s an obvious rush in its trail, like a storm that hasn’t yet finished churning. But it’s the edge of anger woven into it that unsettles me the most. Anger clings to his scent, sharp and undeniable.

Roldan is a calm leader—always measured, always steady. For him to leave like this, something serious must have happened. A ripple of unease runs through me.

Could this be an attack? That thought makes sense. It could explain why the pack feels frozen with fear and why Roldan seems furious and in motion. He could have gone to regroup the forces at the border to prepare for confrontation.

But why didn’t he tell me? I’m not just his wife—I’m the pack’s Luna and second-best warrior next to him. It’s my responsibility to stand guard over the house if danger looms.

Roldan? I call him over our mate bond, gently at first but growing more insistent when the connection feels murky. Focusing on the thread that binds us, I picture his presence. And then I find him—or, rather, sense him. He’s shifted into his wolf form and is sprinting, but his location remains hazy. Almost like he’s intentionally clouding himself from me.

Roldan? Answer me—what’s going on? My pulse hammers faster as I try to press through the barrier. The only response is a fierce, guttural growl—raw and brimming with rage. The sound crackles through the bond before he abruptly pushes me out, severing the link entirely.

Terror floods every inch of me, squeezing my breath tight.

Out loud, I demand, "What the hell is happening out here?"

“Well, no need to shout, dear.”

The sudden voice makes me spin on my heels. Standing on the porch is Sable, Roldan’s mother. Her figure is composed, every inch of her polished to an icy perfection. Her hair, slicked back immaculately, and the sharp lines of her slate-gray dress make her presence feel intimidating, almost calculating.

My instincts flare a warning. She’s not unfamiliar to me; her presence has always lingered on the edge of confrontation. Yet as she meets my startled gaze, something deeper, more unsettling leaks through her expression.

"Sable," I address her quickly, gripping at a shred of composure. "Do you know what’s going on?"

The thin smirk playing on her lips chills me. "Do you really expect me to spell it out for you? Is this how you’re going to play it?" she counters, her voice cloaked in venomous amusement.

Her cryptic jab freezes me in place. My throat tightens, but I force my words out. "I don’t understand what you’re implying."

The smirk sharpens. "Oh, come now." She leans slightly forward, danger dancing in her icy glare. "Roldan found out about your little extracurricular activities."

The weight of her accusation crashes into me like a tidal wave. For several long seconds, I can’t even process what she’s said, let alone respond. The fragmented pieces of her words claw for meaning in my head. Roldan. Found out. Little side-piece?

Finally, the shock detonates into words. "What side-piece? I haven’t done anything—I’ve never cheated on Roldan!"

Sable scoffs, rolling her eyes as if the conversation itself is beneath her. "Spare the theatrics. You’re not winning any awards. I’ve got all I need to prove it."

My disbelief surges into full-blown fury as I breathe, That’s not true. The layers of fear and confusion melt, leaving raw outrage in their place.