Romance

  Celena&#39;s Perspective
  After getting married, life became so simple that I sometimes forgot I was a werewolf.
  I’m not joking. I’d wake in the morning, usually to find Jacob already up—either making breakfast or back from an early patrol, smelling of dew and pine needles. Rubbing my eyes, I’d shuffle into the kitchen. He’d turn from the stove with a lazy, morning-only smile. “Sleep well, love?” Then he’d hand me a mug of coffee, always the perfect temperature, with double sugar and milk. He still teased me about my childish sweet tooth, but he never forgot.
  We’d eat breakfast together, listening to Lily chatter about some “earth-shattering” new mischief Aurora had gotten into, or the twins complain about an uncooperative family on the patrol route.
  Sunlight streamed through the kitchen’s checkered windows, pooling on the wooden table and making the honey jar gleam.
  During th

  Aurora&#39;s Perspective
  My name is Aurora. I’m eighteen, the so-called ‘princess’ of the Moonlight Pack—at least, that’s what everyone around me seems to think. God, listen to that title. How ridiculous.
  At eighteen, my life should be full of college parties, road trips, and hilariously bad hookups. Not trapped in this massive, cold mansion of glass and stone, saddled with family duty, having awkward weekly dinners with some other pack’s ‘promising young heir.’
  Ethan, my father, Alpha of one of the largest werewolf packs in the state. He’s as steady and unyielding as a glacier. The love in his eyes when he looks at me feels… heavy, like a mountain about to crush my shoulders.
  Lily, my mother, once a livewire, now the picture of elegant grace as the pack&#39;s Luna. But her nagging has only gotten stronger—endless lectures on ‘poise,’ ‘duty,’ and ‘suitable matches.’
  Then ther

  Jacob&#39;s Perspective
  The next morning, I was woken by sunlight and a deeply pleasurable ache. Celena was curled against me, sleeping soundly, her face holding a sated, childlike peace. And I… I felt incredible. Better than ever. The world was sharp and bright, even the sparrows outside sounded sweeter.
  When we dressed—Celena insisted on a high neckline, though the fresh mark below her collarbone and its subtle scent was a beacon to any werewolf—and walked into the kitchen, the first one to see us was Lily.
  She was clutching a coffee mug, bleary-eyed. But when her gaze swept over us, lingering on the hint of the mark at Celena’s throat and the undeniable, mingled scent that now clung to us, her eyes went wide. The mug wobbled.
  “Holy shit…” she breathed, her stare darting between Celena and me, her mouth slowly dropping open before splitting into a huge grin—a mix of shock, gl

Celena&#39;s Perspective
  After getting married, life became so simple that I sometimes forgot I was a werewolf.
  I’m not joking. I’d wake in the morning, usually to find Jacob already up—either making breakfast or back from an early patrol, smelling of dew and pine needles. Rubbing my eyes, I’d shuffle into the kitchen. He’d turn from the stove with a lazy, morning-only smile. “Sleep well, love?” Then he’d hand me a mug of coffee, always the perfect temperature, with double sugar and milk. He still teased me about my childish sweet tooth, but he never forgot.
  We’d eat breakfast together, listening to Lily chatter about some “earth-shattering” new mischief Aurora had gotten into, or the twins complain about an uncooperative family on the patrol route.
  Sunlight streamed through the kitchen’s checkered windows, pooling on the wooden table and making the honey jar gleam.
  During the day, we had our own routines. Jacob handled pack business with the Alphas and Betas—discussing 

Chapter 249