Chapter 104
Alexander’s POV
One month later.
The darkened bedroom was silent save for Summer’s shallow breathing beside me. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting silver shadows across her sleeping form.
As Blackwood Pack Alpha, I rarely needed more than four hours of sleep, but tonight I found myself wide awake, watching over my mate as she finally succumbed to exhaustion.
She hadn’t slept peacefully in weeks.
The events of the past weeks had taken their toll on us both. Orion paced restlessly within me, still furious about what had happened to Felix, to Summer.
The investigation into the Western Alliance contact had turned up frustratingly little so far. Beta Ethan had been working tirelessly with our intelligence teams, but whoever orchestrated this had covered their
tracks well.
Summer whimpered softly in her sleep, her fingers clutching at the sheets. My heart clenched as I reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face.
“No… please…” Summer’s voice was barely a whisper, but my enhanced hearing caught every syllable.” Felix…”
I propped myself up on one elbow, debating whether to wake her. Sometimes, the dreams needed to run their course. Other times, they spiraled into something worse.
Her body tensed suddenly, back arching as if in pain.
“Don’t take him… please…”
That was enough. I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer, even in sleep.
“Summer,” I called softly, my hand gently squeezing her shoulder. “Sweetheart, wake up. You’re dreaming.
She thrashed once, violently.
“Summer,” I said more firmly, letting a touch of my Alpha voice surface–not to command, but to anchor her to reality. “You’re safe. Come back to me.”
Her eyes flew open in the darkness. For a moment, she stared through me, still trapped in the nightmare. Then recognition flickered across her face, and her hand shot out to grasp my arm with surprising strength.
1/3
“Alexander…” Her voice broke on my name.
I pulled her against me immediately, one hand cradling the back of her head as she buried her face against my chest. Her entire body trembled, and I could smell the salt of unshed tears mingling.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured into her hair, Orion rumbling soothingly as I stroked her back. “Just breathe.”
Summer pulled back slightly, just enough to look up into my eyes. In the moonlight, I could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks, the raw vulnerability in her gaze that she showed only to me.
“When does it stop hurting, Alexander?” she asked, her voice small but steady. “When will I stop seeing his face every time I close my eyes?”
The question broke my heart. I cupped her face between my hands, thumbs gently wiping away her tears.
“It doesn’t stop hurting,” I told her honestly, because I would never lie to her, not even to ease her pain.” But eventually, you learn to carry it differently. The sharp edges wear down. The memories of his smile will someday bring comfort instead of agony.”
Her breath hitched, and I felt the momentary surge of her grief through–a bottomless well of sorrow that threatened to drown us both. Orion whined, desperate to take this burden from her.
“I keep thinking about what we found on Suzanna’s phone,” she said after a few moments, her breathing slowly steadying. “Someone used her. Someone planned this whole thing.”
I nodded, brushing my lips across her forehead. “Beta Ethan has teams working on tracing those messages. The Council has granted us access to their communications network. If there’s a trail, we’ll
find it.”
“And if we don’t?” Her eyes held mine, challenging, searching for the truth. “What if whoever did this is
powerful enough to hide from even the Council?”
The question hung between us in the darkness. Orion stirred, territorial and fiercely protective. As Alpha of one of the strongest packs in North America, there were few who could hide from me for long–but Summer’s concern wasn’t unfounded. Whoever had orchestrated this had resources, connections, and a disturbing level of access to information about us both.
“Then we get creative,” I promised, my voice dropping to a dangerous timbre that made her shiver for
entirely different reasons. “Because no matter who they are or where they hide, they made one fatal
mistake.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her hand coming to rest over my heart.
“They hurt what belongs to me,” I answered simply, letting my Alpha power rise just enough that she could feel it–the absolute certainty of my protection. “My mate. Her child. My pack would tear apart continents to avenge that.”
2/3
Her lips curved into a ghost of a smile, the first I’d seen in days, and the sight of it made Orionrumble with approval.
“Our pack,” she corrected softly.
Pride swelled in my chest at her words. Despite everything–the trauma, the grief, the betrayal she’d suffered–Summer was embracing her role as my Luna. The broken woman Foster had discarded was
growing stronger every day.
“Our pack,” I agreed, brushing my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. I poured my devotion into that touch.
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. When she spoke again, there
was a new resolve in her voice.
“I want to create something in his name,” she said. “A foundation for pups like Felix–ones who have
been hurt by those meant to protect them.”
I shifted so I could better see her face, surprised but moved by the determination I found there.
“Felix Foundation,” she continued, gaining confidence with each word. “We could help young wolves who need transplants, or who’ve been abused by their families. Give them a safe place. Alexander, I may not be able to bring my son back, but I can make sure other mothers don’t lose theirs.”
My throat tightened with emotion. This was why she was my perfect mate–her capacity for turning her own pain into purpose was extraordinary.
“I think it’s brilliant,” I told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We have the resources, the
connections. The pack would rally behind this cause.”
“I’m not just a grieving mother,” Summer said, her voice steadier than it had been in weeks. “I’m your
Luna now, and I have responsibilities to this pack. To all its members, especially the most vulnerable.”
I pulled her closer, overwhelmed with pride. “You’re extraordinary, you know that? Most would be
consumed by their grief, but you’re already thinking of how to channel it into something meaningful.”
“I learned from the best,” she whispered, her hand coming up to trace the line of my jaw. “You showed me
what true leadership looks like–not just power, but compassion.”
Her lips found mine in the darkness, no longer seeking comfort but offering connection. The kiss was
gentle at first, then deepened with a slow–burning intensity that made Orionstir with possessive
satisfaction. When she finally pulled away, she rested her forehead against mine.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For not letting me drown in this.”
“Never,” I promised, “Now try to get some sleep. Tomorrow we start planning the Felix Foundation.”
She nestled against my chest, her breathing gradually slowing as she drifted back to sleep.
