Page 86 of Lunar's Ruined Alpha
I hand him the phone.
His brows lift as he reads. “Well, that’s good. It’s nice to know they tied up those loose ends on their own. Zahra deserves the promotion, too.”
“She really does.”
A rush of pride rises in my chest, mingled with relief. It’s over now. The power vacuum, the whispered mutiny, and the tension that’s been growing in the Whiterose territory like a slow-moving storm…it’s all finally resolved. There’s a new Alpha in place, and I’m sure Tim and all the others have been adequately and appropriately disposed of.
Plus, an official alliance between our packs is about to be reforged, with my best friend finally being given the authority she’s long deserved. Zahra has always been a gifted healer, working dutifully at her mother’s side, but I always had a feeling that she was destined for more.
Rowan pulls me close with an arm around my shoulders and presses a kiss to my temple. “Looks like we’ve got some diplomacy to prepare for.”
“And a drink to buy Zahra.”
“That, too.”
We keep walking, the river whispering beside us. Tomorrow, we’ll make our slow return to whatever our version of normalcy is about to become and take our place before the pack. We’ll begin again, properly. Together.
But for tonight, I just let myself savor this. This moment. This man. This life.
Finally ours.
Epilogue
Epilogue
Rowan
[1.5 Years Later]
The sky is clear over Greenbriar territory tonight.
Not a single cloud is in sight. The sky is just stars, sharp and bright, scattered across the black velvet above the mountains. The air smells like wood-smoke and pine, like tradition and something new blooming beneath it.
I stand at the top of the stone steps outside the main house, heart thudding in my chest, and try not to show how profoundly this moment is affecting me.
The clearing is full. Every wolf in our territory has gathered, shoulder to shoulder, forming a silent and reverent crowd. The Whiterose delegation is here, too, standing proudly near the front. Zahra is among them, tall and fierce and currently shooting a conspiratorial grin in Alina’s direction.
Alina is close by, luminous and proud. One hand rests protectively over the curve of her stomach, our unborn child nestled safely beneath her heartbeat. Her other arm is draped around Noah, who’s standing up straighter than usual, trying to look older than his almost-elevenyears. It’s not working—his shoelaces are untied, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek—but he’s trying. I love him for that.
I love them for everything.
Behind me, my father steps forward and places his hand on my shoulder.
“You’re ready,” he says. His voice is calm and certain.
I meet his gaze. The lines on his face have deepened since the battle that ended the Blackburn threat, but his eyes are steady and strong. He’s still the Alpha in spirit, even if he won’t be in name much longer.
“You sure you don’t want to drag this out a little longer?” I ask lightly, keeping my voice quiet enough to not be overheard. “You could milk it for a few more years?”
He huffs. “One of us has earned their rest. The other is about to learn what it really means to never sleep again.”
The crowd hears that and laughs gently, but then silence falls again as my father raises his hand.
“In the name of the bloodline,” he begins, his voice ringing out clear and proud. “In the name of the pack, in the name of the old gods and the earth beneath our paws, I hereby step down as Alpha of the mighty Greenbriars.”
A murmur ripples through the gathered wolves, old and young alike, but no one breaks the solemnity.
“I pass this mantle,” he continues. “To my son. To Rowan Greenbriar, ninth of his line, born under the light of the harvest moon, heir of Ryland, grandson of Calvin, great-grandson of Holt…”
