GREYSON PACK HOUSE
Khaelis' POV
The Alpha house had always been imposing, even to me. Built from dark stone and pale wood, it sat at the heart of the pack grounds like a quiet threat. Wide steps led up to towering doors carved with old runes of leadership and loyalty. High arched windows watched the courtyard like unblinking eyes. It was meant to inspire pride
Today, it inspired submission
As the Sentinel approached, the house seemed to brace itself. Servants who had been bustling moments ago froze mid-step. Conversations died unfinished. Heads bowed. Spines straightened. Even the guards stationed at the entrance shifted, standing taller, sharper, as though her presence alone rewrote the hierarchy for a moment.
No announcement was made. None was needed.
She walked with a measured pace, unhurried, as if the ground itself had agreed to wait for her. Her boots made soft, deliberate sounds against the stone path, each step controlled, practiced. Not the walk of someone visiting. The walk of someone inspecting what already belonged to her.
The air changed.
It thickened, pressing against my lungs until every breath felt deliberate. Her scent spread slowly, confidently, curling through the courtyard like smoke. Wolves reacted before they realized they were reacting. Some lowered their eyes instinctively. Others stared, caught between awe and fear
I noticed the way servants unconsciously stepped aside, creating a clear path to the doors. No one told them to move. They just did.
She passed beneath the shadow of the Alpha house, and for the first time since I became Luna, it felt like the building recognized someone else.
Not better.
Just… inevitable… it had no choice
I remained seated, my hands folded neatly in my lap, even as my pulse hammered against my ribs. Luna or not, instinct screamed at me to rise, to acknowledge her rank.
I didn't.
Her gaze flicked toward me briefly. Not surprise. Not irritation..
Recognition…
The corner of her mouth curved, just slightly.
Lady Isabella stood before she reached the steps.
I hadn't even noticed her rise.
Isabella moved with the confidence of someone secure in her place. A woman who had never needed to prove herself.
Until now.
"Fenris Sentinel," Isabella said, dipping into a respectful bow. Not too deep. Not shallow either. Perfectly balanced.
The Sentinel stopped a few feet from her.
"Lady Isabella," she replied, her voice calm, smooth, and cool. The kind of voice that didn't need volume to command attention. "You look well."
It wasn't a compliment. It was an observation.
"Your journey must have been long," Isabella continued. "The Alpha is away on pack business, but—"
"I'm aware," the Sentinel cut in gently.
The interruption was polite. Almost kind.
And yet Isabella fell silent instantly.
A subtle thing. Easy to miss. But I saw it.
The Sentinel wore black, not mourning black, but something sharper. A fitted coat trimmed with dark silver thread, structured at the shoulders, flowing open to reveal leather beneath. Every piece looked intentional. Practical. Powerful. Her hair was pulled back tight, exposing the sharp lines of her face and the faint scar running along her jaw. Not hidden. Displayed.
Her stance shifted slightly as she addressed Isabella again, weight balanced perfectly, hands relaxed at her sides
"The council scheduled this visit carefully," she said. "There's no need for concern."
Isabella smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Of course. We are honored to host you."
The Sentinel's gaze drifted past her then, toward the Alpha house doors.
"Hosting," she echoed softly.
Something passed between them then. Not hostility. Not friendliness.
Assessment.
"I assume the cubs are well," the Sentinel added, glancing toward the courtyard where the children still hovered, unusually quiet.
"They are," Isabella replied. "Very much so."
"Good," the Sentinel said. "Children thrive best in stability."
Her eyes flicked, just once, in my direction.
My fingers tightened together.
She took a step forward, and Isabella instinctively stepped aside to allow her passage. There was no command or order, just silent understanding of the power imbalance
As the Sentinel ascended the steps, her hand brushed the stone railing with casual familiarity. Like she had touched it before. Like she remembered its shape.
I watched her disappear into the Alpha house, my chest aching with something I couldn't yet name.
Whatever she had come for, it wasn't brief.
And it wasn't harmless.
And somehow, terrifyingly, it felt personal