Chapter 5
The Silverclaw Pack House was in turmoil as I watched from afar through Alexa's secure video feed. Five years had passed since my "death," yet the pack still hadn't recovered from the scandal I'd left behind.
Briana stood in the center of the great hall, her copper hair gleaming under the chandelier light as she addressed the pack elders. Her hand rested protectively over her stomach—a gesture that made my own heart clench with remembered pain.
"I carry the Alpha's heir," she announced, her voice ringing with triumph. "A son who will strengthen the Silverclaw bloodline."
The elders murmured among themselves, their ancient eyes calculating. Marcus Kane stepped forward, his weathered face impassive.
"And the Alpha's response to this... news?"
Briana's smile faltered slightly. "He will acknowledge us both publicly. Today."
As if summoned by her words, Greyson appeared at the entrance to the hall. My breath caught at the sight of him—thinner than I remembered, dark circles shadowing his eyes, but still radiating that unmistakable Alpha presence.
"Alpha," Briana approached him with practiced grace, "I've shared our joyful news with the pack."
Something dangerous flashed in Greyson's eyes—something that made even the strongest warriors step back.
"You dare," he said, his voice deadly quiet.
Briana's smile froze. "Dare what? To carry your child?"
"To lie," he snarled, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room. "There is no child."
The pack gasped collectively as Briana's face drained of color.
"How dare you question me!" she hissed, her warrior training surfacing as her composure cracked.
"I question everything about you," Greyson replied coldly. "Including your sanity if you thought this deception would work."
With a swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, his Alpha aura crushing down on her until she gasped for breath.
"I will never mark another," he declared, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall. "Gianna was my Luna. My mate. My everything. And I will honor her memory until my last breath."
Briana's eyes widened with fury and humiliation as he released her, leaving her trembling before the entire pack.
---
"Gianna Rossi's spring collection has taken Milan by storm," Lorenzo announced as he entered my studio in Florence. "The Lycan King himself has requested a private showing."
I looked up from my sketches, smiling at my patron and protector. "Thank you, Lorenzo. But I couldn't have done it without your support."
He waved away my gratitude with a elegant gesture. "You saved yourself, Gianna. Your talent did the rest."
Through the open window, I could hear Hattie laughing as she played in the garden with her nonno—my father, who had become her fiercest protector.
"Mama! Look what I found!" she called, running toward the studio with something cupped in her hands.
I knelt to her level as she approached, my heart swelling with love at the sight of her—so like me, yet with glimpses of him in her golden-flecked eyes.
"A little wolf!" she exclaimed, opening her palms to reveal a small stone carving of a wolf pup.
"It's beautiful," I said softly, wondering if her subconscious was already reaching for the heritage I'd kept hidden from her.
---
Across the ocean, Greyson paced his office like a caged animal. The Silverclaw Pack was weakening under his erratic leadership, yet he refused all attempts at intervention.
"Alpha," Marcus Kane entered cautiously, "the European business partners are expecting you in Milan tomorrow."
"I'm not going to Milan," Greyson growled.
"The meeting has been scheduled for months," Marcus insisted. "The pack needs this alliance."
Something in Greyson's expression shifted—a flicker of resignation. "Fine."
---
The business meeting dragged endlessly as Greyson sat at the head of the conference table, barely listening to the proposals. His mind was elsewhere—as it always was these days.
"If I could have your attention," the Italian representative said with barely concealed irritation.
Greyson forced himself to focus, nodding curtly.
Afterward, as he stepped onto the balcony to clear his head, a scent caught his attention—faint but unmistakable.
His body went rigid as he inhaled deeply.
"It can't be," he whispered.
But his wolf knew better. Aria howled within him, recognizing what his human mind refused to believe.
Following the scent like a man possessed, Greyson tracked it through the winding streets of Milan until he reached a private villa overlooking the city.
There, on a sun-drenched balcony, stood a woman whose face had haunted his dreams for five years.
"Gianna," he breathed.
I froze at the sound of his voice, my heart stopping in my chest as I turned slowly to face the ghost I'd fled from all these years.
Behind me, Hattie looked up curiously from her drawings.
"Mama?" she asked. "Who is that man?"
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