Lucas POV:
Inside His Lodge:
Lucas paced the shadowed confines of his den, the heart-lodge's ancient walls seeming to close in tighter with every step. The fire in the central hearth crackled low, casting flickering light across the carved faces of his ancestors—eternal judges staring down with unblinking stone eyes. Their silent scrutiny had always been a comfort, a reminder of the legacy he carried. Tonight, it felt like accusation.
Six lives, he thought, the number echoing in his skull like a drumbeat. Six serpent hatchlings, growing strong inside a male who defies every law of nature I know. And his scent...his scent calls to me like the moon calls the tide.
He stopped, claws flexing into the thick furs underfoot. Alex. The strange, bold outsider with eyes like summer sky and a spirit fiercer than any wolf he'd met. Pregnant. Vulnerable. Claimable. The word slithered through his mind unbidden, stirring instincts he'd long learned to chain for the greater good.
