"The choice of the heart is more important than the choice of the family."
{ROXANNE'S POV}
Three days had passed since the werewolves went after Michael, led by a Beta. No matter how I looked at it, his chances of survival seemed slim. Outnumbered five to one, the odds were stacked against him.
Though worry for him lingered, a more immediate concern took hold: the Moonfall Pack was arriving tomorrow to forge an alliance with ours. As custom dictated, the wedding would take place under the veil of night, with the moon as its only witness.
Anger simmered within me, and I needed an outlet. I headed to the training grounds—not just to sharpen my skills, but to bleed the frustration from my veins.
It was 9:00 a.m.—the grounds already alive with the sound of grunts, impact, and discipline. Dozens of warriors were mid-training, muscles straining under the morning sun. The men sparred shirtless; the women, in full attire. Blood occasionally splattered the ground, though our supernatural healing quickly erased the damage.
Overseeing it all was Malachi—my father's closest friend and the Prime Beta. He stood tall, a calm force amid the chaos, his sharp brown eyes catching mine.
"Sparring again?" he said, beckoning me over. "Considering your wedding is tomorrow, maybe you should avoid bruising your romantic agenda."
I gave him a dry smile. "You always joke too much, Malachi. Where's Nathaniel? I need someone to test out a few moves on."
Before he could answer, a familiar voice called from the crowd. "I'm over here, Roxanne! Stop pestering my old man."
Malachi chuckled, dismissing me with a knowing look. I navigated the battlefield of sparring pairs until I found him—Nathaniel. Rugged, lean, and annoyingly handsome, his eight-pack abs caught the sunlight as his trimmed black afro added to the effortless charm that had all the girls watching. I couldn't help but smirk.
"You know," I said playfully, closing the distance between us, "once I'm done with you, maybe those girls will finally stop drooling."
"Bold talk," he shot back, matching my grin. "But let's not forget—you've never actually beaten me."
I didn't let him finish. I lunged forward with a feint, aiming high before sweeping low. He anticipated it, pivoting smoothly and backing up just in time.
"Same old move," he teased, darting forward. His knee came flying toward my chin. I blocked it with my arms, but the force knocked me back a few paces.
He didn't stop. With a stomp, he propelled himself forward unnaturally fast. His fist swelled in my vision—familiar. I ducked, spun behind him, and leapt, wrapping my legs around his neck and flipping him to the ground beneath me.
He twisted free in one swift motion, flipping me and pinning me down. A flurry of punches followed—four landed hard, sending blood flying. The remaining three I blocked, barely. I head-butted him mid-strike, the crack of our skulls stunning him just long enough for me to gain the upper hand.
Grabbing his collar, I slammed my forehead into his again. He reeled, forehead split and bleeding, though I knew it would heal fast. My own wounds were already closing, leaving faint scars that would fade soon.
He staggered up and charged. His kick struck my knee, dropping me. Another punch connected with my chin—blinding pain. My vision swam, healing slower now, signs I was reaching my limit.
"You've lost, Roxanne," he said, extending a hand. I took it and stood, ignoring the small crowd watching us in stunned silence.
"Imagine you're being hunted by five werewolves, including a Beta," I said casually, brushing dirt from my pants. "Would you survive?"
"You're worried about Michael," he said, reading between the lines. "But no Beta could survive that—not even my father. Maybe an Alpha. But Michael? He's not one."
"Don't mistake curiosity for concern," I muttered. "But the wedding, that's another story. Do you know anything I could do to stop it?"
He slipped on a shirt from a wooden stand and began walking. I followed.
"If our warriors don't find Michael, the Watchers will," he said with certainty. "You know how ruthless they are. Silver weapons. No mercy. He's doomed either way."
Then his voice dropped, sly and quiet. "But there is something you can do about the marriage."
I narrowed my eyes, unsure if he was serious—he was known for teasing.
"Leave the pack tonight," he offered. "Find a human settlement, go into hiding. Life on the run. Or kill Seth when you're alone with him tomorrow. Your father won't kill you, but he'll be enraged. The punishment might be harsh—and our pack would go to war with Moonfall—but you'd be free."
I stared at him. "Are you insane? You think I can just walk out of here? Be serious, dimwit."
He shrugged, voice suddenly serious. "The Alpha said when he got to the Gamma's murder scene, Michael fled. But think about it—if Augustus wanted to stop him, he could've. Don't you think he let Michael go?"
As we neared the Red Ring, the lake shimmered under the sun, surrounded by elegant swaying grasses. We sat in silence for a moment, the stillness oddly soothing.
"Why send people after Michael if he let him go?" I asked.
"We all suspect the truth," Nathaniel said. "The Alpha sees Michael like a son. He's trying to protect him while upholding the law. Letting him escape, but still calling for justice. It's a delicate balance."
I waved him off. "Enough. I'm over it. Tell me a story, will you? How about that Reece girl who seduced you last week?"
He grinned wide. Mischief sparkled in his eyes.