The Blackwood estate stood scarred but unbroken.
Smoke still curled from the burned sections of the forest, the air thick with the scent of charred pine, blood, and the heavy musk of victory. Dawn painted the cliffs in bruised purples and golds, the Puget Sound churning restlessly below like it sensed the fragile peace.
Damien Blackwood stood on the master balcony like a conqueror, blood still drying on his chest and arms, silver threading his dark hair catching the early light. The Alpha radiated raw power — broad shoulders tense, jaw set, bourbon eyes glowing with the afterglow of battle and possession.
I knelt at his feet, naked except for the silk robe hanging open around my heavily pregnant body. My swollen belly rested on my thighs, skin stretched tight over the life he had put in
