ELENA
"Silverclaw," Derek said.
It was quiet. Just the word. One word, one name—but it detonated in my mind like a stone cracking glass.
Silverclaw.
I blinked at him.
Moonstone’s generational enemy.
The pack our grandparents warned us about. The one they said would slit our throats in our sleep if we let our guard down. I had grown up hearing whispers about them, warnings coated in blood and fear.
And Derek—the man I had just recently f****d in an alley, the one who made my wolf howl with need and recognition—was their Alpha.
My heart thudded.
"You’re the Alpha of Silverclaw," I repeated slowly.
He nodded. Calm. Steady. No shame, no flinch. Just truth.
I sat back into the leather seat of his private jet and stared at him for a full beat. My brain flipped through every warning, e
