Chapter 28 Chapter 28
The road to the Dragunov manor wound like a serpent through the Romanian mountains, the mist curling around the trees like a living thing. Stacy leaned back in her seat, watching the world blur past her window — stone cottages, fog-choked valleys, and forests so dark they looked endless. It had been years since she’d last set foot here, years since she’d seen the pack she once called family.
The car slowed before the iron gates of the manor — the ancestral seat of the Dragunovs, a structure that looked more like a fortress than a home. Gargoyles crouched along the roof, their wings slick with rain, and the sigil of the Dragunov line — a red crescent moon — gleamed faintly on the gate’s crest.
When the guard recognized her, his eyes widened. “Luna Stacy,” he breathed, opening the gates immediately.
She smiled faintly. Luna. That title used to mean something. Now it was just a memory of what could’ve been.
The car rolled up the stone driveway, stopping before the grand steps. Stacy stepped out, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. The cold air stung her skin, but she stood tall, smirk tugging at her painted lips. The manor loomed above her — old, beautiful, intimidating — much like the people who lived in it.
As she entered, the scent of wolves filled her nose — dominance, musk, pine, and old stone. The moment her heels hit the hall floor, heads turned.
“Stacy!” one of the pack members gasped, his face lighting up. “It’s been forever!”
Others gathered around, murmuring in excitement. Some were genuinely happy, others wary — wolves who remembered her as the alpha’s favourite protégé before she vanished without a trace.
She smiled sweetly. “Miss me?”
A few chuckled. A few didn’t. Power was still a dangerous thing here — even in greetings.
“I need to see the Alpha,” she said, her tone warm but commanding.
They exchanged glances. “He’s in his office with Viktor,” one of them said. “He’ll be glad to see you.”
I bet he will, she thought, her smirk widening as she walked down the long hallway.
The Alpha’s office was as she remembered — grand, old-fashioned, lined with mahogany and heavy books that smelled of leather and time. The fire crackled, and behind the massive oak desk sat Donavon Dragunov, Alpha of the Eastern European Pack, his presence commanding even from across the room. His silver hair gleamed in the firelight, and his piercing amber eyes locked onto her the second she entered.
Beside him stood Viktor, Stetson’s cousin — tall, lean, sharp-featured, every inch the brooding Beta. He was staring out the window, but when he saw her, his expression hardened instantly.
“Well, well,” Donavon said, rising to his feet with a booming laugh. “If it isn’t our little runaway wolf!”
Stacy’s heart warmed despite herself. She smiled and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his broad frame. “It’s good to see you again, Alpha.”
He patted her back, chuckling. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Stacy. Last time I saw you, you were a reckless pup trying to challenge my son in combat.”
She smirked. “And I would’ve won, too.”
Viktor scoffed. “You left the pack, Stacy. That’s not called winning. That’s called deserting.”
She turned her head slowly toward him, her eyes glinting like sharpened glass. “And you’re still as bitter as ever, Viktor. Tell me — still living in your cousin’s shadow?” He bared his teeth slightly, a low growl rumbling in his throat, but Donavon raised a hand. “Enough. You both haven’t changed one bit.”
He gestured to the chairs. “Sit, child. Tell me everything. I sent you to keep an eye on Stetson — how is my son?”
Stacy hesitated, crossing her legs elegantly as she sat down. Her gaze flickered between them — father and nephew, two wolves with the same hunger in their eyes, though one masked it behind authority, the other behind resentment.
“He’s… different,” she began carefully. “He’s calmer, colder. But I suppose New York does that to people.”
Viktor’s voice cut in, low and sharp. “Did he find a mate?”
Donavon looked up, suddenly alert.
Stacy smiled, slow and deliberate. “Yes. He did.”
The room went still. The old Alpha’s eyes brightened, while Viktor’s jaw clenched.
“Who?” Donavon asked eagerly.
“A human.”
The word landed like a stone.
Viktor let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “You’re joking. The son of Donavon Dragunov — bound to a human? That’s pathetic.”
Stacy shot him a warning look, but Donavon only leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable.
“Although I’m not certain. I’m not familiar with the packs in the city—if there are even any so I might be wrong,” she said softly. “Just know that he has found his mate.”
Donavon’s gaze narrowed, an odd smile curving his lips. “A human, hm? Perhaps the Moon Goddess has a strange sense of humour.” He turned toward the fire, thinking aloud. “Never thought I’d ever be more ashamed than I already am but let’s see how things would go.”
Viktor frowned. “You can’t be serious, Uncle. She’s a human. She’ll ruin him — ruin us.”
Donavon turned sharply, his voice cutting through the room. “Watch your tone, boy.”
Viktor swallowed his anger, bowing his head slightly. “Forgive me.”
The Alpha stood, his energy crackling through the air. “This is wonderful news. My son has found his Luna. Send him more letters, Viktor — tell him the pack needs him. His return is long overdue.”
Viktor’s eyes widened. “You’re not serious—”
“Now,” Donavon thundered.
The Beta clenched his fists, gave Stacy one cold look, and stormed out. When the door closed, Stacy exhaled softly.
Donavon chuckled. “Still enjoys pouting, that one. Always wanted to be Alpha.”
“I noticed,” Stacy said, lips curving faintly.
He walked around the desk and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done well. Truly. I’m proud of you. When Stetson returns, the Dragunovs will be whole again. My son may have abandoned his dutyand mated a weakling, but the bond of blood cannot be severed.”
Her chest tightened. She wanted to tell him the truth — that Stetson didn’t plan to come back, that he was haunted by the pack’s cruelty and his father’s coldness. But instead, she forced a smile. “He’ll come back,” she lied.
Donavon nodded, satisfied. “Good. That’s all I need to hear.”
He dismissed her with a warm smile, and she bowed before turning toward the door, she left.
But before she could reach the elevator, the shadows shifted.Viktor was leaning against the wall, waiting. “Eavesdropping again?” she said, closing the door behind her with a sigh.
“Just wanted to say hello.” His voice dripped sarcasm.
She laughed softly, brushing past him, but he caught her wrist, pulling her back. She turned sharply, their faces inches apart. His grip was firm, his eyes hard.
“You think you’re clever,” he said darkly. “Running back here with your little reports. But you’re just as foolish as you were when you left.”
Her gaze flicked down to his hand, then back to his face. “Let go, Viktor. Before I remind you who taught you how to fight.”
He didn’t move. His body pressed slightly closer, his tone lowering to a growl. “Tell me — how does it feel, Stacy? Watching the man you wanted choose someone else?”
Her lips curved into a smirk, but her eyes flashed. “You’re jealous. Not because of me, but because it’s him. You can’t stand that he’s still the Alpha’s favourite.”
Stacy had always had Viktor as her enemy ever since she realized he pursued the alpha position. She wanted Stetson to rule with her as his Luna while Viktor wanted to rule all by himself—their past relationship long forgotten.
Viktor’s jaw tightened. “You think he’ll come back? You think Donavon will hand him the title after years of absence?”
“I don’t think,” she said coolly, leaning closer until her lips brushed his ear. “I know.” His breath hitched.
She trailed her hand down his chest, slow, deliberate. “And when he does, you’ll still be here — waiting for scraps.”
Viktor slammed his palm against the wall beside her head, caging her in. His breath was rough, his scent thick with fury. “You’ve got a sharp tongue, Stacy. One day it’ll get you killed.”
“Maybe,” she whispered, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “But not today.”
Her fingers curled around his suit collar, tugging him slightly forward. Her lips hovered near his, her voice low, teasing. “You worry about the wrong things, Viktor. Don’t waste your time on me.”
His eyes darkened. “And what should I worry about?”
She smiled, stepping back just enough to make him chase her with his gaze. “The throne. Because Stetson’s coming back to claim it.”
She bit her bottom lip — slow, deliberate — before turning on her heel and walking away, the click of her heels echoing like a warning.
Viktor stood there in silence, fists clenched, his wolf growling just beneath the surface.
And as Stacy disappeared down the hall, her smirk returned.