BATISTA (First Person POV)
Morning came like a slap in the face.
I dragged myself out of bed, threw on my usual Alpha face—the one that made half the women in this pack lose their damn minds—and buried that dream, along with the seer's words, deep where it couldn't reach me. I wasn't about to let it get in my head today.
Keeping busy was the plan.
I spent the morning locked in meetings with the Elders, listening to them argue over land disputes and border patrols like it was the goddamn end of the world. By noon, I was with my Luna and our kids, and honestly… after last night's dream, seeing their faces felt like air in my lungs. I'd rather be a nobody in this world and have them safe than be Alpha and lose everything.
I wasn't playing around today either. I checked on the soldiers, chased a few rogue wolves out of our borders, settled a fight over livestock, and even stopped by to see Dan. Poor bastard was still nursing a shattered heart over Rain.
I wanted to tell him about the dream, about what the seer said. But her warning was clear: no one. So, I settled for a half-truth.
"Dan, me and the family are taking a little vacation," I told him as we sat on his porch with a couple of beers.
"Vacation? What the hell you talkin' about, man? We don't take vacations. This is Chicago. Wolves don't do Cancun." He smirked.
I chuckled. "It's just for a month. I want the kids to see the world. Hell, they've never been outta this city."
He gave me a look. "And the concubines too?"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Yeah, even them. Can't have them feeling left out."
But then he sobered up. "Who's running the pack?"
I sighed, leaning back. "You. I need you to hold it down, man. I'll ask the Elders to guide you, but it's you I trust."
He didn't answer for a beat, just nodded. "Yeah… yeah, alright."
By the time I got home, it was damn near seven. I'd barely eaten all day, so I tore through my dinner like a starving dog before calling a family meeting. Told them we were all going to Santorini. A big ol' family vacation. Left out the part about the danger. About the dream. About the fact I was moving them out of harm's way.
I'd tell them when we got to Texas. When I was sure they were safe.
Afterward, I headed to my chambers, ready to drop dead into my bed. But Cain intercepted me at the door.
"Good evening, Alpha," he greeted, a little too cautious.
I frowned. "What is it, Cain?" I knew that look. He had something.
"Lady Victoria is inside. I tried to stop her but—"
"It's fine," I cut him off, waving him away. No use throwing the poor guy to the wolves—literally.
I braced myself, took a breath, and pushed open the door.
There she was, sprawled out on my bed like some bargain bin Marilyn Monroe, wearing a sheer black net number that left exactly nothing to the imagination.
"Victoria," I forced a polite smile. "What brings you here?"
She stood, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips as she walked toward me, placing a hand on my chest. "I came to keep you company. You barely talk to me. I'm supposed to be your concubine, Batista, but I don't even know you. Don't you think we should… get to know each other?" Her voice dropped into something low and husky.
I grabbed her hand, patted it warmly, keeping my tone even. "You're right. I should've made more of an effort. That's on me."
I gestured to the single cushion in the room. "Please, sit."
She hesitated, then reluctantly perched on the edge of it while I sat on the bed, keeping a respectable gap between us.
"So, tell me about yourself. I wanna know everything," I said.
She forced a tight smile, but I saw the calculation in her eyes. She thought she was gonna win this one.
"What do you wanna know?" she asked.
"Everything."
Before I could so much as blink, Victoria was on me. One moment she was across the room, the next she was straddling my lap like she owned it, her perfume thick and sweet, clinging to the air like a trap.
Her arms slipped around my neck, her fingers playing at the back of my hair. "We can talk later," she purred in my ear. "But I was thinking we should do this first."
Her lips were already descending toward mine, slow and deliberate — the kind of kiss meant to make a man forget every promise he ever made.
Not this man.
I caught her by the shoulders before she could seal the deal, my grip firm but careful. "I'm sorry," I said, looking her dead in the eyes. "I can't."
The flicker of surprise in her gaze was priceless, but it vanished just as fast, replaced by something darker.
"Can't or won't?" she asked, her voice like silk wrapped around a dagger.
"Does it matter?" I shrugged, gently pushing her off my lap. "The answer's the same."
"What—you don't like me? You don't think I'm beautiful?"
"Of course I like you. You're stunning. But I don't cheat on my Luna."
She scoffed. "You've got concubines littered around and I'm supposed to be one of them!"
I shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm legally bound to them. Until you're official, it's cheating. And I don't cross that line."
It was a bullshit excuse. I knew it. She knew it. But right now, I didn't care.
"That's ridiculous," she snapped, furious.
"Sorry if it doesn't sit well with you, but that's how I run things. And aren't you supposed to be mourning?" I asked, studying her face. "I thought Rain was your friend. Doesn't her passing make you sad?"
Victoria didn't even flinch. No flicker of guilt, no sorrow. She just lifted her chin, her lips curling into a cruel, careless smile.
"No, it doesn't," she said, her tone as unbothered as if we were discussing the weather. "She deserved everything that happened."
That hit a nerve, but I didn't flinch.
"Well, it does for me," I said, my voice dropping lower, dead calm but lethal beneath the surface. "Which is why you being in my bed half-naked, barely a day after she died, doesn't sit right with me."
She grabbed her coat off the bed and yanked it on.
"I need to go," she spat.
"I hope I didn't offend you," I said, my voice laced with polite indifference.
"No. Not at all." Her words were sharp, sarcastic.
She grabbed her bag and stomped to the door, pausing to glare back at me.
"When do I officially become your concubine?"
I met her gaze. "Soon."
She scoffed, slammed the door behind her.
I exhaled, leaned back against the wall, and closed my eyes.
One crisis down. God knows how many to go.
I let out a long sigh the moment Victoria slammed the door shut behind her, the sound echoing through my room like a goddamn warning bell. I ran a hand through my hair, dragging my fingers over my scalp in frustration. That woman was a handful. Always had been. Beautiful? Sure. Smart? Yeah, if manipulation counted as intelligence. But real? No. And I couldn't stand fake.
If it were up to me, she wouldn't be anywhere near my bed, much less a future concubine. But politics… yeah, politics was a bitch.
Elder Zed would lose his goddamn mind if I refused his precious daughter. And if that old bastard threw his lot in with the rebels, well, I'd be neck-deep in shit without a shovel. So yeah — I'd play the game. For now. Drag it out as long as I could.
I stood up, shrugging out of my jacket, unbuttoning my shirt halfway when it hit me.
That sharp, gut-wrenching pull in my chest, like someone took a red-hot hook and yanked it straight through my soul. My wolf, Jax, snarled deep inside me, claws scraping against the walls of my mind.
Someone just renounced the pack.
It wasn't just a feeling — it was a tearing. A cold, sharp snap inside my ribs, as if an invisible thread had been cut. My breathing hitched, my heartbeat skipped once, then thundered back in like a war drum. The air around me felt heavier, thick like smoke, and I damn near staggered.
I didn't need to ask who.
I knew.
Rain.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the nightstand like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
The maids had brought me a fresh one this morning. Good girls. They knew better than to let me run dry these days.
I unscrewed the cap and drank straight from the bottle, long, burning gulps that barely registered. I might as well have been drinking water for all the effect it had.
One bottle wouldn't cut it tonight.
I dropped the empty thing to the floor, the dull clink of glass against wood making the room feel even quieter. The silence gnawed at me, so loud it hurt my ears.
I dropped onto the bed. A single tear slipped from the corner of my eye before I even realized it. Stupid, pointless, but there it was.
She was alive.
After everything… the betrayal, the trial, the well of misery… she'd made it through. I didn't think anyone could. Hell, I didn't think she would.
But now? Now, it felt like someone had torn a piece of me away, and for the first time in years, I wasn't sure if I hated it.
If she'd just confessed. If she'd begged for mercy, atoned for her sins, I would've spared her. Banished her, maybe. But at least saved her from what they did to her.
But that was ancient history now.
All I could do was hope she stayed breathing long enough to find whatever peace the wasteland could offer — if any. Not many survived out there. Fewer came back whole.
I stared up at the ceiling, the image of Rain's face before everything went to hell filling my head. Not broken, not bloodied, not gasping for breath. Just her — laughing, sun in her hair, eyes sharp and wild like a goddamn storm.
I smiled. A real one this time.
"Moon Goddess," I whispered. "Keep your kid alive."
I closed my eyes, clutching onto that one memory, and for the first time in a long damn while… sleep took me.