The scratching started just after midnight, when the blizzard was at its worst, and Ivory had finally convinced herself she might survive another night alone in her mountain cabin. She’d been stirring a pot of venison stew over the fire, trying to ignore the howling wind that made the wooden walls creek and groan, like they might give up and collapse at any moment. 3 years she’d lived in this isolated place.

 3 years of solitude and silence, broken only by the sounds of nature and her own voice, when the loneliness got so bad she had to talk to herself just to remember what human speech sounded like. The scratching came again, more insistent this time, accompanied by a low whine that cut through the storm’s fury.

 Ivory froze with her wooden spoon halfway to her mouth, her heart suddenly pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. Nothing came to her cabin. Nothing ever came here. That was the whole point of living so far from civilization, so deep in the wilderness that even the heartiest trappers avoided this region. She’d chosen isolation deliberately, had walked for two weeks into the mountains after her pack had cast her out, searching for a place so remote that she’d never accidentally hurt anyone again.

 The scratching turned to heavy thuds against the door, desperate and rhythmic. Something was out there, something big. Ivory set down her spoon with trembling hands and moved toward the door, her pale fingers ghosting over the rough wood. Her breath came in short gasps, fogging in the cold air that seeped through every crack in the cabin’s walls.

 She was terrified, but she was also a healer at heart, and that desperate sound pulled at something deep inside her that 3 years of isolation hadn’t managed to kill. She shouldn’t open the door. Every survival instinct screamed at her to stay inside, to let whatever was out there freeze or leave or do anything except come into her space. But Ivory had learned the hard way that sometimes the right thing and the safe thing weren’t the same.

 And she’d spent three years punishing herself for deaths that maybe, just maybe, hadn’t been her fault after all. The bolt slid back with a metallic click that sounded impossibly loud. The door swung inward, and Ivory stumbled back as a wave of snow and freezing wind slammed into her along with something else.

 Something massive and white and covered in ice. 12 white wolves poured into her cabin like a flood of winter itself, their enormous bodies filling the small space until ivory was pressed back against the far wall, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. They were the largest wolves she’d ever seen, each one easily twice the size of a normal wolf, with thick white fur that seemed to glow even in the dim firelight.

 Their eyes were various shades of blue and silver, pale and striking. And they were all watching her with an intelligence that made her skin prickle with awareness. These weren’t ordinary wolves. These were shifters. Had to be. No natural animal moved with such coordinated purpose.

 No natural animal looked at you with such calculating awareness, but they weren’t shifting to human form, which meant they either couldn’t or wouldn’t, and Ivory didn’t know which possibility scared her more. The largest wolf, a massive beast with ice blue eyes that seemed to see straight through to her soul, moved forward slowly. He was at least 4t tall at the shoulder with a thick rough of fur around his neck and a bearing that screamed alpha even in his animal form.

He stopped 3 ft from her and sat, his gaze never leaving hers, waiting. The others arranged themselves around the room, shaking off snow and ice, their movements controlled despite their obvious exhaustion. Ivory pressed herself harder against the wall, her mind racing. She should be terrified. She should be screaming or fighting or doing something other than standing here frozen like prey.

But looking at these magnificent creatures, seeing the exhaustion in their eyes, and the way they trembled from cold despite their thick winter coats, all she could think about was that they were dying. They’d been caught in the blizzard, had somehow made it to her cabin, and if she turned them away, they’d freeze to death within the hour.

and she’d already caused enough death for one lifetime. Ivory’s own curse had started innocently enough. She’d been 21 when Marcus, a young alpha from her pack, had fallen in love with her despite her strange appearance. She’d been born different, that was clear from the moment she took her first breath.

 Pure white hair, skin so pale it was almost translucent, eyes the color of ice, and a small frame even for an omega. Her mother had died during childbirth, and her father, unable to look at the daughter who’d cost him his mate, had drunk himself to death before Ivory turned two. She’d been raised by her grandmother, a tough old wolf who’d loved her fiercely, but had always warned her that being different came with a price.

 Marcus hadn’t cared about her appearance. He’d loved her wit, her kindness, her skill with healing herbs, and her gentle way with wounded animals. When he’d asked her to be his mate, she’d said yes without hesitation, thinking maybe finally she’d found someone who saw past her cursive appearance to the person underneath. The marking ceremony had been beautiful.

Marcus had bitten her neck gently, making the bond that would tie them together for life. Ivory had felt the connection snap into place, warm and perfect, and everything she’d ever dreamed of. They’d celebrated with the pack, made love in their new home, fallen asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. Marcus had been dead by morning.

 The pack healers said it was a heart attack, sudden and violent, impossible to predict. But Ivory had seen the way people looked at her at his funeral, the whispers that followed her everywhere. the pale Omega and her marked mate, dead before the bond could even settle. It was unnatural, cursed. She’d grieved alone, devastated and confused, wondering if she’d somehow caused it.

 But the rational part of her mind insisted it was just terrible timing, a tragedy, but not her fault. Hearts failed sometimes. People died. It wasn’t her curse. Then Cain had insisted on courting her. Cain was a beta, solid and kind, who’d been Marcus’ best friend. He told Ivory he didn’t believe in curses, that Marcus’ death was just bad luck, and she deserved a second chance at happiness.

 She’d resisted for 6 months, terrified of losing someone else. But Cain had been persistent and gentle, and eventually she’d given in. The marking ceremony was smaller this time, more private, just a few witnesses instead of the whole pack. Cain had marked her at sunset and they’d spent the night in his cabin, Ivory trying to silence the voice in her head that kept whispering that this was a mistake. Cain had been dead by dawn.

Heart attack, the healers said again, 2 days after marking Ivory. That’s when the pack had turned on her completely. The pale widow, they’d called her death’s bride, cursed by the moon goddess to kill any male who tried to claim her. The alpha had given her a choice. Leave voluntarily or be executed as a threat to the pack.

She’d left that same day, walking into the mountains with nothing but a pack of supplies and the clothes on her back, determined to die alone rather than kill anyone else. But she hadn’t died. She’d survived, found this cabin, learned to live in total isolation, and she’d been alone ever since, convincing herself it was better this way. safer.

 The only way to protect anyone from the curse she carried. Now these 12 wolves were in her cabin, their eyes on her, their lives in her hands. If they were shifters and they marked her, they’d die. But they were in wolf form, which meant marking wasn’t an option, and maybe, just maybe, she could help them survive the blizzard without anyone else dying because of her.

 The decision made itself. Ivory took a shaking breath and moved slowly away from the wall, keeping her movements careful and non-threatening. The big alpha’s eyes tracked her, but he didn’t move, just watched as she retrieved her medical supplies from the cabinet near the door. She spent the next hour checking each wolf for injuries.

 Her gentle hands running through thick white fur, looking for wounds or signs of frostbite. Most of them were just exhausted and cold, but three had minor injuries from what looked like a rock slide. Deep gashes that would need cleaning and binding. Two showed signs of severe hypothermia despite their thick coats, their breathing too shallow and their heartbeats too slow. The rest were simply pushed beyond their limits, muscles trembling with exhaustion.

 Ivory worked methodically, falling into the familiar rhythm of healing that she’d learned from her grandmother. She cleaned wounds with warm water and her precious store of antiseptic herbs, applied salves that would fight infection and speed healing, used strips of cloth to bind the worst gashes. She built up the fire until the cabin was almost uncomfortably warm.

 Knowing the wolves needed heat to recover, she fed them her entire pot of stew and most of her dried meat, watching them eat with the efficiency of trained soldiers who’d learned to take sustenance whenever it was offered. Through it all, the big alpha never left her side. He followed her from wolf to wolf, watching her work with those intense ice blue eyes, and whenever she moved back toward the fire, he was right there, his massive body, a warm presence just behind her. The other wolves seemed to take their cues from him, relaxing as he relaxed, accepting

her touch because he deemed her safe. By the time she’d finished treating everyone, Ivory was exhausted, and the blizzard outside had intensified to the point where she couldn’t see more than a foot beyond the windows. Snow was piling up against the cabin walls, the wind screaming like something alive and angry.

 They’d be trapped here for days, at least, maybe a week if the storm kept up. She looked at the 12 enormous wolves now sprawled around her small cabin, taking up every available inch of floor space, and felt a laugh bubble up in her throat. It came out half hysterical, tinged with exhaustion and the surreal absurdity of her situation.

 3 years of isolation, and now her cabin was full of the biggest wolves she’d ever seen. All of them watching her with disturbingly intelligent eyes. The alpha made a sound that was almost a chuckle, a huffing noise that made his whole body shake. Then he moved to the rug in front of the fire and laid down, his massive head resting on his paws.

The others followed his lead, arranging themselves around the room in a loose pack formation. Two of the smaller ones curled up together near the door. Three others claimed the space beneath the window. The rest spread out in the remaining floor space. All of them settling in like they’d done this a thousand times before.

Ivory stood in the middle of her now crowded cabin, feeling more confused than scared. She should probably be terrified, should be wondering what would happen when they shifted back to human form. But looking at these magnificent creatures, seeing them relax and begin to drift toward sleep, all she felt was a strange sense of rightness, like something that had been missing had suddenly clicked into place.

 She was too tired to analyze it. She banked the fire, wrapped herself in her warmest blanket, and climbed into her small bed in the corner of the cabin. The big alpha immediately rose and patted over, settling himself on the floor right next to her bed.

 his massive body a warm barrier between her and the rest of the pack. Ivory reached down without thinking and buried her fingers in his thick fur, marveling at how soft it was despite looking so coarse. The wolf made a rumbling sound of contentment and pressed closer to her touch. Ivory fell asleep with her hands still tangled in white fur.

 Feeling safer than she had in 3 years, she woke to find the cabin warmer and the storm still raging outside. Gray morning light filtered through the ice covered windows, illuminating her unusual house guests. Most of the wolves were still sleeping. Exhausted bodies sprawled in unggainainely positions that would have been funny if they weren’t also somewhat majestic.

 The alpha was awake, his ice blue eyes watching her with an intensity that should have been unnerving, but somehow wasn’t. Ivory extracted herself carefully from her blankets, and set about making breakfast. She had enough supplies for maybe a week if she rationed carefully, which meant feeding 12 enormous wolves was going to deplete her stores faster than she’d like. But she couldn’t let them starve.

 And besides, once the storm passed, they’d probably leave, and she’d be alone again. She could worry about restocking then. She made a massive pot of oatmeal mixed with dried berries and honey, using up most of her grain stores in one go. The wolves woke one by one, as the smell of food filled the cabin, stretching and yawning and looking around with alert eyes.

 They ate the oatmeal from the bowls, she set out, their table manners surprisingly good for animals, and Ivory found herself watching them with fascination. They really were beautiful. Their white fur was thick and luxurious, unmarred by any darker colors.

 Their eyes ranged from pale blue to deep sapphire to silver gray, each set unique and striking. They moved with coordinated grace, even in the cramped space, never bumping into each other or her, always aware of exactly where everyone was. Military precision in wolf form. The second day passed in a strange domestic rhythm. Ivory checked their wounds and was pleased to see them healing faster than normal, which confirmed they were shifters with enhanced healing. She talked to them as she worked, her voice filling the silence she’d kept for 3 years.

She told them about her grandmother’s healing techniques, about the herbs she grew in the summer months, about the strange peace she’d found in isolation. She didn’t tell them about her curse, didn’t mention Marcus or Cain, or the reason she lived alone. That was her burden to carry, and they’d be gone soon anyway.

 The wolves listened with remarkable attention. They couldn’t talk back, couldn’t shift to human form for reasons she didn’t understand, but they were clearly intelligent. They brought her firewood from the covered pile outside, taking turns braving the brutal storm to drag logs back.

 They arranged themselves to help conserve heat, their large bodies acting as living barriers against the cold air that seeped through the cabin’s walls. The alpha stayed by her side constantly, his presence both protective and oddly comforting. By the third day, Ivory had started naming them in her head. She couldn’t help it. They had such distinct personalities that she couldn’t keep thinking of them as just wolves.

 The alpha she called Frost, both for his coloring and the icy intensity of his gaze. The two who always curled up together, she named snow and ice, a bonded pair who moved like they shared one mind. The three near the window became dawn, mist, and cloud. The others were storm, winter, north, silver, pale, and ghost.

 She knew it was dangerous to name them. Naming meant attachment, and attachment meant pain when they left. But she couldn’t stop herself. For three days these wolves had been her only company, and despite the circumstances, despite the strangeness of it all, she’d felt less lonely than she had in years. On the fourth morning, Ivory woke to silence.

 The blizzard had passed, leaving behind a world buried in white. Brilliant sunshine streamed through the windows, making the snow outside sparkle like diamonds. It was beautiful and terrible because it meant her guests would be leaving. She sat up in bed and found the cabin empty except for Frost, who was sitting exactly where he’d been when she fell asleep, watching her with those unnervingly intelligent eyes.

 Her heart clenched. They were already gone. All of them except the alpha. And he’d probably leave too once he was sure she was all right. Ivory forced herself out of bed, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders against the lingering cold. She didn’t look at Frost as she moved to the window, staring out at the pristine snowscape.

 The storm had dumped at least 4 ft of new snow, drifting higher in places where the wind had piled it against trees and rocks. It would take days to dig out, and her path to the nearest trading post was completely buried. She heard movement behind her and turned to find Frost had risen and was padding toward the door. This was it. He was leaving.

 She’d be alone again. Ivory forced herself to smile, to act like this was fine, like she hadn’t spent 3 days pretending these wolves were her pack. But Frost didn’t scratch at the door to be let out. Instead, he sat down facing it and made a low chuffing sound. Almost immediately, the door swung open and 12 men walked in. All of them completely naked and absolutely stunning.

 Ivory’s blanket dropped from nerveless fingers. They were all tall, easily over 6 ft, with the kind of muscular builds that came from years of warrior training. Their hair ranged from platinum blonde to white blonde, and their eyes were the same striking shades she’d seen in wolf form. But it was the man in front who made her breath catch in her throat, who made her heart stutter and her wolf howl with recognition deep inside her mind.

He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Platinum blonde hair fell to his shoulders in thick waves. His face was all sharp angles and strong lines with a jaw that looked carved from marble and lips that were somehow both hard and soft. His body was pure muscle, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and long legs.

 And his eyes, those ice blue eyes, were fixed on her with an intensity that made her knees weak. He was also the alpha she’d been calling Frost, and he was currently kneeling naked in her doorway. The man spoke, his voice deep and rich with an accent she couldn’t quite place. My name is Kristoff, Alpha King of the Northern Crown Pack. These are my elite guard. You saved our lives when you could have left us to freeze.

 You fed us when you barely had enough for yourself. You healed our wounds and kept us warm and asked for nothing in return. By the laws of the moon goddess and the rights of my position, I claim you as my intended mate and ask for your hand in joining with me to rule my pack as my Luna and queen.

 Ivory stared at him, her mind refusing to process what she was hearing. Alpha King, elite guard, intended mate, Luna. None of those words made sense. Not in relation to her, not in any universe where logic existed. I can’t, she whispered, her voice cracking on the words. You don’t understand. I can’t be anyone’s mate. I can’t mark or be marked. I’ll kill you.

 Kristoff rose to his feet in one smooth motion, and Ivory had to force herself not to step back. He was so big, so intimidating, so impossibly male, standing there naked and unashamed in her cabin. He moved toward her slowly, like approaching a skittish animal, his hands raised in a peaceful gesture. “I know about your curse,” he said gently. “I know about Marcus and Cain.

 I know what your pack called you and why you ran. And I know the truth that they didn’t. The truth that I’ve spent two years searching for. Ivory’s legs gave out and she sat down hard on her bed, staring up at him with wide eyes. What truth? Kristoff knelt in front of her, bringing himself down to her level, his ice blue eyes locked on hers. You’re not cursed, Ivory.

 You’re blessed. You’re a true mate, Omega. One of the rarest gifts the moon goddess can give. You can’t be marked by just anyone. Your body rejects bonds that aren’t meant to be, protecting you from false mings. Marcus and Cain died because they tried to force a connection that was never supposed to exist.

 Their hearts couldn’t handle the rejection of the mate bond when your soul recognized they weren’t your true match. She shook her head violently, tears starting to stream down her pale cheeks. That’s not possible. The healers said it was their hearts. They said I had nothing to do with it. The healers didn’t know what to look for, one of the other men said, stepping forward.

 He was slightly shorter than Kristoff, with silver blonde hair and kind gray eyes. I’m Sterling, the pax head healer. True mate Omegas are so rare that most healers never see one in their entire lives. The signs are subtle. A regular heart attack leaves specific damage to the heart muscle. A mate bond rejection leaves no physical damage at all.

 The heart simply stops because the soul can’t bear the wrongness of the bond. It looks identical to outside observers, but the cause is completely different. Ivory looked between them, wanting desperately to believe, but terrified of the hope blooming in her chest. How do you know I’m this true mate, Omega? How can you be sure? Kristoff reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and took her hands in his.

 His skin was warm against her perpetual chill, his touch gentle despite the strength she could feel in his fingers. Because I’ve been searching for you for 2 years. My mother was a seer. Before she died, she told me about the pale Omega who lived alone in the mountains, cursed by her pack, but blessed by the moon goddess. She said I’d know you by your appearance and your gift.

 Hair like moonlight, skin like snow, eyes like ice, and hands that heal what others can’t. She said you’d save me when I was at my weakest, and that you’d be the only one who could complete my soul. He squeezed her hands gently. We weren’t caught in that blizzard by accident, Ivory. We were on our way to find you when the storm hit. The moon goddess herself led us to your door because it was time for us to meet.

 Time for you to stop running from a curse that was never real and accept the blessing you’ve always had. But what if you’re wrong? Ivory whispered, her voice breaking. What if I mark you and you die, too? I can’t do that again. I can’t lose someone else. I can’t be responsible for more death. Kristoff released one of her hands to cup her face, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. Then don’t mark me yet.

Let me court you. Let me prove I’m your true mate. We’ll take as long as you need, weeks, months, years if necessary. I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes for you to trust me, to trust this. One of the other men cleared his throat. “Um, Alpha, we’re all still naked and it’s freezing in here. Maybe we could continue this conversation after we shift back and find some clothes.

” Ivory let out a startled laugh, the sound surprising her. She’d forgotten the other 11 men were still standing there, all of them nude and probably freezing despite their supernatural constitution. Kristoff grinned, and the expression transformed his face from intimidating to devastating. “Right, sorry. Priorities.” He looked back at Ivory.

 “Do you have any spare clothes, or should we shift back to wolf form until we can return to our camp?” “I have my grandmother’s trunk,” Ivory said, standing on shaky legs. “She was a large woman and kept my grandfather’s clothes after he died. They might fit some of you. She dug through the old cedar trunk in the corner, pulling out wool pants and thick shirts, heavy socks and spare blankets. The elite guard dressed quickly, their movements efficient and coordinated.

 None of them seemed bothered by the casual nudity or the cramped quarters. They moved like they’d been working together for years, anticipating each other’s needs and staying out of each other’s way with practiced ease. Kristoff ended up in clothes that were slightly too small.

 the pants stopping above his ankles and the shirt straining across his broad shoulders. He looked ridiculous and unfairly attractive at the same time. Ivory found herself staring at him and had to force her eyes away. The next week passed in a strange sort of domesticity that Ivory had never experienced before. Kristoff and his elite guard stayed at her cabin, working to dig out from the blizzard and make sure the structure was sound.

 They hunted fresh meat to replenish her stores. They repaired the damage the storm had caused to her roof and walls. They chopped enough firewood to last her through the next three winters. And Kristoff courted her with a patience and gentleness that made her heart ache.

 He told her about his life as alpha king, about inheriting the position at 23 when his parents were killed in a territorial dispute with a rival pack, about the pressure to find a Luna and produce heirs, about meeting Omega after Omega, who wanted the title but didn’t want him, who were attracted to his power but not his person. He told her about his elite guard, Sterling, the healer, wise and kind.

 Asher and River, the bonded pair she’d named Snow and Ice, who’d been together since childhood. Finn, Marcus, Leo, Grant, Cole, Adrien, Blake, and Sage. Each one a skilled warrior with their own personality and history. They’d all been with him for years, some since before he became king. and they’d volunteered to help search for the pale omega his mother had prophesied about.

In return, Ivory told him about her life, about her mother dying in childbirth and her father drinking himself to death, about her grandmother raising her with fierce love despite the pack’s suspicion of her appearance. About learning to heal because her grandmother insisted every omega should have skills beyond breeding.

 about Marcus and Cain and the devastating guilt that had driven her into isolation. Kristoff listened to everything without judgment, his ice blue eyes soft with understanding. He never pushed her to talk about painful subjects, but he was always ready to listen when she needed to speak.

 He was patient in a way she’d never experienced, content to move at her pace, even though she knew claiming her as his Luna was important for his pack’s stability. The elite guard treated her like she was already their Luna. They called her my lady and bowed slightly when she entered a room. They asked her opinion on pack matters and listened seriously to her answers. They brought her small gifts from their hunting trips, unusual stones, interesting feathers, a perfect pine cone.

 They were establishing pack bonds with her, making her feel like she belonged. And it was working. Ivory found herself falling in love with all of them. Not romantically, but as Pack, she learned their personalities, their quirks, their histories. Asher was quiet, but had a dry sense of humor that made her laugh. River was playful and often challenged the others to wrestling matches in the snow.

Sterling liked to discuss healing techniques and was fascinated by her grandmother’s herbal knowledge. Finn was the best cook and often took over her kitchen to make elaborate meals. But it was Kristoff who owned her heart. She fell in love with him slowly, piece by piece, moment by moment. The way he played in the snow with his guard, laughing like a child.

 The way he insisted on doing his share of chores despite being king. The way he asked her permission before entering her space, respecting her boundaries even though he could easily overwhelm them. The way he looked at her like she was precious, like her pale appearance wasn’t a curse, but a gift. Two weeks after the blizzard, Ivory woke to find her cabin empty again.

 Panic seized her heart until she saw the note on the table in Kristoff’s precise handwriting. Good morning, love. We’ve returned to camp to check on things and gather proper supplies. We’ll be back by evening. There’s fresh bread in the basket and venison stew on the coals. You’re not alone anymore. I promise. K. Ivory clutched the note to her chest and cried, overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t name. She wasn’t alone.

 For the first time in 3 years, she wasn’t alone. They returned at sunset as promised, carrying packs full of supplies and wearing huge grins. Kristoff swept her into his arms and spun her around, his laughter warm against her ear. Did you miss us? Maybe a little, Ivory admitted, trying to sound casual and failing completely. She’d missed them desperately, even for just one day.

 The cabin had felt empty and cold without their presence. That night, Kristoff asked if he could sleep in her bed instead of on the floor in wolf form. “Just sleep,” he promised. “I won’t push for anything you’re not ready for, but I want to hold you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up with you beside me.

 Will you let me? Ivory knew it was dangerous. Knew she was getting too attached, too hopeful, too willing to believe this might actually work, but she was tired of being scared. Tired of running from the possibility of happiness because of fear. “Yes,” she whispered. Kristoff’s smile could have lit up the entire night. He climbed into her small bed, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.

He was so warm, so solid, so there. Ivory pressed her face against his neck and breathed in his scent, pine and snow, and something uniquely him. His hand stroked her white hair gently, his touch reverent. “I love you,” he murmured into the darkness. “I’ve loved you since that first night when you let us into your home.” despite your fear.

When you healed our wounds with gentle hands and asked for nothing in return. When you sang to us like we were precious instead of dangerous. I love your strength and your kindness and your resilience. I love everything about you, Ivory. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of you. Ivory’s breath hitched.

 She wanted to say it back. Wanted to tell him she loved him, too. But the words stuck in her throat, blocked by three years of fear and grief. Instead, she pressed closer and held him tighter, hoping he could feel what she couldn’t yet say. Days turned into weeks. The elite guard rotated between staying at the cabin and returning to their camp. But Kristoff never left.

 He stayed by Ivory’s side constantly, helping her with her daily tasks, teaching her about pack politics, learning her preferences and habits. They fell into an easy rhythm, like they’d been together for years instead of weeks. Ivory’s gift started manifesting more strongly with Kristoff around.

 She’d always had an affinity for healing, but now she could sense injuries before seeing them, could feel where pack members were hurting, and what they needed. When River twisted his ankle during a training exercise, she knew instantly and had him sit down before he could worsen the damage. When Sterling developed a headache from too much reading, she made him exactly the right herbal tea without him saying a word.

“Your gift is growing,” Kristoff observed one evening as they sat by the fire. “You’re becoming who you were always meant to be.” Ivory looked down at her pale hands, turning them over in the fire light. My grandmother said I had the strongest healing gift she’d ever seen. She said the moon goddess marked me pale so everyone would know I was meant to be a healer, that my coloring was a badge of honor, not a curse. But the pack saw it differently.

 Your grandmother was right, Kristoff said firmly. In the Northern Crown Pack, we honor our healers above everyone except the Alpha and Luna. They’re the most valuable members of the pack because they keep everyone alive and healthy. You’d be celebrated there, not shunned. Something in Ivory’s chest loosened. A knot she’d been carrying for so long she’d forgotten it was there.

 Would you really want me as your Luna? Knowing I’m different, knowing I might never look like a normal omega. Kristoff turned to her, taking her face in both his hands, his ice blue eyes intense. Ivory, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Your hair is like moonlight. Your skin is like fresh snow.

 Your eyes are like glacial ice. You’re absolutely breathtaking. And anyone who told you otherwise was blind and stupid. I want you exactly as you are. I don’t want you to change a single thing about yourself. I want the pale Omega who lives alone in the mountains and heals wolves and makes terrible jokes while cooking.

 I want all of you forever. Ivory kissed him. She couldn’t help it. She’d been wanting to kiss him for weeks, and his words broke through the last of her resistance. She pressed her lips to his and poured three years of loneliness and longing into it. Three years of believing she was cursed and unwanted and wrong. Kristoff kissed her back with a gentleness that made her want to cry.

His lips moved against hers, thoroughly like they had all the time in the world. His hands stayed on her face, cradling her like she was precious and fragile. He didn’t push for more. Didn’t try to deepen the kiss into something she wasn’t ready for. He just kissed her like she was his entire world.

 When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Kristoff rested his forehead against hers. “Does this mean you believe me? That you’re willing to try?” “I’m scared,” Ivory admitted. “I’m terrified of losing you, but I love you too much to keep running. So, yes, I’ll try. I’ll come to your pack and see if this can work.

” “It will work,” Kristoff said with absolute certainty. “Because you’re mine and I’m yours.” And the moon goddess doesn’t make mistakes. They left for the northern crown pack. 3 days later, Ivory packed her most precious belongings, her grandmother’s healing journals, her medicine supplies, a few changes of clothes.

 Kristoff promised they’d send people back for everything else, that her cabin would be maintained in case she ever wanted to return. But Ivory knew she wouldn’t. Whatever happened, she couldn’t go back to isolation. She’d tasted belonging and she’d never settle for loneliness again. The journey took 5 days through mountain passes and deep forests. The elite guard shifted to wolf form to carry supplies, their white fur standing out brilliantly against the dark trees.

 Kristoff stayed human, walking beside Ivory and pointing out landmarks, telling her stories about his territory. He held her hand the entire way, his grip warm and reassuring. The northern crown packs territory was stunning. They lived in a valley surrounded by snowcapped peaks with a huge lodge built from timber and stone that looked like it had grown out of the mountain itself.

 Smaller cabins dotted the landscape, smoke rising from chimneys in thin gray ribbons. Wolves in both human and animal form moved through the settlement, all of them stopping to stare as their alpha king returned with a stranger. Ivory’s hand tightened on Kristoff’s arm as they entered the main lodge. Hundreds of eyes watched her, curious and assessing.

 She saw shock register on faces as they took in her appearance, saw whispers start immediately. She wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted to be anywhere but here where everyone could see how different she was. But Kristoff pulled her closer, his arms solid around her waist. “Northern crown pack,” he called out, his voice carrying through the entire lodge.

 “This is Ivory, the pale Omega of Prophecy. She saved my life and the lives of my elite guard during the blizzard. She’s been chosen by the moon goddess to be my Luna and your queen. Anyone who disrespects her disrespects me. Anyone who harms her signs their own death warrant. She is under my protection and my claim and she will be treated with the honor due her position.

Silence followed his declaration, thick and tense. Then an elderly woman with silver hair stepped forward, her eyes kind despite her age. About time you found her, boy. Your mother told me about the pale Omega 20 years ago. Said she’d be the making or breaking of this pack. I see the making in her eyes. Welcome home, child.

 We’ve been waiting for you. The old woman’s acceptance seemed to break the tension. Other pack members came forward, introducing themselves, welcoming her. Not everyone was immediately warm. Ivory could see suspicion and doubt in some eyes, but no one was openly hostile. They were willing to give her a chance, at least.

 Kristoff took her to his private chambers in the lodge. They were large and comfortable with huge windows overlooking the valley and a massive bed covered in furs. This is yours now, too, he said. If you want separate rooms, I’ll have one prepared. If you want to share, I’d be honored. Whatever makes you comfortable. I want to share,” Ivory said quietly.

 She’d gotten used to sleeping beside him, and the thought of being alone in a strange room made her anxious. The next few weeks were an adjustment. Ivory had to learn pack hierarchy, pack customs, pack politics. She had to meet hundreds of wolves and remember names and faces. She had to get used to being stared at, to being the subject of gossip and speculation.

 It was overwhelming and exhausting and sometimes she wanted to run back to her cabin in the mountains. But Kristoff was there for every moment. He introduced her to important pack members. He explained traditions and helped her navigate complex social situations. He defended her when anyone questioned her worthiness. He loved her publicly and privately, making sure everyone knew she was precious to him.

And slowly the pack began to accept her. They saw how she healed their children’s scrapes with gentle hands. They saw how she consulted with Sterling to improve their medical practices. They saw how she treated everyone with kindness regardless of their rank. They saw how their alpha king looked at her like she hung the moon and how she looked at him with equal devotion.

The elderly woman, whose name was Sage, became Ivory’s unofficial grandmother. She taught Ivory about pack history and politics, about the Northern Crown’s traditions and values. She told Ivory stories about Kristoff’s mother and the prophecy that had guided his search.

 “His mother saw you in a vision when Kristoff was born,” Sage explained one afternoon as they worked together in the healing lodge. She saw a pale Omega who would save her son when he needed it most, who would heal the wounds in his heart that leadership had caused. She knew he’d have to wait years to find you. Knew he’d have to be patient.

But she also knew you’d be worth the wait. Ivory’s eyes filled with tears. I just wish I could thank her. Wish I could tell her I’ll take care of him. She knows, child. The moon goddess tells her wherever she is now, and she’s grateful her son found someone who loves him for who he is, not what he is. 3 months after arriving at the Northern Crown Pack, Ivory finally felt like she belonged.

 She had friends, responsibilities, a purpose beyond just survival. She ran the healing lodge with Sterling, training young healers and maintaining medicine stores. She advised Kristoff on Omega related issues and helped mediate disputes. She was becoming a true Luna even without being officially marked. But the fear still lived inside her.

Every time Kristoff looked at her with heat in his eyes, every time his hands lingered on her skin, every time they kissed until they were both breathless, she felt the terror rise up. What if she was wrong? What if he wasn’t her true mate? What if she marked him and he died like the others? Kristoff never pushed.

 He seemed content to wait forever if that’s what she needed. But Ivory could see the strain it caused him, the way other pack members questioned why he hadn’t completed the bond. An unmarked Luna had less authority, less respect. She was holding him back by refusing to take the final step. It was Sage who finally made her see reason.

“Child,” the old woman said one evening as they sat together watching the sunset. “You’re letting fear control your life again. You ran to the mountains because you were afraid of killing someone else. Now you’re refusing to complete your bond because you’re afraid of the same thing. But fear isn’t living.

 Fear is just another kind of death.” “But what if I’m wrong?” Ivory whispered. What if he dies? And what if he doesn’t? Sage countered. What if you waste years being afraid of something that will never happen? What if you deny yourself and him the happiness you both deserve because you can’t trust the moon goddess’s plan? That boy loves you more than his own life. He’d rather die trying to be your mate than live without you.

 Are you really going to make that choice for him? Ivory thought about it for 3 days. She watched Kristoff lead his pack with strength and wisdom. She saw how he treated everyone with fairness and compassion. She felt how he loved her, patient and constant and unwavering. She remembered how he’d waited weeks before even kissing her, how he’d courted her with gentleness and respect. He was nothing like Marcus or Cain.

 They’d been good men, but they’d been wrong for her. They’d wanted her despite her curse. Had tried to overcome it through sheer determination. But Kristoff didn’t see a curse to overcome. He saw a blessing to honor. He understood her gift because his mother had prophesied it. He valued her healing abilities because his pack needed them.

He loved her appearance because it marked her as special, chosen, meant for greatness. He was her true mate. She knew it in her bones, in her soul, in the very core of her being. The moon goddess had led 12 white wolves to her door during a blizzard so she could save them. So she could save him, so they could save each other.

 On the night of the full moon, Ivory went to Kristoff in their chambers, wearing nothing but a silk robe. He looked up from the papers he’d been reviewing, and his eyes darkened with heat when he saw her. Ivory,” he breathed, setting aside his work and standing slowly.

 “What are you doing?” “I’m ready,” she said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “I’m ready to complete the bond. I’m ready to be your Luna in every way. I’m ready to stop being afraid and start living.” Kristoff crossed the room in three long strides, pulling her into his arms and kissing her with all the passion he’d been holding back for months.

 His hands shook as they untied her robe, his touch reverent and desperate. “Are you sure?” “We can wait longer if you need to.” “I’m sure,” Ivory said firmly. “I love you,” Kristoff. “I want to be yours completely. I want everyone to know I’m your mate and your Luna and your queen. I want the bond that will tie our souls together forever.

 I’m not afraid anymore. They made love slowly, thoroughly, with a tenderness that made Ivory cry. Kristoff worshipped every inch of her pale skin, murmuring how beautiful she was, how perfect, how precious. When he finally entered her, it felt like coming home.

 like finding something she hadn’t known she was missing, like two halves of a soul finally reuniting. When the moment came to mark her, Kristoff paused, his teeth against her neck, giving her one last chance to stop this. But Ivory tilted her head to give him better access, and whispered, “I trust you. I trust us. I trust the moon goddess. Mark me.

” His teeth sank into her neck and Ivory felt the bond snap into place. It was nothing like what she’d experienced with Marcus or Cain. This wasn’t forcing a connection that didn’t want to exist. This was two souls recognizing each other, welcoming each other, completing each other. It was warm and right and perfect. And Kristoff didn’t die.

 They lay together afterward, Ivory’s head on his chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat. He was alive. He was healthy. He was hers, and she was his, and the curse was finally truly broken. I told you, Kristoff murmured, his hand stroking her white hair. The moon goddess doesn’t make mistakes. You were always meant to be mine, and I was always meant to be yours.

 Nothing could change that. Not curses, not fear, not three years of isolation. Our destiny was written in the stars before we were even born. Ivory kissed his chest right over his heart, feeling it beat strong and steady beneath her lips. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for being patient.

 Thank you for loving me even when I couldn’t love myself. Always Kristoff promised for the rest of our lives and whatever comes after. You’re mine, Ivory, my mate, my Luna, my queen, my everything. The marking ceremony was held under the full moon. 3 days later, the entire northern crown pack gathered to witness their alpha king officially claim his Luna.

 Ivory wore a dress made of white fur and silk that seemed to glow in the moonlight. her platinum hair adorned with winter flowers. The elite guards stood as honor guards, all of them healthy and whole, their white formal uniforms making them look like winter warriors from legend. When Kristoff marked her again in front of witnesses, completing the public bond, the pack howled in celebration.

 The sound echoed through the valley, through the mountains, through the entire territory. A song of joy and belonging and new beginnings that Ivory felt in her very soul. Years later, when young Omegas came to Luna Ivory, feeling cursed or different or unwanted, she’d smile and tell them her story about living alone for 3 years in a mountain cabin.

 about 12 white wolves scratching at her door during a blizzard. About choosing to help them despite her fear, about falling in love with an alpha king who saw her blessing instead of her curse. “I thought I was cursed,” she’d tell them, taking their hands and looking into their eyes.

 “I thought my appearance and my gift made me dangerous. I thought I was meant to die alone to protect everyone else. But the moon goddess had different plans. She marked me pale so my true mate would recognize me. She gave me healing gifts so I could save his life. She led him to my door when I’d given up hope.

 Everything I thought was a curse was actually a blessing I hadn’t learned to see yet. She’d introduced them to Kristoff, still tall and strong, and looking at her with the same love he’d shown that first morning after the blizzard. Sometimes the right person doesn’t come when you’re ready for them. Sometimes they come when you need them most. When you’ve given up. When you’re sure you’re meant to be alone.

 That’s when the moon goddess shows you that you were never cursed. You were just waiting for someone brave enough to see your blessing. And those young omegas would leave her presence standing taller, believing a little more firmly that their differences weren’t weaknesses, but strengths waiting to be discovered. That isolation was temporary.

 that somewhere out there 12 white wolves might scratch at their door during a blizzard and their entire life would change. If you enjoyed this story, please subscribe to the channel for more werewolf romance tales featuring powerful alphas, special omegas, and unexpected bonds. Hit the notification bell so you never miss an upload. Leave a comment below telling me what you thought of Ivory and Kristoff’s story and what kind of werewolf romance you’d like to see next.

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