Yunho emerged from the dense forest, muscles aching and boots covered with blood and mud. The three-day hunt had been brutal, but the bags slung over his shoulders—stuffed with the corpses of rogues and prey alike. As he and the other hunters crossed into the pack’s territory, word spread like wildfire: the Luna had given birth.

A fresh litter.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. There was new life among them—a symbol of strength, unity, and hope. After handing off the kills to the cooks, Yunho didn’t waste a second. Still smelling of the wild and death, he made a beeline for the pack’s nursery, heart pounding with anticipation.

The moment he stepped inside, the world seemed to slow. There you were—his mate—kneeling beside the warm nest of whimpering, squirming pups, your hands impossibly gentle as you tended to them. The soft glow of the room lit your face in a way that stole the breath from his lungs. You were speaking to the pups in hushed, melodic tones, the kind that even the fiercest warrior would quiet down to hear.