The peace didn't last.
It never did.
Bella had barely left Dante's bed, her body still marked with his touch, her scent tangled with his, the bond between them finally settled—
When the first warning howl echoed through White Moon's territory.
Dante was already on his feet, muscles tensed, his wolf bristling beneath his skin.
Bella sat up, her breath still uneven, her heart pounding—not just from the sudden alarm, but from the shift in Dante's entire presence.
He had gone from mate to Alpha in an instant.
"Stay here," he ordered, reaching for his pants, his body already moving toward the door.
Bella bristled.
"Like hell I will."
Dante's blue eyes flicked back to her, sharp, unreadable.
"Bella—"
"No." She swung her legs over the bed, already reaching for her clothes. "I'm coming with you."
Dante's jaw ticked.
His wolf didn't like this.
Didn't want her anywhere near danger.
But she was his mate now.
She wasn't just a pack member.
She was his Luna.
And he knew better than anyone—Bella Santos didn't take orders.
A muscle in his jaw flexed. "Fine. But you stay with me."
Bella smirked. "Wouldn't dream of leaving your side, Alpha."
Dante's eyes darkened.
"We'll deal with that attitude later, little wolf."
Then—
The door swung open.
Chase stood there, his face tight with tension.
"We have a problem."
The Threat at Their Borders
The entire pack was on high alert by the time Dante and Bella reached the border.
A group of warriors stood at attention, growls low in their throats, the scent of tension thick in the air.
Dante stepped forward, his presence immediate, suffocating, the weight of an Alpha's power pressing down on the pack.
"Talk." His voice was sharp, lethal.
Sage, his Gamma, stepped forward, her face grim.
"It's not Indiana Park."
Bella exhaled slowly, but the relief was short-lived.
Sage's eyes flickered to Bella, then back to Dante.
"It's the Golden Pack."
Silence.
Bella stiffened.
The Golden Pack.
Sydney Hart.
The Alpha who had once offered her a place in his pack.
Dante's entire body went rigid.
His wolf snarled violently inside him.
"What does he want?" Dante's voice was a low, dangerous growl.
Sage hesitated.
"He wants to speak to Bella."
The tension snapped.
Dante's blue eyes burned with fury, his wolf bristling at the mere suggestion.
"Not happening."
Bella frowned. "What does he want with me?"
Sage's expression tightened.
"He says he wants to negotiate."
Dante laughed darkly.
"Negotiate what? Because the last time I checked, Bella belongs to me."
Bella's pulse quickened.
Because the way he said it—dark, possessive, absolute—
Made her breath hitch, made the mate bond pulse in agreement.
But Sydney?
He wouldn't have come here unless he had something important to say.
Bella lifted her chin. "I'll talk to him."
Dante's head snapped toward her. "The fuck you will."
Bella crossed her arms.
"If I don't, he'll just keep pushing. I need to hear what he has to say."
Dante's jaw clenched.
Because he knew she was right.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
"Fine," he growled.
"But if he so much as looks at you wrong, I'll rip his fucking throat out."
Bella smirked.
"Noted."
The Meeting with Sydney Hart
Sydney stood just beyond the White Moon border, his tall, broad frame relaxed, his golden-brown eyes sharp with amusement.
Bella hadn't seen him in months.
And yet, as she approached, flanked by Dante and his warriors, she could still remember the way he had looked at her back then.
Like he had been waiting for her to choose him.
Too late.
She was already claimed.
And from the way Sydney's eyes flickered to the mark on her throat, he knew it too.
"Well, well," Sydney murmured, tilting his head. "You've been busy, little wolf."
Dante snarled instantly.
Bella placed a hand on his chest, stopping him before he could lunge.
"Say what you came to say, Sydney."
Sydney's eyes flicked between them, a smirk curling at his lips.
"Straight to business, then? Fine." He crossed his arms. "I have a warning for you, Bella."
Bella's brow furrowed.
"A warning?"
Sydney's smirk faded.
"Viktor Drakov may be dead, but Indiana Park isn't done with you yet."
The air thickened.
Dante stiffened beside her, his breath slow, controlled.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
Sydney sighed. "Mikhail Reznov survived."
Bella's stomach dropped.
Dante's wolf snapped inside him.
"We left him for dead," Dante growled.
Sydney gave him a pointed look. "Clearly, you didn't finish the job."
Bella's pulse hammered.
She remembered the last time she had faced Mikhail.
His hands on her. The way he had dragged her through the woods, laughing, taunting.
Dante must have felt her tension, because his hand wrapped around her waist instantly, steady, protective.
Sydney continued.
"He's already making moves. Rallying the survivors from Indiana. Recruiting outsiders. And from what I hear—"
His golden eyes locked onto Bella's.
"He still wants revenge for his brother."
Bella's blood turned to ice.
She had killed Nikolai Reznov.
And now?
Mikhail was coming for her.
Dante's hold on her tightened.
"Let him try." His voice was low, deadly.
Sydney sighed.
"I figured you'd say that."
Then, he turned back to Bella.
"Be careful, little wolf. I'd hate to see that mate bond of yours end in tragedy."
Bella's jaw tightened.
"Thanks for the concern."
Sydney smirked, stepping back toward his territory. "It's not concern. It's a reminder."
His gaze flickered to Dante.
"Your enemies are growing, Alpha. And if you're not careful—"
His lips curled.
"You might not be able to protect her next time."
Dante's growl shook the ground.
But Sydney was already walking away.
Bella exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening in Dante's shirt.
Because she knew what this meant.
Mikhail was coming.
And this time—
He wouldn't stop until she was dead.