---- Chapter 15 JOSIE POV: Chris stopped walking and turned to face me. The setting sun cast a golden light on his face, making his silver eyes seem to glow. "| first saw you two years ago, at the annual Alpha summit," he began, his voice quiet and steady. "You were standing on a balcony, away from the crowd. Everyone else was networking, posturing. But you were just looking up at the moon. You looked... lonely. Like a beautiful, rare bird trapped in a cage that was too small." He paused, his gaze searching my face. "Later, | saw one of your sketches that a maid had accidentally dropped. It was a design for a gown that looked like spun moonlight. It was brilliant. And | realized your cage wasn't just the Black Moon pack. It was him. He was suffocating your soul." My heart skipped a beat. He saw me. He actually saw me. "But that's not the real reason," he continued, his expression turning serious. "A few months after that summit, | was ambushed." "Ambushed? By who?" ---- "Rogues," he said, his voice hardening. "But they weren't ordinary Rogues. Their weapons were tipped with silver. It wasn't a random attack. It was an assassination attempt, orchestrated by my own sister." | gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. "Rosalie?" "She's always seen me as an obstacle to her ambitions. And she's never been afraid to get her hands dirty." He unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and pushed up the sleeve. A network of jagged, dark scars marred the skin of his forearm, scars that had the tell-tale shimmer of a silver wound. They never fully heal. "| was bleeding out in the forest on the edge of your territory," he said, his eyes locking with mine. "| had given up. | was ready to die. And then... you found me." | stared at him, confused. "l don't remember that." "You wouldn't. You were just a girl out for a walk. You didn't see my face clearly. But you dragged me, a stranger bleeding to death, to a hidden creek and washed my wounds. You saved my life, Josie." He took a step closer, his scent of pine and clean snow wrapping around me. "White Wolves have a latent healing aura. You didn't even know you were doing it, but your very presence, your touch... it stopped the silver poison from reaching my heart. It gave my ---- warriors enough time to find me." He gently took my hand. His touch sent a pleasant warmth, not a frantic bolt of electricity, through my veins. It was calm. It was safe. "So, yes, at first, helping you was about getting justice for what Rosalie did to me. It was a way to finally bring her down. But the more | got to know you, the more | saw your strength ... it became about more than revenge. It became about you." He confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "Our kind believe in fated mates, Josie. But some of us also believe in something rarer. Something earned. A Second Chance Mate. | hope the Goddess will give me a chance to earn that title." Tears welled in my eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of sorrow. They were tears of disbelief, of overwhelming gratitude. He wasn't some perfect savior from a storybook; he was a man with his own scars, his own reasons, who had found something more in me. A small smile touched my lips for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. "A new start," | whispered. He smiled back, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up his whole face. "Let's go celebrate your new life."