Aria’s POV
Lana sensed everything. She reached up with her soft little hand and patted my chest.
It was barely any force, but it soothed .
I lifted Lana’s tiny hand and pressed it to my lips.
Her palm was warm, and soft. My little pup’s scent soothing the raw ache in my chest. My breath fluttered across her skin, and she let out a sweet coo, reaching up to clumsily wipe the tears I hadn’t even realized were still falling.
My wolf steadied inside , slow breaths, calr heartbeats...all thanks to her.
Seeing that I was no longer shaking, the lead staffer spoke gently.
“We understand your emotions, Ms. Darvin. Do you need more ti? We can delay the process.”
I shook my head, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve.
“No. Let’s go ahead.”
Ti didn’t stop for grieving wolves.
We either moved forward or got dragged under.
And now that I had Lana my pup, my anchor, I needed to be strong. No more drowning in the past.
The staffer nodded respectfully. “As you wish. Madam Oslen left behind an imnse fortune. Please follow to our vault.”
My wolf lifted her ears. Vault?
I nodded and followed him down a quiet corridor.
The rest of the staff stayed behind, positioned like guardians at the entrance, their scents calm yet alert. It reminded of pack warriors holding the periter protectivelty.
“After you,” the lead staffer said, unlocking a high-tech steel door that humd faintly with enchantnts I almost felt on my skin. He ushered inside.
I stepped in and froze.
There were no gold bars.
No glittering mountains of diamonds.
Instead...
Two towering rows of bookshelves.
My heart skipped. My wolf leaned forward eagerly. Books ant knowledge, legacy, secrets and strength.
“Right this way,” the staffer said.
Reluctantly, I turned away from the shelves and followed him to a corner—where an exquisite dressing table sat like a relic from a forgotten era. The surface was carved from ancient walnut, inlaid with rare feathers that shimred like moonlight on a wolf’s fur.
He put on black gloves and opened the delicate drawers.
Jewels sparkled inside...brilliant, blinding, enough to make my wolf squint.
Necklaces, rings, brooches... each piece more extravagant than the last.
“Madam Olson was an avid jewelry collector,” he explained. “This is one of the collections she left for you.”
Then he picked up a thick stack of docunts.
“These are the deeds to several villas, estates, lands... and one fully operational winery overseas.”
“This is...” I breathed, unable to finish.
My voice failed.
My wolf was equally stunned, tail flicking in disbelief.
The Darvin family hadn’t been wealthy for years. We’d been scraping by. Yet Grandma Kate... my Kate... had been sitting on a fortune the whole ti?
I stared blankly at the spread of glittering wealth.
The staffer didn’t rush . His scent carried genuine warmth, pride even.
Finally, I found my voice. “Everything in this room... is what my grandmother left for ?”
“Yes, Ms. Darvin.”
My gaze drifted back to the shelves.
“What about those two? What’s on them?” I asked, unable to keep my wolf from pushing forward.
The staffer blinked in surprise. People usually got drunk on diamonds and property deeds. They didn’t walk away from millions to chase dusty shelves.
But I wasn’t “people.”
I was a wolf raised by a woman of depth. Wealth glittered, yes—but knowledge pulsed.
The staffer’s respect for sharpened. “Those are precious docunts Madam Olson wanted you to have. Mostly... fragnts of her life’s work.”
“Precious docunts?” I echoed, already crossing the room with hurried steps, clutching Lana closer.
As I scanned the shelves, my breath caught.
The first row—
Musical scores. Original manuscripts. Lyrics written by legendary composers. So pages still carried faint marks of Kate’s notes.
My fingertips tingled, my wolf humming with awe. Kate had taught everything: law, dicine, piano, voice control, logic... she’d raised with the precision of a master grooming an heir.
And here—here was proof she had prepared for a life larger than I ever imagined.
I moved to the second shelf.
Case files. Rare dical texts. Art portfolios.Docunts from the Hemsworth Group’s most unusual cases, so that had been whispered about in werewolf circles as unsolved mysteries.
Paintings so old they slled faintly of dust, oil, and history.
I ran a hand across the spines one by one, my wolf’s heartbeat syncing with my own.
The jewels behind glittered.
The property deeds lay stacked in neat piles.
But the real weight, the true legacy, was here.
These shelves were worth more than everything else combined.
Each book...each file...each manuscript...was a relic of Kate’s brilliance, a piece of her soul she had preserved for .
And suddenly, I realized sothing very profound—
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