Third Person's POV Lucien Duskgrave's lips parted, his voice low and smooth as velvet. "Parce que je veux t'épouser." The French syllables slipped through the air like the resonant hum of a cello, brushing against the tension of the moment like silk over steel. Riley Vale's pupils shrank slightly. The soft glow of the bedroom lights caught the subtle sheen on Lucien's lips, making them gleam with a rose-gold hue. But in her ears-only silence. Nyra's power completely disappeared. If Riley had still been able to catch a few of Kael's furious curses earlier, now she couldn't hear a single sound at all. A strange silence enveloped her like a thick fog-unnatural, heavy, and absolute. She blinked, disoriented. The world around her moved-Lucien's lips, the lightning outside, even Kael's mouth twisting in rage through the glass-but it all unfolded in complete, suffocating stillness. A faint ringing echoed in her ears, then dulled into a vacuum. Just the crushing quiet that reminded her, mercilessly, of what she had lost. Her throat tightened. She had known it was coming-this silence. The doctors had warned her before she left prison: the repeated blows to her ears, the fractures left untreated, the ruptured eardrums that never fully healed. The guards never cared how hard they struck her-especially when they slapped her for not answering fast enough, for flinching, for daring to look them in the eye. Every slap had chipped away at her world, and now, it had finally collapsed. She swallowed the bitterness that rose in her throat. She hadn't understood him. Not even a word. But she smiled anyway. Carefully, gently, as if pretending the ache in her chest didn't exist. As if she hadn't just been reminded of everything she lacked-especially now that her hearing was gone. Lucien saw it-just the faintest hitch in her expression, a hesitation so small it might've gone unnoticed by anyone else. But not by him. His wolf noticed too, stirring uneasily inside his chest, sniffing out her sadness like a trail of blood in the snow.He watched the trembling of her lashes, the fragile shadow they cast beneath her eyes. A chuckle rumbled softly from his throat, too low for her to hear. "Willing?" he asked. This-she understood. She could read his lips. And though her heartbeat faltered in fear, Riley nodded without hesitation. "I do." Outside the manor, thunder cracked against the sky like the heavens bearing witness. Lightning lit up the glass behind her, flashing across Lucien's face and illuminating the wildness beneath his composed exterior. A flicker of something dark and ancient stirred in his irises-his cursed wolf, awakened. She believed him. Just like that. Lucien felt a sharp twist in his gut. Her trust hit him harder than any battle wound ever had. She was too pure. Too fragile. Too trusting. Too easy to break. But her answer-that soft, unknowing "yes"-meant more to him than she could ever comprehend. She had just agreed to marry the Alpha of Stormridge Pack, the man whispered about in terrified half-truths. The one the Vale family once tried to force her upon. The one cursed by the Moon Goddess herself to never find his fated mate-unless she fell in love with him first. And tonight... she'd said yes. She was his. He turned off the lights with a quiet flick, letting the room fall into a soft, warm darkness. Riley curled under the blankets, her silhouette peaceful-blissfully unaware of how her decision had just altered both their fates. Downstairs, the old stone hallways of the Duskgrave estate echoed under Lucien's steady footsteps. As he entered the drawing room, three pairs of eager eyes snapped up to meet him. Matriarch Duskgrave-his grandmother-was practically glowing. "Lucien, where's Riley?" "She's resting." "What were you two doing in there?" she asked, half-knowing, half-prying. Lucien answered plainly, folding his tall frame into a leather armchair, long legs crossed with quiet elegance. "I proposed. She agreed." There was a full beat of silence."You what?" the Matriarch nearly choked, her eyes as wide as full moons. "How did you even propose?" asked Mrs. Beck, her voice caught between horror and awe. Lucien arched a brow. "I asked if she'd marry me. She said yes." Mia, the old caretaker, blinked in disbelief. "That's it? No ring? No ceremony? No wolves howling in celebration?" The women shared a look of stunned disbelief. But their shock slowly melted into soft smiles. "She's been through too much," Mia murmured, her eyes misting. "Maybe simple is exactly what she needed." But Matriarch Duskgrave had other thoughts. She scowled fiercely. "You're lucky she's not the kind to ask for more. You better make it up to her. I want a proper ceremony. Moon-blessed. Pack-witnessed. Understood?" Lucien gave a faint nod, though his wolf snarled in disdain at the idea of fanfare. He didn't care for traditions. He only cared that she was his now. Later that night, with the estate blanketed in quiet and only the distant echoes of Kael Vale's fury still ringing from the outer gates, Lucien remained alone in the dim drawing room. Thunder grumbled like some ancient beast outside, and his cursed wolf shifted restlessly beneath his skin. He thought back to that moment upstairs. Her delicate lips shaping the words "I do." Her eyes brimming with trust she had no reason to give. Her body, still fragile from years of suffering, trembling in his arms. He'd never meant to propose-not yet. But the words had come unbidden, rising from somewhere deep and primal. "Parce que je veux t'épouser." Because I want to marry you. Not because it was time. Not because the Pack needed a Luna. But because his wolf had chosen. And for the first time in years, the curse didn't feel so absolute. Not when Riley Vale was upstairs sleeping with his scent on her skin. Not when her agreement rang louder in his memory than any pack blessing ever could. The storm raged on, but inside, Lucien's world had gone quiet-settled. Because tonight, the Moon finally gave him something he never thought he'd have. Hope.