Sylvia’s POV

Time flew like moonlit shadows dancing across the forest floor. Three years had passed since the William incident.

Today marked another milestone in the healing of my family relationships—Selene was returning to Frostline Enterprises after completing her business management degree. Despite our complicated history, something had shifted between us during her time away at university. The jealousy and competition that had defined our relationship since childhood had gradually transformed into something resembling mutual respect.

I smoothed down my tailored charcoal suit as I waited in my executive office.

"Are you nervous?" Caesar’s deep voice interrupted my thoughts as he materialized in the doorway, looking devastatingly handsome in a navy suit that accentuated his broad shoulders.

My lips curved into a smile. "A little. It’s been almost six months since I’ve seen her in person."

"You’ve both grown," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

My phone buzzed with a message from Morgana: "Your sister just arrived. Looking polished and surprisingly humble. Miracle of miracles!"

I laughed and showed Caesar the message. "Well, here goes nothing."

"I have meetings all afternoon, but call if you need me," he said, squeezing my hand. His eyes darkened with intensity. "I mean it, Sivi. One word, and I’ll be here."

---

Selene entered my office with a confidence that seemed genuine rather than performative. Gone was the sickly-looking girl who had used her fragility as a weapon. In her place stood a poised young woman with clear eyes and purposeful movements.

"Sylvia," she greeted, her voice warm but professional. "You look well. Marriage suits you."

"Thank you," I replied, gesturing for her to take a seat. "University seems to have suited you equally well."

She smiled—a real smile that reached her eyes. "It was exactly what I needed. A chance to build something on my own merit rather than family connections."

Morgana entered with a tray of coffee.

"Perfect timing, Morg," I said warmly.

"I’ve briefed Selene on the quarterly reports," Morgana said, "It’s really good to have you both in the same room without security on standby."

We both laughed, the tension breaking slightly.

"I can’t promise we won’t need them in future budget meetings," I joked, which earned a genuine chuckle from Selene.

"I’m not the fragile princess anymore who runs to Mother—every time I don’t get my way," Selene remarked with refreshing self-awareness.

Selene pulled out a sleek leather portfolio. "I’ve developed something I think could transform both our pack’s future and our relationship," she said, sliding a document across my desk. "The Inter-Pack Collaborative Initiative."

I raised an eyebrow, picking up the proposal. It was comprehensive, professionally bound, with detailed market analyses and projection charts. As I skimmed the executive summary, my surprise grew.

"You’re proposing shared territory resources? Joint business ventures between formerly rival packs?" I looked up, genuinely impressed. "This flies in the face of centuries of werewolf territorial instinct."

"Which is exactly why it’s time," Selene said, leaning forward with passion lighting her eyes. "The old ways of packs jealously guarding their boundaries, fighting over scraps of territory—it’s holding us back. We’re stronger together."

I continued reading, my strategic mind already calculating the implications. "The the Eastern Ridge Pack is included in your partnership proposals."

Selene nodded firmly. "They’ve been properly humbled since Hugo’s disgrace. I’ve already had preliminary talks with their new leadership. They’ll issue a formal apology for past transgressions and pay significant reparations to Frostline for damages incurred during Hugo’s... unpleasantness."

I couldn’t help but smile at her diplomatic phrasing for Hugo’s attempted sexual assault and corporate sabotage.

"You negotiated this yourself?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Every word," she confirmed. "No assistance from Mother or our legal team. I wanted to prove I could handle it."

"And you did," I acknowledged, studying her with new eyes. This wasn’t the jealous step-sister who had once sabotaged my presentation dress or leaked confidential files to Zane Thorne. This was a capable businesswoman making strategic moves for our family’s benefit.

Morgana ‘s eyes darting between us with barely concealed curiosity.

"Morg, you might as well join us," I invited with a smile. "How’s working with my sister?"

Morgana glanced at Selene, then back to me. "Different than working with you," she admitted honestly. "Selene is more methodical, wants to see every angle before committing."

"Complementary approaches," Selene noted. "Not competing ones."

The observation hung in the air between us, loaded with meaning beyond business strategies.

"I’ve been meaning to ask," I said, setting down the proposal. "Why now? Why this?"

Selene met my gaze unflinchingly. "Because I’m tired of living in envy," she said simply. "I spent years jealous of you, terrified of forever existing in your shadow. But my time away taught me something profound—Frostfang’s legacy isn’t about individual glory. It’s about collective strength."

Her honesty stunned me into momentary silence.

"I watched you from afar, you know," she continued. "How you handled the William Blackwood crisis. How you and Caesar built something that wasn’t just about power, but about genuine leadership." Her voice grew softer. "I wanted that. Not your exact path, but my own version of purpose."

"Selene..." I began, emotion making my voice rough.

"Let me finish," she insisted. "I need to say this. I was horrible to you. I let jealousy poison everything between us. I conspired with Zane, with Hugo—I betrayed you repeatedly because I couldn’t stand that you were everything I wanted to be."

"You were Mother’s blood daughter, while I was just taken in out of obligation," Selene continued, vulnerability evident in her voice. "I faked illness, manipulated situations, did everything to secure my position because I was terrified of being discarded."

"I never wanted to replace you," I said quietly. "I just wanted to be seen as worthy too."

"I know that now," she nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "And I’m not asking for immediate forgiveness. Just... a chance to rebuild. To work alongside you instead of against you."

I stood, walking around my desk to face her directly. For a moment we just looked at each other—all the years of rivalry and hurt suspended between us.

"We don’t need to be carbon copies of each other," I said finally. "You have your strengths. I have mine. Together, we make a formidable Frost sister team."

I opened my arms, and after a heartbeat’s hesitation, Selene stepped into my embrace. It wasn’t the theatrical reconciliation of a movie scene—it was tentative, a little awkward, but genuine.

"God, are you two finally hugging it out?" Morgana’s voice cut through the moment, her expression a mix of shock and delight. "Should I call the Werewolf Gazette? This is front-page news."

We broke apart, laughing through tears neither of us would fully acknowledge.

"Shut up, Morg," I said without heat.

"Yeah, we’re still working on the warm fuzzy feelings," Selene added with a watery smile.

Morgana discreetly handed us both tissues before slipping out , giving us privacy to continue our conversation.

"So," I said, returning to my chair. "The proposal. I think it has merit, but the council will need convincing. Tradition runs deep in werewolf society."

"That’s why I want us to present it together," Selene replied. "You’ve earned their respect as Caesar’s mate and Frostfang’s Alpha. I bring the fresh perspective and detailed research. Together, we’re more persuasive."

I nodded slowly. "Partners, then?"

"Partners," she confirmed, extending her hand professionally.

As we shook on it, my phone buzzed with a message from Caesar: "Everything okay?"

I smiled and typed back: "Better than okay. I think I just got my sister back."