Chapter 1: Betrayed on my birthday

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• Sold To The Wrong Lycan Heir   Chapter 65 – A Promise for Jones

  Chapter 65 – A Promise for JonesSelene’s POVThe moment Lucian appears at the doorway, my heart feels as if a massive weight has been lifted. His arrival is like a breath of air after drowning. He’s a mess—his dark hair damp with sweat, his clothes sticking to his powerful frame, his chest rising and falling with the effort of whatever trials he had faced to bring me what I needed. His skin glistens beneath the torchlight, and though exhaustion drags at his features, his eyes—those fierce, unyielding eyes—find mine and soften.Without a single word, he strides forward, determination in every step despite the weariness in his bones. He places the ghost orchid into my trembling hands. The delicate blossom, pale as moonlight, feels strangely heavy with the weight of so many hopes. I swallow hard, my throat tight with gratitude and fear. Lucian has done his part. Now everything depends on me.For a long, breathless moment, I just stare at the tools laid out before me: the worn, smudged n

• Sold To The Wrong Lycan Heir   Chapter 64 – Dawn's Tear

  Chapter 64 – Dawn's TearSelene’s POVA wave of relief crashes over me as Lucian pries the ancient grimoire from beneath a collapsed stack of decaying tomes. For a heartbeat, I allow myself to believe that salvation is within reach. My hands, slick with sweat and grime, tremble as I open the cracked leather cover. The scent of aged paper and dust fills my lungs, oddly comforting in our moment of panic.Fingers trembling, I thumb through the fragile pages, each one threatening to crumble under my touch. Symbols and scripts, some familiar, most foreign, blur before my eyes. For a fleeting moment, hope ignites in my chest... a warm, bright flicker.But as I read on, that fragile flame is snuffed out, replaced by a cold pit in my stomach. My shoulders slump, the weight of reality settling heavily upon them.Lucian, ever watchful, notices instantly. He leans in, his voice low and steady, as if afraid his words might shatter me completely. “Selene? What is it? What’s wrong?”I hesitate. How

• Sold To The Wrong Lycan Heir   Chapter 63 – Remedy

  Chapter 63 – RemedySelene’s POVThe healer’s words cling to me, heavy and cold, long after he’s left my side. It feels like they’ve sunk deep beneath my skin, poisoning me with the same helplessness that’s overtaking Aria. I manage a stiff nod, murmuring a thank you I don’t mean. What else can I say? What else can I do? The healer gives me that look... the one filled with quiet sorrow, the kind of look someone gives when they’ve seen too much loss. I see the sympathy in his eyes, but I don’t want it. I can’t bear it. If I take even a scrap of that pity into my heart, I’ll fall apart right here in front of him, in front of everyone.And so, I force myself to move. To do something. Anything.I throw myself into the chaos of the infirmary. My hands tremble, but I keep them busy. I change bandages that are already stained through. I fetch buckets of clean water, though my arms ache. I whisper soft words to frightened children and weary parents, though my voice feels like it might crack w

• Sold To The Wrong Lycan Heir   Chapter 62 – Tainted River

  Chapter 62 – Tainted RiverSelene’s POVThe world has never felt so quiet, so crushingly still. I sit frozen at Aria’s bedside, my fingers trembling as they brush her soft cheek, cool but not cold. I keep telling myself that’s a good sign. That she’s still here. That I haven’t lost her. But with every second that passes, the fear burrows deeper. Her chest rises and falls, so faintly I have to lean in to see it, to reassure myself I’m not imagining it.“Aria,” I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of my terror. I nudge her shoulder gently, then harder. “Baby, please. Open your eyes. Look at me. Just a little.” But she doesn’t stir. Not even the smallest twitch of her lashes. Not the tiniest sigh.My heart pounds so loudly I swear it echoes in my ears. I can’t sit here and do nothing. I can’t watch my child fade in front of me. Panic propels me to my feet, and I bolt from the house, barefoot, barely noticing the sting of stones against my soles.Lucian’s cabin comes into view, a

• Sold To The Wrong Lycan Heir   Chapter 61 – The River’s Curse 

  Chapter 61 – The River’s Curse Selene’s POVThe final crackle of the fireworks fades into the night, leaving behind faint trails of smoke that twist and curl like ghostly fingers into the sky. The air feels heavy now... thick with the lingering scent of burnt powder and that quiet promise of rain. The kind of stillness that settles after a celebration, where for a heartbeat the world seems to hold its breath.I don’t move. I just stand there, watching the last spark die out, my heart pounding strangely in my chest. My thoughts are jumbled, like the smoke above me... drifting, directionless. And then, from the corner of my eye, I sense her.Joy.She steps up beside me so quietly that I almost don’t notice at first. There’s a gentleness about her tonight, as if she’s afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace of this moment.“Selene,” she says, her voice soft, her eyes kind but serious, “let me take Aria home.”I follow her gaze, and that’s when I see him.Darian.

• Sold To The Wrong Lycan Heir   Chapter 60 – The day the light dimmed

  Chapter 60 – The day the light dimmedLucian’s POVI’ve always hated banquets. They’re nothing more than stages where masks are worn, not on faces like tonight’s masquerade, but in hearts. I’ve endured too many... lavish gatherings where nobles flatter one another with syrupy words while sharpening daggers behind their backs. I expected no better here, as I stepped into the Nightborne Pack’s grand hall. But I was wrong.The space isn’t large... not compared to the opulent ballrooms I’ve known... but it’s alive in a way those cavernous rooms never were. Soft silver fabric drapes the walls, shimmering under the warm, flickering light of a hundred candles. The tables don’t groan with excess, but what they do hold... woven garlands of forest blooms, carved figurines that could only have been shaped by loving hands... speaks of care, of pride. Laughter rings out, not forced or polished, but real. This room is small, yes, but it holds more joy than any royal feast I’ve ever attended.I find