Novels by Agent42

-ZOYA- "Bogus! That girl is a liar and a spy. You must be one of our enemies that she's conspiring with." Castellan steps forward, jabbing his index finger at the stranger. His golden eyes droop with boredom. No one sees him move, but with a flick of his wrist, the representative of the Blackthorn family is thrown several meters into the air, slamming into the wall, and the scythe embeds itself in the wall, just above him as though to say, you could have lost your neck just now. I gulp, goosebumps rising on my skin. Why is he standing up for me? More importantly, what could he want from me? "Does anyone else have an objection?" He asks casually. Alpha Xander steps back, his eyes wary. "What the hell are you?" The stranger grins, the angle of the sunset lighting a part of his face, making his grin look sinister. "I go by many names. But you can call me Ragnar Thorne." Alpha Xander stiffens, his face going pale, like he recognizes the name, and more glaringly, fears it. "

-ZOYA- "Spy." "Omega." People whisper all around me, parting like they can't bear to stand near me as I am pushed through their middle. My face is matted with dirt and dried tears. My wrists are bound behind me. I am dragged all the way from the pack house, and now I am forced to the city square, a huge gazebo spanning about 10,000 square metres where the whole pack gathers under the setting sun. This is it. I will finally die like I should have 16 years ago. No matter how hard I run, my past always comes back to haunt me. In the center of the square, on the stone platform sits Alpha Xander, dressed in black. Jason stands next to him, holding a silver sword on a platter. This is it... I think. The men force me down to a kneeling position. Xander won't look at me. He keeps his face carefully neutral, even as the whisperers quiet and Castellan Blackthorn stands up. "Zoya Ironwood, daughter of Sergei of the Red Fang pack. You have been tried and found guilty of treason a

Chapter 2— UNMASKED -Zoya- Sunlight, there's a lot of it. It pours straight through my window. I shut my eyes tighter. In my head, I'm running through a thicket. The farther I run, the closer the trees are pressed together, until my skin scrapes against the thorns and I stumble over a ledge, out of breath. The smell of earth suffocates me, but not nearly as much as the anxiety and demons I'm running from. I catch myself just before I hit the floor. I keep running. And suddenly, a tall hooded figure is chasing me, walking slowly, counting his every step and swinging a scythe in his free hand. "Are you still alive, omega?" I jolt up straight, my eyes snapping open. Cold beads of sweat line my forehead. The sunlight wasn't part of the nightmare. I shield myself from the bright light, feeling a dull tingling between my eyes. My neck aches. I realize the position I'm in. I fell asleep on the chair next to my bed, laptop shut on the table after another fruitless attempt to track do

16 Years Later -ZOYA- Blood drips from the side of my knuckles, sending a tingling sensation up my arm. I straighten up but immediately wish I hadn't. My vision blurs and I stumble back. "47… 48, 49…" Scarface counts. I have less than 20 seconds left on the clock. Today's challenge was surviving. And so far, I was killing it. I twist to the side, sending a kick flying in the air. My muscles strain with the effort, but I grit my teeth, watching with little relief as my opponent lands on the floor with a dull thud. Fighting—it was part of my life now. As an insignificant wolf without a background, there was only one choice: to cower in fear and let people step over you. Not me, though. In the shadow rings, I made a name for myself where no one had to know my background. "Naive girl. Sooner or later, your lies will catch up with you and the Alpha will see how well you've bewitched him!" The man on the ground spat, rolling to the side, coughing out blood. "So what if th

PROLOGUE The Lycan king's secret kingdom consisted of three main packs. The Shadow Pack: crafters of weapons, strongest of alphas. The Crimson Moon Pack: known for their omega healers and every form of dark sorcery. And the Red Fang Pack: merchants and travellers. Every wolf knew the basics. And there was an immortal Lycan king that wielded a scythe, working in the shadows, making sure the packs coexisted and keeping the wolves from enemies. Or at least, that was what some people believed. Sergei Vasily knew that part was a myth. For one thing, he could hear the distant howl of rogues across the hills. It was only a matter of time before they claimed half of the Red fang pack. And he knew exactly how that was going to happen, because he was going to be a part of it. There were two reasons he lay awake in the middle of the night. Footsteps shuffled outside, followed by a coded rap on his window, reminding him that it was time. He lit his torch, walking soundlessly down the