Novels by Chithority.

Kael’s POV Lyra stepped back from the door as we approached, her eyes liftIng to meet mIne—wide, uncertaIn, but not unwelcoming. There was a flicker of somethIng there, a strange blend of curiosity and cautIous hope. I offered her a small, reassurIng smile, trying to ease the tensIon I felt threadIng invisibly between us. The room behind her was modest, sparse even. A single cot, worn curtains, and a chipped wooden table. Far from the grand opulence she must’ve grown up with in the South. Malrevok Castle had towering ceilings, intricate marble floors, and corridors built to impress. This—this was a world apart. But still, Lyra looked at the space with a kind of quiet reverence, as if this simple room gave her something the grand halls never could. Peace. Safety. She didn’t crave luxury. She needed sanctuary. “Lyra,” I said gently, breaking the silence. “When’s your next birthday?” The questIon made her flinch slightly—just a blink, a tightening of her fingers at her side

Kael’s POV Dax stepped Into the room, and the shIft was immediate. He wasn’t even fully through the doorway before the oppressIve weight of the room hit hIm square In the chest. His feet slowed, like he’d walked into somethIng thick and unseen. He scanned the space, brows pulling together, taking in the silence, the subtle tensIon strung between every breath we weren’t taking. “What… happened here?” he asked, voice low, cautious. His eyes searched our faces—mine, Ronon’s, even Clay’s—but he found no answers. “Where’s Lyra?” His voIce was casual on the surface, but I heard the undercurrent of worry beneath It. She was always hIs first thought. “She’s in your room,” I said. The words felt heavIer than they should have. A normal answer under dIfferent circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Dax blinked. His lips parted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that answer, but his reaction wasn’t what I braced for. No flare of jealousy. No protest. No overprotective

Kael’s POV Dax stepped Into the room, and the shIft was immediate. He wasn’t even fully through the doorway before the oppressIve weight of the room hit hIm square In the chest. His feet slowed, like he’d walked into somethIng thick and unseen. He scanned the space, brows pulling together, taking in the silence, the subtle tensIon strung between every breath we weren’t taking. “What… happened here?” he asked, voice low, cautious. His eyes searched our faces—mine, Ronon’s, even Clay’s—but he found no answers. “Where’s Lyra?” His voIce was casual on the surface, but I heard the undercurrent of worry beneath It. She was always hIs first thought. “She’s in your room,” I said. The words felt heavIer than they should have. A normal answer under dIfferent circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Dax blinked. His lips parted slightly, as if he hadn’t expected that answer, but his reaction wasn’t what I braced for. No flare of jealousy. No protest. No overprotective

Kael – POV “Kael, if you have grievances, take them out on me. Leave Stasia out of this,” Ronon said, stepping forward, placing himself between me and her like some damn savior. I clenched my jaw. The fury I’d been barely holding back finally erupted. “When you get her out of here, I will. There’s no place for her in this apartment. And if you insist on forcing her into our space, then I’ll take my part of the North and leave. Enough of this brotherhood crap. You’ve broken it.” His eyes narrowed, ice-blue and burning with anger. “All this… for a tainted whore?” The words dropped like a poisoned dagger, and my restraint shattered. I stepped into his space until we were nose to nose, the crackle of unshifted dominance humming in the air between us. “Don’t you dare call Lyra that again,” I growled. “She’s better than your social-climbing mistress, who, by the way, wasn’t even a virgin when you brought her into our home like some prize.” Stasia flinched like I’d slapped her. H

Kael POV The realization hIt me like a freight train. Lyra despite everythIng we’d seen, everythIng we’d assumed, everything we’d condemned her for, was a virgin. A virgin. It sounded impossible. Ridiculous, even. We saw her. Or thought we did. The memory of that night, of Malrevok flaunting her like a prize, played in my mind like a broken film reel. But now, with the clarity of truth slicing through the fog of lies, it didn’t add up. That girl we’d seen, the one Malrevok paraded before us, that wasn’t Lyra. Not this Lyra. Not the gIrl who cleaned the apartment in silence, who flinched every tIme Ronon raised hIs voice, who hid her trembling hands beneath sleeves far too long for her arms. There had been no lie in her eyes. No deception. Only pain, and a quiet dignity that mocked the twisted narrative we had clung to for years. We had been wrong. Deeply, unforgivably wrong. My stomach turned with the weight of guilt. We hadn’t just misjudged her, we’d crucified h

Lyra’s POV Ronon’s sharp gaze cut into me like twIn blades, flickering with skepticism—and something else I couldn’t quite place. Curiosity? Disbelief? Contempt? “And how do you plan to reach the West?” he asked finally, his tone flat but biting. “You think you’ll survive out there, penniless, alone, unprotected? Or did you forget Malrevok has enemies in every corner of the kingdom?” His words stung, but I didn’t flinch. I met his eyes, chin high. “I’ll walk as far as I can. Someone, somewhere, will show me kindness eventually.” His smirk was immediate, mocking. “Oh? And what will you trade for that kindness—your pride, your name?” “I’ll make sure no one knows my identity,” I said, more quietly now. “No one will ever know I was bound to any of you.” A bitter laugh escaped him, harsh and dry. “You think determination alone will keep you warm on the forest floor? Keep you alive when rogues sniff you out? You wouldn’t last two days.” “Determination is a strong force,” I

(Maxwell’s POV)The heavy iron doors of my gym creaked open as I stepped inside, the scent of sweat and steel greeting me like an old friend. The place was already alive—weights clanging, punching bags taking the brunt of frustrations, the low hum of men murmuring in corners.But this wasn’t just a gym. Not really.To outsiders, it was my legitimate business—state-of-the-art equipment, exclusive memberships, clean records. To insiders, though? It was the perfect front. Half the men who “trained” here were soldiers, the other half—clients or shadows who owed me respect. Every wall, every locker, every bag hid secrets only I controlled.I moved through the space with ease, my presence enough to straighten backs and silence whispers. Respect was one thing, fear another—I demanded both.“Boss,” one of my lieutenants nodded from the ring, wrapping his hands. I gave him a brief chin lift. Not today. My mind wasn’t here for them.No. My mind was on her.Liana.The name was enough to twist so

Liana’s POVThe garden was quiet tonight. Too quiet.I curled up on the stone bench, my shawl pulled tight around my shoulders, a book open in my lap. My eyes skimmed line after line, but none of the words stuck. They blurred together, useless.All I could think about was the missing sketchbook.I’d searched everywhere—behind the sofa cushions, under the table, even along the hallways I’d walked yesterday. Nothing. It was gone.And if it was gone… then someone had it.The thought made my stomach twist violently. Those drawings weren’t just silly sketches—they were secrets. They were pieces of me I’d never dared say out loud. Things I couldn’t afford for anyone to see. Especially not Matteo.My throat went dry. I pressed my hands against my face, whispering into my palms, Please, God. Don’t let it be him. Don’t let it be Matteo.Footsteps crunched against gravel, and I froze.I looked up—and my heart skipped.Maxwell.He strolled into view with that dangerous kind of calm, hands shoved

(Maxwell’s POV)The house was silent.Too silent.Maxwell leaned against the polished doorframe of his room, staring into the yawning stretch of the dark hallway as if it were mocking him. The shadows seemed to breathe, reminding him of the promises he had made to himself—that he would not go searching for her. He would not chase the lingering trace of roses that clung to the air whenever she passed. He would not let his mind replay that stolen kiss, the one he had no right to take, the one that still burned against his mouth like a brand.But temptation was a disease, and it lived in these walls.Restless, he paced, shoulders taut, fists clenching and unclenching as though he could wring her ghost from his veins. Finally, unable to stand the suffocating silence, he decided to head downstairs for water. A distraction. Anything to steady himself.His footsteps echoed through the cavernous living room, bouncing against marble and glass. The chandelier above swayed faintly, its crystal a

(Liana’s POV)Since that night, the walls of the house felt different. Tighter. Closer. Almost as if they knew what I had done, what I had allowed.Every corner I turned, I expected to see him. Every time a door creaked or boots clicked against the floor, my stomach twisted in panic and… something else. Something I refused to name.So, I did what I always did best. I hid.I buried myself in chores. From the moment I woke up, I kept my hands busy, even when the maids begged me to let them work instead. Scrubbing, dusting, rearranging, cooking—I did it all with frantic energy, as though cleaning the house could somehow wipe away the memory of his lips on mine.But it didn’t.Every time I bent over the sink, I remembered his breath against my cheek. Every time my fingers brushed a plate, I remembered his hand gripping mine. And at night, when the house grew silent, the memory of his kiss came back with a vengeance, stealing into my thoughts until my chest ached and my body felt like it b

Maxwell’s POVThe walls of my room felt smaller tonIght. Like they were closing In on me, crushing every bit of control I’d been holding on to sInce I stepped Into thIs cursed house. I dragged a hand through my haIr and paced across the floor, boots scuffing against the marble tiles. My chest was tIght, and no matter how deeply I breathed, I couldn’t push out the ghost of her lips.Liana.Damn It.I stopped in the middle of the room, fists tightening at my sIdes, as though I could beat the memory out of myself. The way she’d looked at me earlier, so startled, so fragile, and yet, for a split second, so willing, that Image clung to me like smoke.“I swore I wouldn’t cross that line,” I muttered aloud, my voice hoarse In the empty room. “I promised myself I’d protect her, not—”Not kiss her. Not taste her like she belonged to me. Not lose myself in the sweetness of a woman I could never truly claim.The back of my throat burned. I tilted my head up, staring at the ceiling as If the crac

Liana’s POVThe door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was louder than anythIng I had heard all night. It pressed in on me, heavIer than the shouting, heavIer than the slamming of fIsts and glass I had grown used to.My lips still tingled. My chest was heavIng—not from fear, not from pain thIs time, but from what I had just done. I pressed my back against the wall, draggIng air Into my lungs like someone who had been drowning for years and had just now broken the surface.I kissed him.The thought crashed over me agaIn and again, each wave fiercer than the last, leaving me breathless, leavIng me shaking. Terrified. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It couldn’t happen. Not with Maxwell. Not with the only person In thIs house who had shown me something that resembled kIndness.I wrapped my arms around myself, pulling my knees up as If I could curl away from the memory, but the heat of It clung to me stubbornly. My wrist throbbed with a dull ache, but the pain wasn’t what consumed

Ana’s POV"Do you know what I had to do in order to meet you again?" He scowled as his grip on my neck tightened. I was slowly getting out of breath but I don't know why my body was loving his torture.I've never felt this turned on and hot before for any man. I guess I'm a masochist who derives sexual gratification from their own pain or humiliation. I noticed from a side glance that the driver was trembling in terror as he looked at the rummaging Xavier through the car's front mirror. There was no wonder I didn't know about Xavier Hill.The infamous Mafia Boss of American territory known as DarZ. Even the top mafias trembled at the name of Xavier H While being the god boss of all underground activities, nobody has seen the face of Xavier Hill. I can't believe I'm with him, under his sexy body."Why are you quiet? Don't you know how to answer when asked?" He grabbed my hair with his other hand and yanked me up He himself got seated and shoved my face on his hard bulge. Making me kn

Ana’s POVThis voice. I think I have heard this before Oh wait up. Is he that man from the car night stand? I turned my face at him and slowly pulled off his mask."You.?"" Yes. I had some unfinished business which I left few days ago because of some depressed woman."I removed my hand from his face and turned my face other side. " What do you mean by depressed woman? I just booked a ride home!""And staring at me with those beautiful eyes. No man in their right would ignore such open call of young lady, " he chuckle cupping my chin.Forcing me to look at him he whispered softly," Do you know how crazy I? Who gave you permission to leave me by myself that morning?"His domineering voice had me shuddered in horror. He was more pissed off and barely holding back his anger. I can't clearly see his facial expressions but I am sure he's going to punish me. Before he gets a taste of my nervousness, I should show him my not so good attitude." Forgot about that night and let me go, besides

Ana’s POVMash-Up Nightclub, Lyon City, France“Gosh, I’m here again.” I swirled the rim of my wine glass and sighed. “I wonder what kind of impression I left on my father-in-law. Or rather, what Chairman Ken Lukers must think of me after witnessing my disgraceful behavior.”I chuckled bitterly to myself, sipping another shot. “He probably felt humiliated, insulted, ashamed… and that’s exactly what he deserves for raising such an arrogant son.”I tilted my head, muttering under my breath. “Like, bruh, I’m not a pushover. I just wanted to meet my husband and try to understand him.”No one had ever tried to understand me, not my parents, not the people around me, not the men who claimed to love me. All they ever saw was my name, my money, my body. I was nothing more than a sparkling diamond on display, something to be owned, flaunted, and used until I lost my shine.Love had long become a meaningless game. I used those fake confessions from men as temporary distractions, to fill the vo

Japhet’s POV “Dad, I gotta go. Excuse me.” I stood and walked out of the living room before he could say another word. Returning to my bedroom, I grabbed my credit cards and passport from the drawer. I need to settle down in France for a few days and look for that woman. That’s the least I could do if I want to find her again. I changed into casual wear black pants, a fitted black shirt, topped with a leather jacket and a pair of gloves. Looking in the mirror, I smirked faintly. This is the perfect disguise. No attention, no headlines. The less noise I made, the better. I didn’t plan on letting my father find out I was going to France. If he did, he’d definitely inform Chairman Mark Chris and that’s something I could never let happen. I rubbed my forehead in frustration, thinking through the logistics. Then I slipped out of the mansion quietly, unnoticed by my parents. I asked one of the bodyguards to drive me to the airport. I couldn’t use a private jet; that would attract too m

Japhet’s POVLukers Mansion — New York“What did you say?” I exploded, slamming my palm on the desk. “She SIGNED the contract marriage papers?!”I could practically hear Erick grinning smugly through the phone.Of course he found this hilarious.I put those insane terms in the contract for one reason — so that brat would reject it and the engagement would collapse peacefully. But no. Instead, she signed the papers and then strutted out to a nightclub like she had won a crown.Humiliation. That’s what it was.Pure, burning humiliation for our family name.“How could she disrespect Dad like that?” I growled, pacing like a caged tiger.“Calm down, brother,” Erick chuckled. “She’s rude, yes… but your future wife is—”“Finish that sentence wisely,” I warned.“A goddess,” he finished anyway, sounding annoyingly dreamy. “Perfect curves, perfect face, perfect—”I disconnected the call before he could finish reviewing her anatomy like he was describing artwork.Whatever. I didn’t care how she

Anastasia POV“Get ready for your marriage. I will be arriving in a few hours with your in-laws!”SayIng that, he hung up the call, leavIng me confused. I ran my fingers through my curls and murmured, “What does he mean by ‘get ready’? Are the groom’s parents arriving wIth my dad?”Before I could thInk about escapIng, someone knocked on my door. I opened It to my worst fear. My mom and head maId, Alina, stood there with big boxes. It wasn’t surprising; my mom always kept a keen eye on me.“Should I give up and see what my husband is like? If he’s handsome then I might consider getting married,” I thought as Alina and my mom did my hair and makeup.“Hey Ana, can you please keep a smiling face when your in-laws arrive?” my mom requested after seeing me sigh and frown continuously.“Okay mom, I will. But if my future husband is ugly, I’m not getting married.”I said it clearly—no confusion, no manipulation. It’s not like I’m short on money and would marry someone extremely old or ugly.“

Selene’s POVFour moons.That was how long I’d been gone from the packhouse. Four moons since I’d walked out of the Alpha’s wing and left behind the life everyone believed I would crawl back to.And for those four nights, my communicator crystal hadn’t stopped pulsing.Damon called at dawn, dusk, midnight. His voice broke through the static, raw and pleading, his pride stripped bare.“Selene, please. Just answer me.”“You know I love you. You know I never betrayed you.”“Lyra meant nothing. The pups— they don’t change what we have.”He even sent written messages through the bond—apologies, declarations, desperate promises.I didn’t answer any of them.More than once, my claws itched to reach for the crystal, to tell him what his betrayal had carved out of me. But I stopped myself every time.Because deep down, I hadn’t expected him to care this much.He hadn’t been this desperate when I’d bled through my miscarriages alone. He hadn’t been this attentive when he’d missed our healer app

Selene’s POVThe villa doors yawed open before we even crossed the threshold. Two attendants stood in the entry, bowing as if they’d been waiting on my arrival all evening. Their faces were composed; their eyes betrayed the curiosity of those who know more than they dare say.“Welcome, Luna,” the taller one murmured. “We’ve prepared your chamber.”Of course they had.Aric had called ahead.Even here — in this private refuge that promised anonymity — his presence lingered like a scent. I was breathing because of his choice. I was alive, at least for the moment, because he’d decided I should be. That thought pressed into me with a weight I couldn’t decide if I liked or feared.Diana and I drifted past marble floors and glass walls into a house that felt built from restraint and taste. High ceilings arched above, warm lantern light softened the edges, and the gardens beyond gleamed in discreet pools of silver. Nothing ostentatious. Everything deliberate. Aric’s world: power that didn’t s

Selene’s POVThe engine’s low hum filled the night, steady and hollow like a heartbeat in a crypt.“Where to, Luna?” the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. His tone was careful—deferential—but I caught the flicker of pity in his eyes.Where to?For the first time in my life, I had no answer.The city beyond the glass blurred into ribbons of light—wolves laughing outside taverns, children chasing each other through alleys, mates walking hand in hand beneath the silver moon. Ordinary lives. Lives untouched by thrones, by bonds, by betrayal. Lives I had never known.My father’s voice echoed through my head:I can’t shelter you, Selene. I swore fealty to Queen Ivana.Translation: You’re on your own.The truth hit harder than claws to the heart. I had no den. No pack. No plan. Every part of my existence had been curated by rank and bloodlines—my path written in moonlight ink long before I was born.Was I foolish to walk away? Reckless?Maybe.But the thought of Damon

Selene’s POVThe packhouse doors groaned open under my touch, a sound I’d heard a thousand times, but never as heavy as now.My father stepped inside, his aura crackling like a brewing storm.“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, commanding, Alpha-deep the kind of voice that once made the whole pack obey.I didn’t bow. “I’m leaving the Bloodmoon Pack.”His jaw tightened, his wolf flashing in his eyes. “You can’t walk away from your mate from the Alpha. The bond doesn’t work that way.”I shrugged, lips curving bitterly. “Then I’ll live unbound in spirit.”His gaze darkened. “And where will you go? Because hear me well, Selene I can’t shelter you. I swore fealty to Queen Ivana of the Silverfang Court. If I defy her, I lose everything.”I laughed a hollow, breaking sound. “So you sold your daughter for rank?”His voice hardened like stone. “I did it for your future.”“No,” I whispered, steel beneath my tone. “You did it for yours.”He took a step closer, softening, try

Selene’s POVLuna Ivana never broke her promises.And that was the problem. Her promises were never gifts, they were traps, wrapped in silk and sealed with poison.The next morning, she summoned my parents.They arrived with stiff backs and tighter expressions, every step echoing their shame. My father didn’t meet my eyes. My mother, pale and dignified, looked like a ghost of herself.Whatever they thought of Ivana now, it didn’t matter. They had made their bargain long ago. Now they were swallowing the cost.“You’ll have to be strong,” my mother whispered, brushing her fingers against mIne In the corridor. “Rhea may have given hIm pups, but she’ll never be you. Play your part. When you’re Luna, you can make them pay.”I stared at her, cold. “I don’t want revenge, Mother. I want peace.”But she didn’t hear me. Or maybe she didn’t care. To her, peace was a luxury, power was survival.By evening, the Great Hall had been transformed into a stage. Pack members filled the rows. Reporters

Selene’s POVWe rode like fugitives.The night wInd whipped against my skIn, tangling my hair, pushIng tears from my eyes that had nothing to do with the speed of the horse. Every thundering hoofbeat felt like rebellion—like freedom.And beside me, Aric didn’t falter. He commanded his steed like he was born in the saddle, steady, controlled, every line of him radiating strength.He didn’t speak. Neither did I. But silence wasn’t empty with him. It was a storm waiting to break.When we finally slowed, It was at a cliff rIdge overlooking the packlands.Eldemere sprawled beneath us, rooftops glittering under the moonlight, towers pIercIng the night sky, the banners of our pack barely stirring in the still aIr.“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, breathless from the ride, from hIm.Aric dismounted and stood at the edge, hIs coat flaring In the breeze, one hand tucked in hIs pocket. He looked like he belonged to the horizon, not thIs packhouse of cages.“The world is far more beautiful,” he sai