Romances de Emmanuel Onyilo

The Alpha’s office had not changed in five years.I walked through the heavy oak doors, and the scent hit me instantly. It was a rich mixture of old paper, polished mahogany, and the dark, forest-like musk of Ashren Thalric. It was a smell that used to make my knees weak when I was a foolish girl hiding in the shadows of the hallway, hoping for just a glimpse of the future Alpha. Now it just smelled like regret.I moved to the center of the room. The large desk was covered in clutter. There were handwritten reports, coffee mugs stained with dregs, and a massive paper map of the territory pinned to the corkboard on the wall. Red pins marked the sites of rogue attacks. The map was bleeding red. It looked like a losing game of strategy played by a man who was running out of pieces."Clear the room," I said to the Silver Creek warriors who had followed us in. My voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a command that brooked no argument.The Gamma, a stout man named Hareth, whom I rem

The noise of the rotors was deafening, a rhythmic thumping that vibrated through the metal floor of the helicopter and traveled up into the soles of my boots.I sat strapped into the bucket seat of the royal transport, my hands resting loosely on my knees. To anyone watching, I looked calm. I looked like General Elara, the right hand of the king, en route to another routine extermination mission. I was wearing my field uniform: black cargo pants tucked into combat boots, a fitted charcoal tactical shirt, and a heavy utility belt filled with silver-laced knives and flashbangs.But beneath the calm exterior, my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.I looked out the small circular window. Below us, the landscape was a blur of white and green. We were flying over the Northern Mountains, descending into the valley where the Borderlands lay.Even from two thousand feet in the air, I recognized the shape of the river. I recognized the dense cluster of pine trees that marke

Five Years Later"Again."The command left my lips in a sharp hiss, cutting through the heavy, humid air of the training hall. Sweat dripped down my spine, soaking the black tactical gear that clung to my skin like a second shadow.Across the sparring mat, Commander Drax hesitated. The man who had once carried me out of the snow like a broken doll was now breathing hard, his chest heaving with exertion. A bruise was already blooming on his jaw, a dark purple mark against his pale skin where my heel had connected moments ago."Your Highness," Drax panted, wiping blood from a split lip. "We have been at this for four hours. The Council meeting is in twenty minutes. Perhaps we should.""I said again," I repeated.I did not wait for his agreement. I launched myself forward.I moved faster than any wolf could track. To a human eye, I would have been nothing but a blur of motion. My speed was not natural; it was Lycan. It was the product of five years of brutal conditioning, five years of b

The walk to the border was a funeral march for a life I never really had.My feet left bloody prints in the pristine snow, a red trail marking the path of my exile. The physical pain in my chest had dulled into a heavy, throbbing ache, but the emptiness was worse. The bond was gone. The thread that was supposed to tie me to Kael, to my home, and to my future had been severed with a few cruel words spoken from a balcony.I hugged my arms around my chest, trying to hold my broken pieces together. The wind howled through the pines, whipping my hair across my face and stinging my eyes.Wolfless.Rejected.Rogue.The words circled in my mind like vultures waiting for a carcass. I was no longer Elara Vance of the Silver Creek Pack. I was nothing. I was a ghost walking through the woods, waiting for the inevitable end.I stumbled over a hidden root and fell hard onto the frozen earth. The impact jarred my bones, sending a fresh wave of nausea through my stomach. I lay there for a moment, pre

The wind that howled through the Silver Creek Pack territory carried the scent of snow and pine, but tonight, it also carried the scent of fear. My fear.I stood at the back of the amphitheater, my bare feet numb against the frozen grass. The hem of my white ceremonial dress fluttered around my ankles. It was a simple garment made of thin linen, hardly enough to ward off the biting chill of late December. Everyone else wore fur coats or thick wool cloaks over their ceremonial attire, huddled together in warm clusters under the glow of the heat lamps lining the perimeter.I stood alone.I was always alone."Look at her," a voice whispered from a group of girls to my left. "She is shaking like a leaf.""She knows what is coming," another voice sneered. "The runt knows she will not shift. Waste of a dress, if you ask me."I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, staring at a patch of frost that sparkled under the floodlights. I learned a long time ago that engaging with them only made it wors