Novels by Lucy Doe

He knew something was wrong with him long before anyone else said it out loud. It showed in the mirror first.His cheeks had hollowed slightly, shadows lingering beneath his eyes no matter how much he slept. His clothes hung looser now, sleeves slipping farther down his wrists, collars sitting wrong against his collarbones. Customers at the cafe tilted their heads when they looked at him, brows knitting with concern they tried and failed to hide.“You’ve lost weight,” one of the regulars said gently one morning, passing him exact change like it was something fragile.Ari smiled automatically. “Must be the stress.”It was easier than explaining that food tasted like nothing half the time. That his appetite came and went without warning. That his chest felt perpetually tight, as if something inside him was pulling in two directions at once.Ari told himself he was fine.He repeated it like a mantra while wiping counters already clean, while smiling at customers he barely registered, se

The summons came at dawn.Riven Kaelthorne was already awake, standing at the window of his quarters, watching Highcrest bleed from night into morning. Sirens faded. Drones shifted routes. The city breathed uneasy, alert.The chime at his door was sharp. Official. He didn’t need to read the message to know why.The Council chamber felt colder than usual. Or maybe that was just him.Elder Thane stood at the center, hands folded, eyes unreadable. Two others flanked her, their presence heavy with expectation.“We are here to discuss your unauthorized response,” Thane said, wasting no time.Riven inclined his head. “The patrol flagged a disturbance.”“A minor one,” another Elder cut in. “Already resolved by the time you arrived.”Riven said nothing.Thane’s gaze sharpened. “It was in Ari Lorne’s district.”The name echoed in the chamber, subtle but deliberate.Riven kept his face smooth. His Alpha stirred, restless, angry but he locked it down.“You redirected an elite unit,” Thane contin

Riven Kaelthorne stood before the Council without bowing.The chamber was carved from black stone and glass, circular and oppressive, its walls etched with sigils that hummed softly wards meant to remind even Alphas that power here was conditional. Light filtered down from above like a judgment rather than illumination.“You have been… reactive,” Elder Thane said, her voice smooth as polished steel.Riven clasped his hands behind his back, posture immaculate. “I respond to threats.”“Minor disturbances,” another Elder corrected. “Petty disputes. Areas that do not require Alpha Commander intervention.”Riven’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly which areas they meant.Ari’s district.“The city is under strain,” Thane continued. “Rogue activity is increasing. We need our enforcers focused. Not distracted.” The word slid between them like a blade.“I am not distracted,” Riven said evenly.A pause.Then: “You are bonded.”The word echoed louder than it should have.Riven’s Wolf surged violent

Ari did not cry when he left the Council chambers.He didn’t cry when the doors closed behind him, sealing away their polished cruelty. He didn’t cry as he walked through corridors built to intimidate, lined with symbols of balance that felt more like threats than promises.He waited.He waited until he was outside, until Highcrest’s noise wrapped around him,hover trams humming overhead, voices colliding, life continuing without permission. Even then, the tears never came.What settled instead was something sharper.Resolve.The suppression chip the Council had offered burned like a weight in his pocket. Not heavy. Just present. A reminder that obedience was expected, that silence was required.Ari curled his fingers around it once.Then let go.Highcrest moved around him as if nothing had changed. Trams glided past, vendors argued over prices, neon signs flickered back to life after the storm. The world did not pause for bonds or Councils or broken words spoken in the dark.Ari adjus

Riven Kaelthorne did not look back. That was the part that hurt the most. Ari stood frozen in the wreckage of the cafe long after the storm swallowed Riven’s retreating figure. Rain pooled on the floor where the door had once been, the scent of Alpha authority fading inch by inch until only the bitter tang of fear and loss remained. He told himself it didn’t matter. Riven was an Alpha Commander. Untouchable. Arrogant by reputation alone. Of course he would walk away. Of course he would pretend the words meant nothing. You’re mine. Ari clenched his jaw, refusing to let the memory tighten his chest any further. By morning, the Council had already heard about what happened. They always did. Ari stood stiffly in the polished marble hallway outside Riven’s office, fingers curled around the strap of his worn satchel. The building was all glass and steel cold, imposing, designed to remind everyone who held power. The secretary barely glanced at him. “Commander Kaelthorne will see y

The storm did not creep in quietly. It arrived like a declaration thunder slamming against the sky, rain lashing the streets of Highcrest City with unrestrained fury. Wind howled through the narrow alley behind the cafe, rattling the windows hard enough to make the hanging lights sway. Inside, Ari worked alone. He moved slowly, mop gliding across the tiled floor, the scent of cleaning solution barely masking the lingering warmth of coffee and pastries. The cafe was closed chairs flipped onto tables, lights dimmed low but Ari’s instincts refused to settle. His chest felt tight. He hummed under his breath, a nervous habit he hated, trying to drown out the unease crawling up his spine. Omegas were taught to trust their senses, and his were screaming. Something was wrong. Ari paused mid-stroke. The mop dripped water onto the floor, the sound echoing far too loudly in the quiet space. His skin prickled, fine hairs rising along his arms. The storm outside wasn’t the problem. It was t

The pack had always whispered. Kyrian had learned long ago how to ignore it. the soft murmurs behind his back, the sideways glances, the way conversations shifted when he entered a room. Omegas learned early that silence was safer than curiosity. But this time, the whispers were different. They followed him openly now. Kyrian felt it the moment he stepped into the lower halls that morning. Conversations paused. Eyes tracked him. Even the air felt heavier, thick with unspoken judgment. “Did you feel that?” “No omega smells like that unless..” “Impossible. The Alpha’s...” Kyrian kept his head down, fingers clenched around the basket of herbs he carried. His chest ached with every step, the bond dull but wounded, like something alive that had learned to stop screaming because no one listened. He passed a group of omegas near the washing basins. They fell silent as he approached. One of them young, barely more than a boy looked at him with something like awe. And fear.

Kyrian Days have passed since I last saw Alpha Damon, my mate. I’ve been getting weird stares and hush whispers from some of the pack members especially the omegas. I guess a large number of the pack members noticed the exchange between I and the alpha during the pack gathering. The change in Damon’s aura, the emotions in my eyes and how I fell to my knees when he looked away during the lunar moon ceremony.They obviously don’t know what’s going on but they were suspicious.Retreating towards the eastern corridor of the pack house.I moved quietly, head bowed, shoulders drawn inward, as though making myself smaller might dull the ache tearing through his chest. The bond had gone quiet again, smothered, buried but the damage lingered. Rejection echoed in every step I took.The corridor narrowed near the gardens, moonlight spilling in through arched windows. I did notice Damon until it was too late. Turning the corner and collided with a solid chest.Strong hands caught my arms ins

DamonDamon had faced war without flinching.He had stood at the edge of his territory, blood on his hands and smoke in the sky, making decisions that determined whether his people lived or died. Fear had never ruled him. Doubt had never slowed him.But this bond was something else entirely.Damon left the open field just as the gathering began to break apart. Guards straightened as he passed, lowering their heads instinctively, sensing the storm beneath his controlled exterior.The crowd seemed to shift around him without him slowing his steps, wolves moving aside instinctively as he passed. The last light of the day caught his tall frame, stretching his shadow long across the grass. His stride was confident and his posture remained straight and steady, untouched by the noise behind him. He did not look back at the pack, as if he had already said everything that needed to be said. As he walked toward the darker path leading away from the field, his presence lingered, heavy and unde

Kyrian’s pov I was just an omega. A weak one. I had no claws for fighting.No strength for battle. My first instinct was to run, to flee into the trees and disappear but my legs refused to move. Fear locked me in place, heavy and crushing, rooting me to the ground.A shadow rushed past me.Another scream followed, closer this time. Too close.I turned in time to see a rogue wolf charging straight at me, eyes wild, teeth bared, blood straining his muzzle. He was fast. Faster than me. Faster than my fear could process. I couldn’t breathe.I couldn’t scream.I was going to die.Then everything happened at once.A massive black wolf slammed into the enemy from the side with terrifying force.The impact shook the ground beneath my feet. Dirt and ash flew into the air. Blood splashed. The rogue didn’t even have time to cry out before his neck snapped with a sickening crack.Silence fell for one sharp second, terrifying second.The black wolf turned.Gold eyes burned through the smoke

Kyrian’s povI couldn’t sleep.Every time I closed my eyes, the pain in my chest burned hotter, suffocating me. The bond pulsed like a wound that refused to close. My body felt wrong, too warm, too weak, too aware of someone who did not want me. I let my tears fall freely, over and over again until I couldn’t cry anymore. I knew he felt my sadness and hurt through the mate bond, but he had built up a wall around himself to shut out my emotions he would not, let it reach him.“My chest hurts.“It hurts so bad.” I whispered, curling into myself on the narrow bed. My arms wrapped around me, the old mattress as flat as a blanket from continuous use over the years this bed had held me, the springs pressed into my back through the flat worn out fabric. I could feel every dent. I looked at my best friend Dylan sleeping across the room, unaware of my torment. I wasn’t ready to tell him anything yet. I didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, the sympathy that always made me feel smaller.

Kyrian was gathering camomile petals at the forest behind the pack house when the world tilted.Not enough to make him fall.But enough to make him stop breathing for half a second, his vision blurred. His fingers froze at the tip of the flower as he was about to pick the petals. The soft yellow petals trembled beneath his touch. Something deep in his chest pulled tight, sharp and sudden like an invisible thread being yanked without warning.Kyrian knew what that feeling meant.“Mate,” He whispered The word tasted strange in his mouth.Kyrian swallowed and slowly straightened, his breath shallow, his heart beating too fast for a moment that should have been peaceful. The forest was calm. The wind barely stirred the petals. Nothing had changed except him.The bond had awakened.“No… please, no,” He whispered. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, the shears slipping from his fingers to the ground as his hands began to tremble.Not because he didn’t believe in fate. Not beca