Novels by maryammusamaikibiya

The dining hall was prepared for a formal business dinner, but it felt more like a battlefield. Silas sat at the foot of the table, his eyes fixed on the empty chair at the head. He was waiting for Elara—his "investor"—but his wolf was waiting for a ghost.The doors opened, and Elara walked in. She wasn't alone.Tucked under her arm was a man who looked like he had been sculpted from moonlight and gold. He was tall, lithe, and moved with a grace that made Silas’s blood boil. He wore a suit of deep navy, and his eyes—a striking, royal blue—were fixed on Elara with an intimacy that felt like a slap to Silas’s face."Silas," Elara said, her voice smooth as silk. "I’d like you to meet my personal advisor and the benefactor of Vance International, Prince Julian of the Southern Isles."Silas stood up slowly, his chair scraping against the stone floor with a screech that set everyone’s teeth on edge. The Southern Isles. A kingdom of Lycans even more ancient and wealthy than the Northern Terr

The morning sun hit the Vane Estate with a deceptive brightness, but inside the dining hall, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke a human. I sat at the head of the long mahogany table—the seat traditionally reserved for the Luna.I knew what I was doing. Every time a servant walked by and saw me in that chair, they paled. I was dressed in a blood-red silk blouse, the sleeves pushed up to reveal my slim, elegant wrists. My fingers danced over my tablet as I reviewed the pack’s failing logistics. It was a disaster; Silas had let his empire rot while he chased a ghost.Leo and Luna sat on either side of me, eating their breakfast with a quiet, disciplined dignity that clearly unsettled the staff. They didn't fidget. They didn't whisper. They sat like young royals, their silver-blonde hair catching the morning light."Mommy," Luna whispered suddenly, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth. Her violet eyes—hidden behind the contacts—darted toward the grand entrance. "The bad flower is he

The East Wing of the Vane Estate was a mausoleum of memories I had spent five years trying to burn.As I walked through the corridors, every shadow seemed to whisper my name. I passed the antique vase Silas had bought me for our first anniversary, now covered in a thin layer of dust. I passed the portrait of his grandfather, whose eyes seemed to judge me for returning. I had put the twins to bed in the oversized velvet-draped suite, and the transition was already affecting them. The air in the Northern Territory was thick with primal magic, and my children were soaking it up like parched earth.Leo had fallen asleep clutching a silver letter opener he’d requisitioned from the desk. "To protect you, Mommy," he’d said, his slate-gray eyes fierce before they finally closed. Luna had simply whispered to a moth on the windowpane until it glowed with a faint violet light, then drifted off.But I couldn't sleep. My skin felt too tight for my body, a restless energy buzzing under my surface.

The Northern Territory was exactly as I remembered it—and yet, it felt like a grave.As my private jet descended toward the private airstrip, the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Lycan Mountains rose up to meet us. This air used to taste like home; now, it just tasted like unfinished business. I adjusted the scent-masking patch behind Luna’s ear, making sure the adhesive was perfect."Remember," I whispered, my voice tight. "To them, we are just humans. Expensive, powerful humans. Don't let your eyes flash, and don't let your scents out. If you do, we leave immediately. Understood?""Understood, Mommy," Luna said, her voice unusually somber. Even at five, she could feel the heavy, oppressive magic of this land.Leo just nodded, his small jaw set in a line of pure steel. He was dressed in a miniature charcoal suit that mirrored the one Silas had worn the night he broke my heart. It was a petty choice on my part, but I wanted the visual to be a psychological dagger when Silas finally sa

The sensation of falling is something you never truly forget. The way the air screams past your ears, the weightlessness in your stomach, and the absolute, terrifying certainty that you are about to die. When I hit the black water of the Atlantic, it didn't feel like liquid. It felt like concrete.The cold was an physical assault, instantly numbing my limbs and stealing the air from my lungs. But as the darkness tried to pull me under, a tiny, defiant spark of heat flared in my womb. The baby. That one thought was a jolt of electricity to my heart. I wasn't just Elara anymore; I was a mother. I fought the current, clawing my way toward the jagged rocks of a hidden cove, my fingers raw and bleeding as I dragged myself onto the sand.Above me, on the cliff, I heard a roar. It was Silas. His howl was filled with a grief that sounded so real, so gut-wrenching, that for a second, I almost believed he cared. But I knew better now. He didn't mourn me; he mourned the placeholder he had lost c

The New York rain was cold, but it was nothing compared to the ice settling in my veins. I stood on the sidewalk outside our penthouse, the Petrus wine still damp on my hands, watching the tail lights of Silas’s car disappear into the fog. He was heading to the airport to pick up his True Mate.He didn't even wait for me to pack. He didn't even wait for me to stop shaking.I had exactly two hours before his Beta, Marcus, would arrive to "escort" me out of the territory. In Lycan terms, that was a polite way of saying I was being deported. I took a deep breath, the scent of wet asphalt filling my lungs, and for the first time in three years, my wolf didn't whimper. She growled.Placeholder, she hissed in the back of my mind. We’ll show him who fills the space.I didn't go to a hotel. I went to the one place Silas would never think to look for me: The Lunar Gala. It was the biggest social event of the year for the Northern Packs, and tonight was the night Silas was supposed to announce