Novels by S. Doralis

​Cassian’s POV​"Clear the floor!" Noah’s voice boomed over the clinic’s intercom system, his tone dripping with a lethal, alpha authority that turned the air icy. "Every civilian, every staff, out! If you are still in this building in sixty seconds, you will be considered an enemy and you will not survive."​Panic erupted. The sound of fleeing footsteps and shattering glass filled the hallways as people scrambled to obey. I didn't care. I moved like a blur, scenting the air for Aria. My knuckles were already stained dark with the blood of Julian’s men who dared to block my path.​I reached the surgical wing first, kicking the heavy steel doors off their hinges. I expected to see Aria strapped to a table, her skin glowing with that void-touched black. Instead, the room was empty.​The bed was stripped. There was nothing here but a lingering, sickly scent of lavender and a discarded, empty vial of violet liquid rolling across the floor.​Noah stormed in behind me, his eyes glowing a

​Chapter 6: The Judas in White​Cassian’s POV​The silence in the medical wing was louder than the screams at the gala forty-eight hours ago.​I paced the length of the room, my boots clicking loudly against the polished marble. Every instinct in my body was screaming to shift, to tear through the walls, but there was nothing to fight. There was only the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor connected to Aria.​She looked fragile. Her skin was pale and dull, especially the faint outline of where her golden mark used to be. Now, it was just bruised, sensitive-looking skin.​"Stop pacing, Cassian," Noah said from the corner. He sat in a high-backed leather chair, his shirt buttoned to the chin to hide the purple, thumb-shaped bruises Aria had left on his throat. He looked like a king who had lost his crown. "You’re going to wear a hole in the floor."​"She hasn't moved in two days, Noah. The world is burning outside, and she’s just… sleeping."​"She’s not sleeping," a calm voice

​(Noah’s POV)​I had planned for every variable.​The security at the gates, the vintage of the wine, the exact timing of the Northern Alphas' arrival, everything had been anticipated to project one thing: perfection. The Vaelor name was built on the illusion of perfection, and tonight was supposed to be the crowning achievement of my leadership.​I had planned for Aria to be my masterpiece. I wanted them to see her in the red velvet, a flame among the ashes of Blackthorne history. I wanted them to see the mark and understand that I was in control.​I also wanted to see how seductive she would look in that dress. No doubt I was already crazy about her, even though I was doing a poor job of hiding it. My heart skipped as I saw her walk down the steps, her hand locked in my brother’s. He always knew how to provoke me, the way his fingers lingered on her skin, but I couldn't deny the effect she had on the room. She radiated royalty, beauty, and a certain aura that made my mind go numb

Aria's povI was barely awake when the door to my suite was thrown open. I expected a tray of food or worse, one of the brothers. Instead, I got a woman with eyes like flint and hands that felt like ice. She didn't speak much, she just gestured to a dress, a gown of deep, blood-red velvet that looked like a wound against the white fabric.​"Wear it," she commanded. "The Alphas are waiting."​"You're breathing too fast," the maid murmured, her voice like dry leaves.​I didn't answer because I couldn't. The red velvet gown was a masterpiece of cruelty. It was heavy, the weight of it pulling at my shoulders, while the corset was laced so tight it felt like Noah’s iron grip made permanent. ​The neckline was the worst part. It plunged low, specifically designed to frame the golden crescent on my chest. ​I looked in the mirror and I couldn't recognize myself. I didn't see Aria from the forest. I saw a creature of blood and shadow.​"They are waiting, little wolf," a voice rumbled from

Aria's pov​"You’re limping."​"I’m fine," I lied.​I didn't look up from the silk sheets of the bed I’d been confined to for the last forty-eight hours. The voice belonged to Noah, cold, smooth, and as inevitable as the tide. I could feel him standing by the floor-to-ceiling window of the guest suite, the morning sun casting his shadow long across the marble floor.​I didn’t agree to go with him.​That was the lie I told myself every time I closed my eyes and saw the ash of my home. It was the lie I whispered when his hand closed around my wrist, gentle yet firm, a grip that made it clear resistance was a fairy tale I could no longer afford to believe in.​"Omegas don't heal as fast as Alphas, Aria. Don't let your pride make the injury worse." He finally moved, his expensive shoes silent on the rug.​He sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the scent of rain and cedar filled my lungs again, making my wolf stir with a traitorous sense of safety.​"I w

Aria's pov​The silence of the forest was gone, replaced by the heavy, vibrating power of the two men standing before me.​Noah, the one holding me, didn't move. His grip on my waist was like iron, grounding me even as my knees threatened to give way. His scent was everywhere now. It wasn't the earthy smell of my pack; it was rain on hot asphalt and expensive cedarwood. It smelled like power. It smelled like money.​"Let me go," I whispered, my voice trembling.​I tried to squirm, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Noah didn't even flinch. His winter-storm eyes remained fixed on mine, searching my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle.​"You're shaking, little Omega," the other one said.​I looked over Noah's shoulder. Cassian was leaning against a charred tree trunk, looking at the destruction of my home as if it were a bored piece of art. He was a mirror image of Noah, but while Noah was a silent storm, Cassian was a forest fire. He looked messy, dangerous, and