Romane von Joe

The darkness in the Great Hall was absolute, a thick, suffocating velvet punctured only by the sounds of wet tearing and the panicked bellows of the "mighty" Alphas who had been bidding on my life seconds ago. I stood on the stage, the silver collar around my neck vibrating so hard it felt like it would shatter my collarbones."Light the torches! Someone light the damn torches!" Alpha Thorne’s voice screamed from the pit, stripped of all its previous arrogance.A spark caught, then a flame. The flickering orange light revealed a scene from a nightmare.Caleb wasn't the man who had loved me for three years. He wasn't even the cold Alpha who had collared me. He was a mass of shadow and muscle, standing over the crumpled, bleeding form of Alpha Roderick. His eyes remained pitch black—voids that swallowed the firelight."Caleb?" I whispered, my voice trembling.He didn't look at me. He turned his head toward Alpha Thorne, his upper lip pulling back to reveal teeth that had grown into

The velvet of the stage curtain felt like a shroud. My emerald gown had been stripped away, replaced by a thin, translucent white shift that left me feeling more naked than if I’d had nothing on at all. The silver collar around my neck hummed with a low, agonizing vibration, a leash keeping my very soul anchored to the floorboards."Smile, Elara," Seraphina’s voice hissed from the wings. She looked radiant in gold, her hand resting possessively on Caleb’s shoulder. "You’re the star of the evening. Don't ruin the price.""You’re a monster," I rasped, my voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd in the Great Hall."I’m a businesswoman," she countered, her eyes flashing that eerie violet. "And right now, you’re the most valuable asset the Silver-Moon pack owns. Do you have any idea how much a high-line breeder brings in on the open market? Enough to fund a war."The curtains swept open. The light blinded me, but the scent hit me first—a toxic cocktail of musk, testosterone, and

The cold stone of the dungeon floor bit into my knees, but the burning in my throat from the silver collar was worse. The violet light from Seraphina’s ritual dagger was still etched into my retinas. A three-year experiment. That’s all I was.The heavy iron door groaned on its hinges. I didn't look up. I expected Marcus or one of Seraphina’s lackeys to come for another round of "harvesting.""Eat," a deep, gravelly voice commanded.I looked up. It wasn't Marcus. It was Silas.He was the pack’s lethal Enforcer—the man even the elders feared. He didn't have the sneer of the other warriors. He stood like a shadow given form, his eyes two chips of frozen obsidian. He held a wooden bowl of broth, but he didn't throw it at me. He set it down gently."I’m not hungry for your master’s leftovers, Silas," I spat, though my voice was a broken rasp."It’s not his," Silas said, leaning against the damp wall. "And he’s not my master.""Could have fooled me," I said, leaning back against the

The silver collar around my neck pulsed with a dull, rhythmic ache, dampening my senses and making every step toward the servant quarters feel like wading through chest-high mud. Caleb and Marcus had left me with a final warning: Stay in your room or lose your tongue. But the fire burning in my gut wouldn't let me sit still. If Caleb was complicit in Seraphina’s "stabilization" efforts, then the man I loved had died years ago in the ruins of the Iron-Claw pack.I didn't go to the kitchens. I didn't go to my cell. Instead, I ducked into the shadows of the grand staircase, heading toward the guest wing—the suite currently occupied by the "Luna-to-be."The hallways were suspiciously quiet. Most of the guards were at the perimeter, preparing for the upcoming eclipse ceremony. I slipped into Seraphina’s suite, the scent of those lilies and that chemical poison hitting me like a physical wall."Looking for a way out, Elara?" a voice didn't say. The room was empty.I went straight for he

The kitchen air felt heavy, thick with the scent of lye and the lingering trace of Caleb’s cedar-scented warning. I stood there, my fingers still tingling from the silver vial he’d dropped, when the heavy oak doors creaked.Seraphina drifted in, her nightgown trailing like a shroud. She wasn’t wearing the diamonds now, but the predatory gleam in her eyes was brighter than any gemstone. She held a crystal goblet filled with a shimmering, amber liquid."Still scrubbing, Elara?" she cooed, her voice dripping with a sweetness that made my skin crawl. "You really are a tireless little worker. It’s almost a shame to see such dedication wasted on a floor."I tightened my grip on the scrub brush, my knuckles white. "What do you want, Seraphina? It’s three in the morning. Shouldn't you be tucked into the Alpha’s bed?"She didn't flinch. She simply walked closer, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. "I couldn't sleep. The 'misunderstanding' earlier... it sat poorly with me. I’m not a cru

The clock in the bell tower chimed two in the morning, the sound vibrating through the hollow ache in my chest. My hands were raw, the skin puckered and bleeding from hours of scrubbing the kitchen floors with caustic lye. Seraphina had made sure I had no mop—only a hand brush and a bucket of freezing water."Still working, little breeder?"I didn't turn around. I knew that voice. It was one of Seraphina’s personal guards, a man named Silas who seemed to take a sickening pleasure in watching my fall from grace."The floors don't scrub themselves, Silas," I muttered, moving my bucket an inch."Alpha says you’re to have the entire east wing finished by dawn. If there’s a speck of grease left, you’ll be lashed. Luna’s orders." He kicked my bucket, splashing the gray, soapy water over my tattered skirt. "Oops. My foot slipped.""Get out," I hissed, my eyes burning."Or what? Will you cry? You’re a servant now, Elara. Get used to the dirt. It’s where you belong." He laughed, the soun