Novels by Howler

Rhea’s POV “It means,” Eryx said evenly, “that the transformation is not gentle. It will demand her entire system. Her organs, her wolf, her bloodline. If her physical strength does not match the spiritual escalation, it will rupture her from within.” Alpha Malric moved so fast I barely registered it. His hand closed around Eryx’s throat, forcing him back against the iron restraint. The chains rattled violently. “You will choose your words carefully,” Alpha Malric said, his voice low and lethal. Eryx did not retract the statement. “The choice is hers. I will not lie to secure her cooperation.” My body felt split down the center. Terror coiled in my stomach, thick and suffocating. At the same time, something inside me burned brighter. Freye’s face appeared in my mind again, not fragile this time, but laughing and alive. I inhaled slowly, trying to steady the shaking in my hands. My palms were damp. My heart would not slow. “If I do this,” I asked, forcing the words through trem

Rhea’s POV “There are things I still cannot tell you,” Eryx said evenly. Eryx straightened slowly despite the chains biting into his wrists, and though Alpha Malric still stood close enough to snap his neck if he so desired, there was something unnervingly composed about him. “You will tell me everything that concerns my territory,” Alpha Malric replied, his voice smooth and controlled, but there was steel beneath it. “You are in no position to ration truth.” Eryx’s gaze shifted briefly to him before returning to me. “My roots. The pack I come from, I cannot name it.” Lyria let out a sharp breath, rolling her eyes. “How convenient.” “It is not convenience,” Eryx answered. “It is survival. Most of my pack is extinct. The rest of us exist in fragments. We are spoken of in old records and dismissed as folklore. Naming us invites attention we do not wish to draw.” Alpha Malric’s eyes narrowed slightly. He began to circle Eryx slowly, like a predator assessing prey that may

Rhea’s POVThe cold didn’t bother me half as much as the silence between us.My confession still clung to my skin like the rainwater soaking through my dress. Every word I had said in the garden felt exposed now, hovering somewhere between Alpha Malric and me, raw and unfiltered. I had admitted I chased luxury. That I chose survival over dignity. That I saw Theon as a doorway instead of a man. Even though Alpha Malric had not judged me, even though he had called it bravery, the shame had not vanished. It simply settled quieter, heavier.Lyria walked ahead of us, her stride brisk, but I could tell she was listening. She had seen us standing too close in the garden. She had noticed the tension. Lyria missed very little.“You both look like you tried to drown each other,” she muttered, glancing back at us as we turned into the stone corridor leading to the holding wing. “Should I be concerned?”“I’m fine,” I answered too quickly.Alpha Malric’s voice followed, lower, smoother. “Focus on

Alpha Malric’s POV“I schemed the whole thing.”She said it like a confession and a challenge at the same time, lifting her chin slightly as though daring me to judge her for it. I did not speak. I simply watched her. The rain softened to a steady curtain around us, and even before she continued, I could feel it. The shame. It rolled off her in quiet waves, subtle but unmistakable, like heat rising from scorched ground.“I know it will come as a shocker,” she went on, inhaling slowly. “But when I was living on the streets, when I had nothing, when hope was just a stupid word people with full stomachs liked to preach, I started wandering into the elite districts on purpose. I would walk those polished streets like I belonged there. I would observe.”Her mouth curved faintly, but there was tension in it.“No one wanted anything to do with a stray,” she said. “But I knew one thing. I was a very beautiful woman.”Despite the heaviness of the night, I almost smiled. “You are.”She rolled h

Alpha Malric’s POV“Theon?” I repeated, my voice lowering instinctively as the name settled between us like something foul. She was shaking, and not from the cold. I had felt bodies tremble before, warriors before battle, subordinates awaiting judgment, but this was different. This was not fear of the present. This was fear resurrected. Her breath turned uneven, thin, scraping out of her lungs as though each inhale had to fight its way through memory.“I don’t know where to start,” she whispered, her fingers curling into the soaked fabric of my shirt. “After I leave… what next? I can’t go back to him. I can’t.” Her voice cracked violently. “And my daughter. What if he isn’t taking care of her? What if she needs me right now and I’m not there?”The way she said that nearly undid me, like a punch to my gut because I knew I was partially responsible for keeping her here. Sure I knew her daughter was down with an uncommon sickness, but witnessing it now first hand at its early stage? I c

Rhea’s POV I ran harder, my laughter breaking into breathless wheezes as the cold rain soaked deeper into my skin, clinging to me like a second pulse. My wolf stirred inside me, delighted by the chaos of it, by the freedom of movement, by the way the storm erased everything else. For a few reckless seconds, I felt unburdened. Alive in a way that did not ache. Alpha Malric caught me just before I reached the stone archway. His arm locked around my waist and the world tilted violently as he tackled me sideways into the wet grass. The impact knocked the air from my lungs and I landed flat on my back with a splash, rain pelting my face as laughter burst out of me in wild, uncontrollable waves. “You—” I gasped between breaths, pushing at his shoulder while trying to inhale. “You tackled me!” “You challenged me,” he replied, hovering over me, one knee braced beside my hip to keep me pinned. “That was unfair,” I protested, laughing so hard my ribs hurt. “You weigh like three of m

EPILOGUEDaphne’s POV *1 year, 3 months later…. Ella twirled in the living room, her sundress spinning like a little daisy in the wind. “Mom, look! I’m a ballerina princess!” she beamed, striking a pose that looked more like a wobbly flamingo. I laughed, placing down the last plate on the table. “You are, sweetheart. The most graceful ballerina I’ve ever seen.” She giggled and spun again. Ever since baby Alex was born, she’d taken her role as big sister very seriously. She tried to change his diapers once—tried being the key word. She’d whisper stories to him at night and scold anyone who made too much noise while he napped. Today was Alex’s first birthday. Nothing grand—just a small, cozy gathering with a few good people. “Where do you want the juice boxes?” Maryam called out, holding two cartons under her arm while dragging a string of birthday flags with the other. “By the window, love,” I said, before grinning. “You know, this would be faster if you weren’t trying

Daphne’s POV As I stared at Nate’s motionless body, I didn’t know how to feel. Everything around me stilled. The air, the crowd…, the world. “Nate!” Only Claire’s scream pierced through the numbness. Her voice was ragged, shattered, the sound of a soul breaking open. My body didn’t respond. I couldn’t move. My legs were stone, locked in place as I watched her fall to her knees beside him. “Lord,—no, no.” Claire’s hands trembled violently as she pressed them against his chest. “This isn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not when it’s finally over. Not when justice is served…” Her words cracked. “Someone, please! Call the ambulance!” Sebastian was already moving, phone pressed to his ear. He crouched beside her, pulled her against him as she sobbed. I just stood there useless. Everything that happened after that came in flashes. The cold, frigid air, and piercing ambulance sirens. The blur of red and white lights. Claire screaming at the paramedics to move faster. Nate’s body—pale,

Daphne’s POV My body shook, a buzzing filling my ears, tears blurring my vision. “I can’t believe this, Seb. I fucking can’t believe this,” I choked out, hugging him tightly, soaking his t-shirt as he held me close. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Daphne. You fought so well,” Seb whispered in my ear, his voice also shaky. Was this it? The end of Charles Sinclair? The end of the torment, the years of abuse, the never-ending cycle, all because of his selfish desires? It felt surreal. After the sentence was delivered, I watched Mom spiral. She couldn’t comprehend it, seeing the man she had placed on such a high pedestal come crashing down. Richard quickly took her away, but not before giving me a nod of acknowledgement. Seeing Mom like that tugged at my heart. She had ruined not just her life, but ours too. She had stayed with a man who repeatedly hurt her, and it had shattered me time and time again. But I had finally come to terms with it. I wasn’t responsible for her choices.

Daphne’s POV “This is the bank transaction, showing all the dirty work and exploitations,” Nathaniel said, spreading the thick sheaf of papers across the table. Sebastian’s eyes scanned the documents, his brow furrowed. “They’re rigging oil prices too,” he muttered. “Just how rich and powerful is Charles? He couldn’t have done this alone. There’s government involvement here, somewhere.” Nathaniel was back, thank God. Richard had been feeding us information over the phone, piecing together the puzzle of Charles’s illicit activities. After countless meetings with prestigious authorities, and after what felt like an eternity of legislative deliberation, we finally had it: an arrest warrant. But there was a problem. Intelligence suggested Charles was about to flee the country. Someone within the legislative body had tipped him off. Thankfully, Charles was tracked down to his private retreat, a secluded estate far from the city. The apprehension was swift and decisive. He would

Two Weeks Later “That’s great news!” I exclaimed, pulling Seb and Claire into a hug, joy bubbling inside me. We were gathered around the table, Skyping Nathaniel, who had finally gotten his hands on the NGO’s bank statements and transaction records. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, and the chase will finally be over,” Nathaniel muttered with a cashmere smile. It had been two long weeks since Nathaniel traveled to investigate the NGO. Given his position in the ministry, he was able to gain access quickly, posing as an agent sent by me. Charles had been notified by the NGO of my request for the bank statements. Richard informed us that he had been desperately trying to track me down, still clueless about how I’d accessed the files. He was currently hiding in one of his estates in Suncity, under the pretense of being out of town. Our investigation had uncovered vital information, including receipts for bombs and weapons purchased under Charles’s name, weapons that led to the mas

Richard’s voice cut through the heavy silence, the words pulling us against the unspoken emotions hanging in the air. “Now that everything is done, and we have the documents, with Charles’s signature… all you have to do is sign, and the NGO is legally yours.” His jaw was clenched and his gaze distant. He tried to hold it together after Mother left, but I could see the cracks forming. This was just as hard for Richard as it was for me, maybe even harder. Mother had made her choice—time and time again, she chose Father, no matter the cost. Richard kept fighting for her, trying to pull her back from the edge, but she didn’t want to be saved. She never did. Sebastian broke the tension, his voice gentle as he gathered the papers. “She will, once she finds stability. Let’s go home, Daphne you need to rest.” He drew me away from a broken Claire. I turned to Richard, my voice firm with conviction despite the ache in my chest. “Thank you, Richard, for everything. I will see to it that Cha