LOGINDisguised as a boy. Hunted as a mate. Trained to be an Alpha. Ari never wanted to be anyone’s Luna—especially not to Alpha Malrick, the ruthless Alpha she was being forced to marry. To escape her fate she changes her identity. She cuts her hair, masks her scent, and joins the all-male Alpha Training Academy, where strength reigns and weakness is punished. But something else is waiting for her. Her dorm mate Kai Thorn the arrogant, cocky, and devastatingly attractive heir to the Shadowfang Pack is her mate. The mate bond starts burning between them… and he has no idea she’s a girl. When her secret is exposed, Arden must fight for more than freedom. The academy turns on her. Malrick wants revenge. And Kai? He’ll risk everything to keep her safe—even if it means going against everything he stands for.
View MoreAgainst my better instinct, I peeled my eyes on the small crack between the doors and listened.
“…the marriage is settled,” Father said, his voice low but firm. “Alpha Malrick wants her, and I have no reason to refuse. It is a bond that will strengthen our pack.” My breath caught. Malrick Voss? My father wants to marry me off to Alpha Malrick Voss the alpha of y knees became weak. The name alone was enough to make my wolf—Liora—let out a low, growl inside me. "He’s… older than her. Cruel, even for his reputation." Beta Rowan’s spoke, hesitant, as though even he feared speaking the truth. "She has no choice.” Father snapped. “The contract is signed. Alpha Malrick will have her. This union will secure Silverbane’s future. Malrick’s wealth and power will make us the strongest pack in the northern territories. My daughter will play her role. She will be silent, obedient, and grateful." My chest burned. My father didn’t just decide my future—he sold it. "And if she resists?" Rowan asked carefully. "Then she will learn obedience," my father hissed. "She is nothing without my name. Nothing without my protection. She is my daughter and she'll do what I ask. No questions asked.” I covered my mouth, my hands trembled to stop the gasp that tried to escape my throat. No. This can’t be happening. I had known my father to be stern and unyielding, but to trade me off like a bargaining chip? To Malrick of all people? It made me weak.to my bones. I ran without looking back. Liora’s voice erupted in my mind the moment I closed the door. “We cannot stay, Aria. He’ll send us to that monster, and Malrick will kill us—piece by piece.” “I know,” I whispered aloud, pressing my back against the door. “I know.” Tears rolled down my checks. My father’s words weren’t a shock, not really. I had always been a pawn in his games, but hearing it—hearing how he casually condemned me to a lifetime with that cruel and evil Alpha made bile rise in my throat. I slowly got out of my room and crawled until I was in the small curve of the house where my Aunt Luma stayed. Her lamp was still burning but the light was dim. Her room smelled of dried herbs which I could smell from the door post. I opened the door without knocking. “Aunt,” She looked up from the worn book she's been holding, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the worry on my face. “Aria? What’s wrong?” I heard him,” I whispered, slamming the door shut behind me, shaking. “I heard Father.” Her eyes sharpened. She set the book aside and rose slowly. “What did you hear?” “That he’s…he’s giving me to Alpha Malrick.” My voice broke on his name. My hands flew to my chest to steady myself. My heart was breaking into pieces, all I wanted was to hear that it's all a lie. A bad joke, although I already knew the answer. “Tell me Aunt Luma. It's not true right? Father must be joking.” Her silence confirmed it. I couldn't control my tears anymore. I let them fall. “No. No, tell me they’re lying. Tell me this is just—just some horrible misunderstanding.” Aunt Luma heaved a heavy sigh. She came closer and held my hands. She squat before me, looking at me with something in her eyes—pity. “Aria,” she said softly, “it’s true.” The words hit me harder than any blow. I staggered back, shaking my head furiously. “No! Father can't do this to me! Not to him! That man is a monster, everyone knows it. I won’t.” I wept bitterly as I sank to the floor. The ground was cold but I was too overcomed by pain to notice. “Why?” I cried. “Why would he do this? I’m hisdaughter, not some pawn on his chessboard. How can he throw me to Malrick like… like I’m nothing?”
Aunt Luma bent down beside me, smoothing my hair with a tenderness I hadn’t felt in years. “Because to your father, power is everything. Malrick’s alliance will secure his position but he doesn’t see what it will do to you, child. He doesn’t want to see it.” Her words made my blood boil with anger. The fury and devastation clashd inside me like a storm. “Aunt Luma,” I grabbed her hand desperately. “Please, help me! I can’t marry him. I’d rather die than be chained to Malrick.” Her face softened but it vanished in a second. I could tell she was trying to make up her mind, to pick a side. Her brother, my father or the love she has for me. She drew a slow breath, her gaze looking toward the door as if she was afraid the walls themselves might be listening. “Aria,” she whispered. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” “I do!” I held her hands tight. “You’re the only one that I trust. If I stay, it'll be over for me. I'll be shipped off to Alpha Malrick. Please, Aunt, I don’t want my life to end before it begins. You have to help me escape.” Her face turned into a frown. She studied me for a long, agonizing moment, and in that silence I could hear my heart beating loud in my ears. Finally, she exhaled. “You foolish, brave girl…” I breathed a sigh of relief. “You will help me?” There was resolve in her eyes. She nodded, once. “Yes. I’ll help you.” I wept once more. Not in pains but relief. I jumped on her and hugged her tight.” she stiffened, then softened, hugging me back. Her arms were warm and firm around me, and for a moment, I felt safe, protected. Safe in a world that had almost crushed me. “Thank you,” I whispered against her shoulder, my voice cracking. “Aunt Luma thank you. I'll do whatever it takes I swear it. I will not forget this.” She pulled back, cupping my face with her rough hands. “Don’t thank me yet. What lies ahead will not be easy. If you truly want freedom, you are going to fight harder than you’ve ever fought before. Do you understand?” I nodded, tears still spilling but determination was slowly beginning to rise in my heart. “I understand.”Aria's POVThe pain in my leg had settled from a sharp, screaming agony into a deep, constant throb. The other pain was quieter, it was a hollow in my chest, a space that seemed to grow larger with every passing hour… the pain of watching Kai fracture before my eyes.He moved through the hall like a man haunted, his broad shoulders carrying a weight that bowed them slightly. He tended to the wounded, mediated squabbles over water rations, paced before the barricaded doors. He was doing everything an Alpha should. But his eyes… his eyes were never on the task at hand. They were always tracking to the corner, to the silent sentinel by the window.Sylvie.I understood, gods knew I understood. His sister, risen from the dead, a walking scar of their father’s betrayal. The shock, the guilt, the desperate, giddy hope—it was a storm that would break any man but it was settling over him, a permanent fog that left no room for anything else. Including me.He’d bandaged my leg with a tenderness
Malrick's POVI lay on cold stone in a forgotten alcove off the lower kitchens, a place that smelled of old grease and damp mortar. The world had narrowed to the ceiling above me—a lattice of water-stained cobwebs and blackened beams—and the hands that moved over me.They belonged to Derek, the only one of my wolves who had managed to extricate himself from the courtyard’s collapse. His efficiency was born of panic, not skill. He’d hauled me here through servant passages, a trail of my blood marking our frantic retreat. Now, he worked with a stolen kit of bandages and a bottle of liquor that burned like acid when poured into the wound on my side.“Hold still,” he grunted, his voice tight. He was afraid.I did not speak just quietly observed. That was my function now, to observe the failure of my own body.Alistair’s blade… deflected at the last micro-second by my twist and the ghost-girl’s intervention. Instead of piercing my heart, it had laid open a long, deep trench along my ribs.
Kai's POV The air in the Great This was supposed to be victory. This hall should be roaring with the chaos of celebration, not the chaos of dying. We should be toasting the end of Malrick’s madness, the preservation of the bonds. I stood near the barricaded doors, my shoulder leaning against the cold stone of the archway. From here, I could see the whole terrible panorama.My people—my pack, and the shattered remnants of others—were scattered like dropped toys across the floor. The wounded. My eyes skipped over them, my mind reluctantly putting names to the moans: Lorcan, arm shattered. Marta from the eastern croft, a deep gash across her scalp, pale and still from blood loss. And for what? A truth that felt like a different kind of weapon?My gaze was pulled, to the corner by the window. Sylvie. My sister. The word felt foreign and fragile in my mind… She hadn’t moved. She was a statue, the girl I remembered was all soft edges and quick laughter, a shadow who followed me with unw
Aria's POV The Great Hall was never meant for this.Its high, vaulted ceiling, carved with scenes of noble hunts and first moon ceremonies, now looked down on a scene of grisly, gasping reality. The long tables, where initiates had shared meals and stories, were shoved against the walls. In their place, on the cold flagstone floor, lay the wounded.The air, once smelling of wood smoke and roasting meat, was now a thick, metallic soup of blood, sweat, and the sharp, clean scent of fear. Moans and ragged breaths formed a low, constant hum beneath the sharper cries when a bone was set or a wound was probed. Torches flickered in their sconces, casting jumping, monstrous shadows that made the scene feel even less real.I was propped against the base of it all, my own leg a white-hot brand of agony. But a healer’s instincts run deeper than pain. My eyes scanned the chaotic triage, my mind automatically categorizing: critical, stable, walking wounded. We had no real healers left—the elders






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