LOGINRejected, humiliated, and carrying his children, Evelyn had no choice but to run. She left the Alpha, the lies, and the pack behind—vanishing into the snowstorm of betrayal. Years later, she returns unrecognizable, radiant, and unstoppable. Her glow hides scars, her strength hides secrets, and her children are a reminder of the man who once discarded her. Kael thought he could erase her, but she is no longer the invisible wife he ignored. Now, the tables have turned. Desire, vengeance, and reckoning collide, and the Alpha will learn the cost of underestimating the Luna he once cast aside.
View More"The offer is insulting, Mr. Sterling. And quite frankly, it is boring." I spin my leather chair around to face the floor to ceiling windows of my office on the 40th floor. Below me, the city of New York looks like a circuit board of light and glass. It is a long way from the snowy forests of the West Coast. A long way from the girl who begged for scraps of affection. "Ms. St. Claire," the man across the desk stammers. He is the CEO of a rival fragrance company, sweating in his Italian suit. "Fifty million is a generous buyout. Lumina Scents has only been on the market for three years. You are... you are new to this game." I stand up. I am wearing a tailored white pantsuit, a stark contrast to the invisible girl who wore gray wool. My hair is cut into a sharp, asymmetrical bob, dyed a platinum blonde that shines like a weapon under the office lights. My heels click against the marble floor as I walk toward him. "I am not playing a game, Mr. Sterling," I say, my voice cool and
EVELYN I am going to die. The thought is not frantic. It is cold, just like the snow biting into my bare skin. The blizzard is a white wall of fury. The wind whips my hair across my face, blinding me. My feet are numb. My hands are blue. The pain in my chest, the bleeding wound where the mating bond used to be, is so intense it makes the freezing temperature feel like a mercy. Get up, a voice whispers. It is not my wolf. She is dormant from the rejection. This is the primal instinct of a mother. Move. Or they die. The twins. I gasp, forcing air into my burning lungs, and push myself up from the snowbank. My limbs feel like lead. I stumble toward the garage, slipping on the ice. I do not have my duffel bag, my coat, or my phone. But I have a secret. Three months ago, when Elena announced her return, I taped a spare key underneath the rear bumper of my old SUV. The clunky vehicle Kael hated. I reach the garage. My fingers are so stiff I can barely curl them. I claw at the u
I have a plan. It is a desperate, terrifying plan, but it is the only one I have. I wait until Kael leaves for the Alpha office. I wait until Elena’s high pitched laughter fades down the hallway as she heads to the spa. Then, I move. I pull a duffel bag from the back of my closet, an old gym bag that does not scream Luna. I pack quickly, hands shaking. I do not take the silk dresses or designer heels Kael bought. I take warm sweaters, leggings, and thick socks. Practical survival things. I go to the wall safe behind the painting in the guest room. I take the cash. Five thousand dollars in emergency funds is not much for a Luna, but it is enough for a bus ticket and a cheap motel in a human town where the pack cannot find me. I cannot use my credit cards or the pack cars. Kael tracks them. I have to walk. A storm is coming tonight. A blizzard is dangerous, but it is perfect cover. The snow will hide my scent and the wind will cover my tracks. "Just hold on," I whisper to the
I wake up to the sound of laughter. For a moment, I think I am dreaming. The penthouse is a mausoleum of marble and silence. Then, the nausea hits. I scramble out of bed, barely making it to the bathroom before emptying my stomach. Morning sickness. Right on cue. I splash cold water on my pale face. Dark circles bruise the skin under my eyes. Kael’s words from last night replay in my mind. You have the title. Is that not enough? No. It never was. I dress quickly in high waisted trousers and a loose cream blouse, careful to conceal the nonexistent bump. I need coffee to survive today. I follow the scent of brewing coffee downstairs and stop in the kitchen doorway. Elena leans against the granite island, holding my hand painted mug. Wearing an alarmingly short silk robe, she laughs at something Kael says. He sits at the breakfast bar, a plate of pancakes before him. He is smiling. The domesticity hits me like a physical blow. They look like the couple. I look like the intruder.
Two pink lines. I stare at the plastic stick in my trembling hands, blinking to make sure I am not hallucinating. They are still there. Two solid, undeniable pink lines. "I am pregnant," I whisper to the empty bathroom. A hand drifts down to rest over my stomach. For the first time in three year






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