She was ruined in a single night. Now she’s back—with a new name, a hidden past, and a score to settle. After a betrayal that destroyed her future and shattered her reputation, Astrid arrives at an elite warrior academy across the ocean—unrecognizable, untouchable. No one knows who she really is… not even the cold, unreadable combat instructor whose rejection once broke her. He calls her Mouse. Pushes her. Watches her. But his wolf knows. As sparks ignite beneath blood, secrets, and silver, enemies close in from every side. A jealous rival, a missing heir, and a dark conspiracy that’s been waiting to strike. She wanted revenge. She didn’t expect to fall for him again. And this time, loving him might cost her everything.
View MoreAshley
It’s my birthday today—the day every young wolf dreams about. The day I meet my wolf. Maybe even my mate. I rush through my morning routine and slip into the outfit I picked out last night during my bout of insomnia. When I turn on my phone, I’m not even surprised to see the flood of birthday messages. There are so many I wonder how I’ll reply to all of them—until I spot the one that makes me grin. It’s from Phil, my boyfriend of two years. The one I’m hoping turns out to be my mate. His message is long and sweet, the kind that makes my smile grow so wide I probably look like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. Phil’s such a sweetheart. I mean, not every she-wolf gets to call the future Alpha her boyfriend. And he’s perfect—caring, attentive… call me delulu, but I think I hit the jackpot. Thanks, babe. I love you too, I type back and hit send. Seconds later, I get his reply: Let’s hang out before your birthday ceremony. My place? I bite my lip, giddy, and barely hesitate before replying yes. Mom definitely wouldn’t be thrilled about this. She wants me to go over the last-minute dress fittings, the face prep steps, and whatever other over-the-top traditions she has in mind. This birthday is a big deal to her. I roll my eyes and sigh hard. Ever since I could say my name, she’s been enrolling me in one Luna training or another—etiquette, dance, combat, music. After Dad died, it only got worse. I’m lucky Phil is the future Alpha, otherwise she probably would’ve forbidden our relationship altogether. Hopefully, she’s too distracted to notice I’ve slipped out. I won’t be gone long. The staff is just starting to get busy, so it should be easy to sneak out—or so I think, until I try to tiptoe past the kitchen and hear Olga’s unmistakably loud voice stop me in my tracks. “And where is our birthday girl sneaking off to?” I’m too caught off guard to say anything smart, so I flash her my most charming grin—the one Phil can’t resist. Hopefully, it works on Olga too. “Good morning, Olga,” I finally say as she arches a brow. She shakes her head and mutters something under her breath while her hands move quickly, packing a basket full of breakfast that smells so good I’m tempted to steal a bite right there. “Off to see your boyfriend?” she asks, pinching her eyebrows together as she hands me the basket. “Take this with you.” I don't think Olga likes Phil very much. “Thank you, Olga! Can’t wait to eat this,” I squeal, giving her a kiss on the cheek before I wave goodbye. I arrive at Phil's house, greet the house staff, and head to Phil’s room. He’s too focused on his PS5, playing FIFA, to notice I’ve walked in. I decide to surprise him by sneaking up and covering his eyes when he spins around in his swivel chair. Instead, I land right in his lap. I forgot Alpha senses are no joke. “Not fair,” I giggle, still in his lap, and lightly punch his arm. But Phil ignores me and starts kissing my neck. My giggles melt into soft moans as heat spreads between my thighs. It doesn’t help that I’m wearing shorts. His hands snake up and in between my legs, giving them a firm squeeze. “Happy birthday, babe,” he murmurs against my ear, nipping at my earlobe. A violent shiver runs through me. Tired of the teasing, I crash my lips into his—fast and hungry. He matches my rhythm, one hand gripping the back of my head, the other wrapped around my waist, his rough fingers tracing slow circles on my skin. I arch my back and press in closer, desperate for more. “It sucks that we can’t do the real thing until we’re mates,” I whisper when we finally come up for air. His brown eyes darken. I know that look too well. I start to get up, but he pulls me back down. I can’t have sex with Phil—not because I don’t want to, but because it’s against pack law to sleep with anyone who isn’t your mate. I don’t know if he’s mine yet. But I’ve been praying to the Moon Goddess that he is. It’s all I want right now. “C’mon, babe. Even if we’re not mates, I’d still choose you. How many times do I have to say it? You’re mine,” he says. I glance up at him through my lashes, chewing on my bottom lip. I don’t doubt him—but I’ve always been the cautious one especially with my mom hammering on me being a future Luna. My best friend Zoe keeps telling me I need to stop being such a prude. And yeah, I’ve fantasized about it more times than I can count. I always imagined our first time would be as mates. But if I’m getting my wolf today, doesn’t that kind of make it official? We’re both virgins, and we’ve waited so long… “Okay,” I say with a soft smile even though I'm nervous as hell. “Your birthday gift to me.” ******** Violins swell as I slowly descend the grand staircase, my brown gown sweeping the steps. The hotel glitters with opulence—Mom’s version of “subtle,” even though it’s one of the most expensive venues in L.A. Eyes follow me, but not with admiration. My heart skips. Did something rip? Is my mascara smudged? I force a smile. Just breathe. Like we rehearsed. The music cuts off the second I reach the last step—and suddenly, everything fades. The violins, the stares, the background noise. It’s like the whole room is holding its breath. I don’t know why, but I feel it. A pull. Strong. Unfamiliar. But also intimate. Something stirs in me—wild, urgent, overwhelming. Mine, a voice whispers. Low, breathless, excited. Like she’s waited her whole life for this. It’s my wolf. And then I see him. He’s tall, with messy pepper-blond hair that somehow makes him look both dangerous and untouchable. His green eyes burn as they meet mine. His jaw clenches as he steps out from the crowd. His expression is unreadable. But it’s not shock. It’s not wonder. It’s something else. I take a shaky step forward, lips parting to speak—but he beats me to it. His voice slices through the silence. “I, Aiden Whitlock of Crimson Crescent Pack, reject Ashley Grant of Twilight Thorne Pack as my mate.” Wait, what? I blink. Once. Twice. I want to say something but I'm silenced by an instant sharp pain – like someone ripped a piece of my soul out. I gasp and clutch my side, my wolf howling inside me. I don’t even have time to process it before my mom grabs my arm and drags me outside, away from the gasping crowd. “Mom—?” Her hand cracks across my face so hard my ears ring. I stumble back, stunned. I rub the sore spot , blinking back tears as I stare at her wide eyed. “What—?” She shoves her phone in my face, eyes blazing with fury and her lips twitch. On the screen—it’s me and Phil. Naked. His face is blurred, but I recognize the room. It’s from earlier today. How the hell did this get out?AstridOne word: awkward.I don’t know what else to call it. Sitting beside Aiden feels like walking on a tightrope—only instead of a safety net, I’ve got a broken scent mask and thoughts that won’t stop yapping.My back’s ramrod straight, my face blank, but my brain? It’s a full-on whirlwind.Did I spray enough perfume?Can he catch my real scent regardless?What if he already has and is pretending? Would he hate me?Every inch of me is wound tight. I can feel the warmth radiating off him; it makes the air feel too thick to even inhale. His shoulder doesn’t touch mine, but it’s close enough that I can feel the tension. The space between us buzzes with alluring danger, like it’s alive.I sit nervously for about ten minutes before I blurt out, “I need to use the bathroom.”I don’t wait for a response or any form of acknowledgment as I get up and half-run toward the restroom. I only slow down when the glow of the bonfire fades behind me. Then I stop halfway and head to the cold, open q
AstridI drop to my knees, scrubbing my arms, legs—everything—against the damp spot before it dries up.I snatch a pair of leggings off the floor and scrub harder but it's useless.“Come on, come on,” I hiss.It feels like I’m caught in a spiral. One moment I’m celebrating a hard-won victory, and the next, I’m on all fours, scrubbing my rug like a freaking maid. Imagine hopping out of one problem just to land face-first in another—all in one day.Classic Astrid.I glance at the time. It’s 5:30 a.m.Just great.I can’t even take a shower. If I do ,whatever faint trace of false scent still clings to me will be gone, and I need it to hold out through the day. I mean, I have a freaking test to write. So yeah, I’ll just skip showering for one day. Just one sweaty, paranoia-filled, stress-soaked day.I grab my phone and dial my mom.One ring. Two rings. It goes straight to voicemail.Of course, she’s in a meeting. Or sleeping. Or just ignoring my call, which honestly, I wouldn’t blame her f
AstridThe arena is almost empty now, just the quiet buzz of distant conversations and the occasional echo of footsteps bouncing off the high walls. The tension of the fight has long since passed, but my pulse still thrums like I’m stuck in that moment, like my body hasn’t realized it’s over.I should feel proud. I won. I won. But instead, there’s a tight knot in my chest that just won’t go away.The sound of boots crunching toward me makes me turn.Coach.His lips are set in something between a half smile and a frown. He’s never liked me, not really. Always finding a reason to frown at my form, sigh at my hesitation, complain about my lack of instinct.I brace myself for whatever criticism he’s about to throw at me this time.“You did well today new girl,” he says.My brows shoot up and I sit up. The switch-up is just… wow.“Sorry, I didn’t quite hear you,” I say just for the fun of watching his lips twitch.“You heard me,” he mutters.I bite my lip, suppressing a smirk. “All credit
AstridMy eyes meet with Greystone's, and it's safe to say she's not backing down soon. Her brown eyes look almost fiery as she glares. Her jaw clenches. With a low grunt, she rises slowly from the ground, chest puffed while her nose flares.Her steps are wobbly, but then, it'll take more than a few punches for someone like her to back down from me.She circles me, her eyes sweeping over my frame like a hunter marking its prey. I mirror her movements, moving into a half-circle of my own."Do your thing, Kayleigh," I breathe out.It happens immediately. My mind fades into the background. I feel more like a passenger—my vision tunneling, focusing only on our target: Greystone.We lunge at each other simultaneously, fists bared, fingers clawed, teeth gritted.I feel everything—every single movement, every hit—but I'm not the one guiding the attacks. Everything moves in slow motion, and I can already tell what tactic she wants to use. It's like everyone has held their breath. It's even mo
AstridI should be stretching, practicing last-minute moves—I mean, anything but staring and nibbling on my fingers like it's supposed to change my fate.I'm alone in a locker room that smells like sweat and feels stuffy, my thoughts my only companion. From where I'm seated, the noise from the crowd is somewhat muffled, but it does nothing to ease my anxiety.My phone pings. It’s a message from Mom: “Good luck, Ashley. Make sure you win.” I read the message twice before tucking it into my locker.So much for rooting for me... not like I expected more."You're up, new girl," Coach's head pops beside my locker. He’s still refused to call me by my real name.I nod, wipe my sweaty palms on my leggings, and follow him.“This should be an interesting fight,” he chuckles. I don't miss the amusement in his words—or should I say, diss?Please be merciful, Moon Goddess. I've already accepted my failure, but that doesn't mean I don't dread the physical damage someone like Greystone leaves in her
AidenMy shoes click against the floor, cutting through the sterile silence as I move through the hallway. I’ve got better shit to do than sit in this hellhole.My supposed flu was just a ploy to sneak out without raising suspicion. The new lead was too good to ignore. The footage from the night of my mother’s death was wiped, but there’s a copy that still exists. A flash drive in my uncle’s possession.I spent almost three fucking days searching everywhere in his office—drawers, briefcases, even cloud backups—but all I found was irrelevant pack junk, business files. Nothing really useful.My last resort was to check his safes. Three of which I have no access to. Three—that I know of, at least. There might be more, judging by the level of secrecy.Lucas clocked on when I dropped the sick act. My bad for getting sloppy. He’s likely suspected I was up to no good—probably thought I was trying to skip school. Hovered like a hawk. Voice calm, questions casual and minimal. But I knew where
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