Mag-log in"Do you want me to touch you?" And that was how the walls I had created in my heart started to crumble, one by one. "Please touch me!" Did she even know what she was saying! "You are playing with fire little miss." "Then let it burn me!" ******* Betrayed on her anniversary, former Luna Soraya walks in on her husband and best friend in her own bed. Shattered and thrown aside, she falls into the arms of a powerful stranger, only to wake up bound to him by a marriage contract she drunkenly signed. When that stranger reveals himself as Alpha-King Damon Sterling, her ex-husband’s stepfather, the real war begins. Their alliance starts with raw passion, a dangerous fire meant only for revenge… but it quickly unravels secrets neither of them saw coming. A buried truth from the past rises, forcing them to face the reality that they were never just each other’s bed-bullyings, they were fate colliding. Together, they plot a ruthless revenge that will tear apart lies, topple power, and expose the darkest secret of all: Elara’s child isn’t Dorian’s. And Soraya?
view moreSORAYA’S POVI still couldn’t believe he had actually agreed.Damon had driven me himself to the largest college in the city, and now here I stood, completely mesmerised by the towering glass buildings and the swarm of students laughing, rushing, living like this was the most normal thing in the world. My bag strap dug into my shoulder as I stared. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too real.After everything that had happened since Damon claimed me and forced me to sign that marriage contract — after Dorian and Elara’s betrayal — I had seen a lot. Yet this still felt like a dream I was scared to wake up from. Like any second the illusion would shatter and I’d be back in that cold, empty life where I was nothing.All my life as Alpha Dorian’s wife, I had dreamed of this. I had begged to study like the other she-wolves, hoping — just maybe — he would finally see me as his Luna instead of something to hide. I was tired of being kept in the shadows, treated like I knew nothing about t
NICHOLUS’ POVThe garage smelled of oil, rubber, and old blood. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead like dying insects. I knelt beside the stripped-down bike, fingers black with grease, threading the final bead lock into the tire with slow, precise twists. Metal groaned under my grip. I didn’t look up when boots scraped the concrete behind me.“VP?”“Speak.”My voice came out flat. Ice. I kept working.“The message has been sent successfully, VP.”I stopped. Set the wrench down. The clink echoed. Only then did I rise, turning to face Sarge. He stood rigid, six-three of solid muscle and scars, but his shoulders twitched once when my eyes locked on his. He forced them still. Good. I allowed no weakness in my circle. Fear sharpened a man. Cowardice buried him.Sarge held my stare exactly as trained.I wiped my hands on the rag hanging from my belt. “Details.”“Clean. No witnesses. Target received it at 0300. Our man confirmed from the ridge.”I nodded once. “No feed.”He opened his mouth
DAMON’S POVI wasn’t blind. I could smell trouble simmering long before it boiled over. And I definitely wasn’t stupid enough to miss the storm brewing around Dorian Redclad. Someone had sunk their claws into his pack, and the blood was fresh.I should have hated it. Should have felt robbed. Destroying Dorian was supposed to be my kill—mine alone. Yet a dark part of me savored every headline, every scream echoing from their territory. The bastard deserved worse. Still, the satisfaction tasted bitter. Because it wasn’t my hand that delivered the blow.“Penny for your thoughts, Dam.”I didn’t turn. I knew that voice—light, teasing, edged with steel.Ariela stepped into the room behind me, heels clicking softly on marble. I waited until she was close enough for her perfume—jasmine and something sharper—to curl around me before I faced her.She wore a simple green sundress today, short sleeves, soft fabric skimming her frame. Elegant. Innocent. The perfect picture of a princess. Anyone el
SORAYA’S POV“How could you?!”That was the first thing he said when he yanked open the car door and stepped out, dragging me with him.This was already better than being trapped inside the car.The entire ride he had kept me on his lap—right there in the passenger seat like I belonged to him—while the open town buzzed around us. People stared. Whispers spread. My face burned hotter than the Nairobi sun. But Damon never cared who watched. He lived like the rest of the world didn’t exist.He had leaned in close before we even left Geraldina’s shop, voice rumbling low against my ear. “If you don’t get in willingly, I’ll bend you over the hood and fuck you right here where everyone can see.”I got in.Now we stood in the courtyard of the mansion. He gripped my wrist so tight pain shot up my arm. I yanked back. His fingers only tightened more.“And you made me look like a fool in front of my sister,” he growled.My fists clenched until my knuckles turned white. Fuck him for making me look












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