LOGINSORAYA’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
SORAYA’S POV“Oh, Mr. Nicholus, welcome to my humble little empire!” Geraldina sprang upright like someone had hit her with a cattle prod, her earlier teasing forgotten the second that velvet-gravel voice cut through the chatter.The shop wasn’t exactly private anyway, half the customers could probably recite our entire conversation but right now every eye in the place was pretending not to stare at the man who had just stepped inside. But I could see their judgement in how their eyes were dancing around him, from head to toe.Black leather jacket, worn soft at the elbows and shoulders, stretched tight across a chest that looked carved from granite. Faded black jeans hugged long legs, heavy motorcycle boots scuffed from real miles, not fashion. Silver rings glinted on nearly every finger, skulls, serpents, a wicked-looking crescent blade. A thin silver chain disappeared beneath the open collar of his black Henley, hinting at more ink hidden underneath. Tattoos crawled up the side of
SORAYA’S POV“A disastrous moment for the Redclad Pack after a sudden and violent assault claimed the lives of ten pack members and left five critically wounded, including the pack's Beta, who is currently receiving emergency treatment....”I nearly choked on the water. It burned down my throat as my gaze jerked to the massive television bolted high on the wall of Geraldina’s ice-cream shop."You like the show?"Goddess, I had forgotten she was even there."What the hell is going on?" I slammed the glass onto the table; water splashed across the polished wood. My eyes stayed glued to the screen as I rounded on her. She had just waved off her last customer and now leaned on the counter, smirking at me like she had won the lottery."They’re finally getting what they deserve for every single thing they did to you." Geraldina scooped another generous spoonful of mint chocolate chip and popped it into her mouth, eyes glittering with malicious glee.I had dragged myself here this morning to







