When Dr. Elara Voss signs a blood pact with the reclusive Wolf King to save her brother from Lycanthropy, she expects a clinical transaction—not the scorching bond that sears her veins under the full moon. The terms are simple: one year of her life to bear his hybrid heir, in exchange for the serum that will cure her brother. But the Wolf King’s golden gaze holds shadows older than the forest, and his touch awakens a primal hunger she never knew existed. With each lunar cycle, Elara’s body betrays her. Her senses sharpen to inhuman levels, her skin hums at his proximity, and her dreams spiral into vivid, forbidden fantasies. Yet the closer she gets to the King, the clearer it becomes that their pact is no ordinary contract. It’s a trap—one that binds her soul to his, and forces her to confront the truth: the serum she needs might not exist. As the pack’s ancient enemies close in, Elara must navigate a world of shifting loyalties, where every ally hides a fanged secret and the line between predator and prey blurs. When the King’s true motives emerge—along with a curse that could destroy them both—Elara must decide: is she a prisoner of her own desperation… or the key to breaking a thousand-year-old chain of bloodshed?
View MoreThe first light of dawn seeped over Blackpine Ridge, painting the snow-crusted ground in streaks of pink and gold.Elara lay curled against him, her head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. The mating heat still hummed in her veins, a low, warm pulse, but it was overshadowed by something softer—tenderness, a word she’d never thought to associate with a Lycan alpha.His fingers traced the mark on her wrist, now a perfect circle of silver and onyx, and she shivered. “Does it hurt?” he said, his voice rough with sleep.“Only when I think too hard about what it means.” She tilted her head, watching the way his silver streak caught the light. “About the other Voss women. Why didn’t you tell me?”He went still. “I thought… if you knew, you’d run. And I couldn’t lose you. Not when I finally found you.”Elara propped herself up on one elbow, her hand brushing the scar on his cheek. “I’m not them. I don’t break. Not anymore.”His golden eyes softened, and he pulled he
The full moon hung like a blade over Blackpine Ridge.Elara’s skin felt too tight, every nerve singing as the silver light soaked into her.The mating heat rolled off her in waves, thick and sweet, mixing with the coppery scent of blood from the great hall. Beside her, he stood half-shifted—wolf ears tufted with black fur, claws glinting, his golden eyes blazing with a hunger that matched hers.“Ready?” he said, his voice rough with the edge of transformation.Elara gripped the dagger Eleanor’s journal had described—forged from moonstone, etched with Voss runes—and nodded. The mark on her wrist glowed so bright it cast shadows, and she could hear the heartbeat of the forest: Kael’s army gathering at the ridge, their thoughts a cacophony of bloodlust and ambition.Sixty-seven wolves. All half-crazed from wolfsbane laced in their water. Kael’s at the front, wearing my grandfather’s pelt like a trophy.The bond had become a river, flooding her with his thoughts, his fears, his hunger.“S
The mark didn’t just burn—it sang.Elara woke gasping, her sheets soaked through. The air in her quarters felt thick, cloying, as if saturated with something sweet and musky—his scent, amplified a hundredfold. Her skin prickled, every nerve ending firing at once, and when she touched her wrist, the silver wolf’s head glowed so bright it cast shadows on the stone walls.Two days until the full moon. Two days until the mating heat.She stumbled to the basin, splashing cold water on her face. The reflection staring back was a stranger—cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, a wildness in her eyes she didn’t recognize. The bond had sharpened her jawline, tightened her muscles; even her hair, once a dull brown, now gleamed with red undertones, like embers.I’m becoming something else. Something not quite human.A knock sounded, and her pulse spiked.“Elara?” His voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down her spine. “You okay?”She grabbed a robe, tying it tight. “Fine. Just… warm.”The door opene
The mark burned like a second heartbeat.Elara stared at her reflection in the den’s stone basin, watching the silver wolf’s head on her wrist pulse in time with the rising moon. Three days since Kael’s exile, and the air had grown thick with tension—whispers in the corridors, wolves avoiding her gaze, Lira’s constant, wary glances.They’re waiting, the mark seemed to hum. Waiting to see if you break… or bend.A shadow fell across the basin. She turned, finding him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His shoulder had healed, but the scar from the wolfsbane dagger lingered, a pale pink line against his dark skin.“Training starts today,” he said, his golden eyes scanning her face. “Ready to stop being a doctor… and start being a Lycan’s mate?”Elara’s jaw tightened. “I’m not a Lycan. And I’m not your ‘mate.’ I’m a woman with a deadline.”He pushed off the doorframe, his boots silent on the stone floor. “Semantics. By the time the mating heat hits, your body won’t care what you
The sun dipped below the treeline, painting the den’s stone walls in hues of amber and violet. Elara stood outside his quarters, her fist hovering over the wooden door. The serum vial burned a hole in her pocket—a temporary truce, she reminded herself. Nothing more.She knocked once, twice, and the door swung open before she could raise her hand a third time.He leaned against the frame, shirtless, his torso a canvas of scars—claw marks, bullet wounds, a brand that curved around his ribs like a snake. The moonlight through the window caught the silver streak in his hair, and for a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe.“Took you long enough,” he said, stepping aside. “I was starting to think you’d chickened out.”Elara brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his chest. Heat erupted where they touched, and the mark pulsed in rhythm with her racing heart. “I don’t chicken out. I plan.”“Plan what?” He closed the door, and suddenly the room felt too small, too charged with unspoken tension
The first ray of sunlight sliced through the trees, landing directly on Elara’s face. She jolted awake, her body stiff from sleeping on the forest floor. For a heartbeat, she forgot where she was—until the scent of cedarwood and something wild hit her, and memory crashed back.The clearing. The moon. Him.She sat up, wrapping her coat tighter around her. The grass around her was flattened, and there was a faint indentation in the soil where he’d knelt beside her. But he was gone, leaving only the faint, lingering warmth of his skin against hers.The mark on her wrist pulsed, a lazy thrum this time, not the searing pain of the night before. She touched it, and a vision flashed—him, standing at the edge of the woods, watching her sleep, his golden eyes softening for a split second before he turned and vanished.Elara’s jaw tightened. Don’t mistake kindness for weakness. She’d let the bond cloud her judgment, let the moon and the mark and the raw, aching need override her logic. But morn
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