LOGINLydia Redfield never imagined that returning home would come with such a heavy price. A lifetime spent chasing freedom in Paris evaporates the moment her parents pull her back to the Silverwood packhouse, where duty and tradition outweigh any hopes of happiness. As the daughter of the Alpha, Lydia has one role: marry well and strengthen the pack’s power. But the man they’ve chosen isn’t just any Alpha—he’s Zane, a brooding, cold leader with a reputation for rejecting women and avoiding love. "I’m not a pawn to be moved around," Zane’s voice cuts through the tension, his gaze as sharp as his words. “I decide who is worthy to stand by my side.” Lydia thought the biggest challenge would be fitting into a life she never wanted. But when she meets Zane—tall, untouchable, and far too captivating—everything she thought she knew about loyalty, love, and sacrifice is put to the test. Her wolf stirs with an undeniable pull, one that terrifies her more than she’s willing to admit. The pack wants an heir. Her father demands she comply. But Lydia's heart is torn—because this is no arranged marriage. It’s a battle for control, where every step she takes could shatter her future, and every moment with Zane feels like surrendering her soul. In a world where power rules, can she escape the chains of duty—or will Zane’s love become the cage that binds her forever? Will she choose the freedom she’s always craved, or the power that could ruin her?
View MoreZane’s POV
“If one more Elder emails me a bride, I am blocking the whole Council.”
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. No one hears me. Good. The study is quiet, but it feels like it is breathing down my neck. Wood walls. Old leather. Stacks of files that smell like ink and duty. I drop into the chair and stare at the top folder until the lines blur. Paper should not scare an Alpha, but it steals time I could spend training, scouting, or doing anything that feels like air.
I tap the keyboard and open my inbox. Elder Parker sits at the top like a tick. Subject line says I should consider Lydia Redfield as my Luna. I do not open it. I delete it. I already deleted the last twenty. Lydia. Another pretty name wrapped in politics. Another chain with perfume on it.
My jaw tightens. The office hums. I rub the spot between my eyes and try to breathe past the heat in my chest. I am Alpha of the Stonebrook. I am not a puppet on a Council string. They keep forgetting that I am the one who decides if and when I take a mate. The pack is strong. We are profitable. We do not need a Luna to breathe.
The stack of files leans toward me. I shove it aside and pull one open anyway. Numbers. Patrol rosters. Trade contracts. I was supposed to finish this last night. I did not. After Parker’s call I drove out of the territory and found noise and dim lights and bodies that did not ask anything of me. Two she wolves. No names. No promises. It took the edge off. It did not fix the inbox.
I sign three forms. My pen scratches and stalls. The mind link in the back of my head buzzes, then thins. I cut it to a low hum. I want an hour with no voices. Just me and the ink. The moment I settle, footsteps come down the hall. Beta steps. Confident. A little fast. My door clicks twice.
“Enter.”
Tyler slips in with that half grin that asks for trouble. He looks clean but not rested. His shirt is on straight, yet I still catch the soft trace of Vivian’s scent. Warm sugar. He tries to hide it behind a cool face. It does not work.
“You shut me out,” he says, closing the door with his boot. “Again.”
“I did not shut the pack out. I shut you out,” I say, and flip a page. “There is a difference.”
He comes to the desk and plants his hands on the wood. “You do that when you want to ignore a problem. So here I am. In person. Harder to mute.”
“I mute you because you talk too much in the morning.”
“You would talk too much too if you had a mate like mine.” He tries to stay serious. The corner of his mouth gives up first.
“You reek of happiness,” I say. “Go shower in cold water before the warriors start smiling back.”
“They already do. It keeps morale up.” He leans closer. “Elder Parker has been calling me. He thinks you lost your phone. Or your manners.”
“Neither.” I sign another form. “I lost my patience.”
“He wants you to meet Lydia Redfield.”
“I read the subject line. Then I buried it.” I set the pen down and look at him. “You came all the way from your bed to tell me the same thing the delete button told me.”
“I came because ignoring Elders does not make them go away. It makes them gather. Parker is not the only one pushing this. They are using the same song. A Luna strengthens an Alpha. A Luna calms a pack. A Luna opens doors.”
“Our doors are already open. Our borders are calm. Our numbers are up. Try a new song.”
Tyler takes the chair without asking. That is how you know he grew up with me. He sits, but he does not relax. “We both know this is not about doors. It is about influence. If they push in a line, even you will feel it.”
“Let them push. I know how to push back.”
“Do you remember being seventeen,” he says, “standing in this same room while Elders circled like crows. Your parents had been gone eight hours. They wanted you to hand the pack to a safe pair of hands. That is their phrase. Safe pair of hands.”
I remember. I remember the smell of blood and rain. I remember the weight of eyes. I remember telling them no. I remember Tyler at my back, fresh and fierce, daring them to try me. They did. They still do. I learned to outthink men who wanted to own me. I learned to outfight men who wanted to bury me. I did not keep our ground by taking a wife for politics.
“My hands were safe enough,” I say.
“Because you had a plan. You still do. I am asking you to treat this like a new fight. They packaged it as marriage, but it is pressure. That makes it pack business.”
He is not wrong. He is also not right enough to move me. “You came here to sell me a date.”
“I came here to keep you ahead of the storm.”
I lean back. Tyler watches me the way he used to watch a target on the training field. Calm. Ready. Loyal enough to argue. He knows me. He also knows the part I do not say out loud. There is a reason I never take a woman for more than a night. There is a reason I never claim. Wolves think I am cold. It is not cold. It is control. I have seen what happens when people love my name more than they love me. I do not let that near my pack.
“You think Lydia loves your name,” Tyler says, as if he snatched the thought from my head.
“They all love the title. Luna. It shines. It sticks. It makes men kneel. It is not for sale.” I pick up the pen and set it down again. “Tell Parker the same thing.”
Tyler studies me. He knows pushing me now will fail. He takes a different road. “Switch tracks. Patrols report rogue movement near the northern ridge. Two sightings in the last three nights. Probably scouts. No scent markers. They are skilled or new.”
“That is not new,” I say. “But the timing is interesting.”
“Right when the Council is loud,” he says. “I do not like it.”
“Double the night teams. Pull Evan from logistics and put him on the ridge. He reads ground better than most.”
“Done.” He waits. “What about Parker.”
“Delete him.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
Tyler laces his fingers and rests them on his stomach. “You know I am meant to keep bridges from burning.”
“I am not lighting anything on fire. I am refusing a leash.”
He drops the subject for a breath and looks over the desk. “You hate this room.”
“I hate sitting while the world moves.”
He laughs once. “Then come spar before noon. Knock the edge off.”
“I will if I survive these forms.” I flip to a patrol map and mark a shift with my pen. “How is Vivian.”
His eyes soften. It is small, but I catch it. “Perfect. She tried to keep me in bed.”
“Tell her to stop delaying my Beta.”
“You delay yourself fine.”
“You were always a mouth,” I say, but there is no heat in it. The room loosens a little. He lets me work in silence for a minute and then he clears his throat.
“There is one more thing,” he says. “Parker wants to send a formal envoy. He will dress it up as a courtesy visit. You know what it is.”
“A stage.”
“A stage with witnesses.”
“They want to force me into a polite corner.” I cap the pen. “Fine. If he sends them, I will receive them. Here. My time. My rules.”
Tyler blinks. “You will meet them.”
“I will meet them to set terms. Not to be sold. If they step over the line, they leave.”
“Understood.”
“And I will not sit with Lydia alone.”
“Of course.”
“If she comes at all.”
“If she comes at all,” he echoes, then leans forward. “Zane, you can say no and still make it a win. A public no, done right, reminds them who leads this pack.”
“I do not need a reminder. They do.”
He nods. “Then we will give them one.”
We go over the envoy plan in quick strokes. Security. Entry points. Where the warriors will stand. Where the Elders will sit if they sit at all. Tyler sketches the route in his head and I match it with patrol notes. It is clean. It is tight. It is ours.
When we are done, he lets his shoulders drop. “There. You handled the politics without punching a wall.”
“I save walls for real enemies.”
He grins and rises. “You sure you do not want to try a real solution. Like a mate. The Moon Goddess knows what she is doing.”
“The Moon Goddess has a sense of humor. She has had nine years to send me someone. I am still waiting. I am not holding my breath.”
“You do not get to pick. That is the point.”
“I picked patience,” I say. “It works.”
He shakes his head. “One day you will hear her voice and the ground will tilt and all this control will feel like paper. You will see.”
“I prefer steel to paper.” I flick my eyes to the door. “Go. You have work.”
“I will double the ridge teams and prep for Parker’s envoy.” He reaches for the handle, then stops. “Do you want me to warn Vivian about a possible event at the house. She can help with staff.”
“She will hear it from you the moment you think it. Save your breath for patrol orders.”
He opens the door. The hall air moves across the desk and tastes like pine. He looks back at me. “There is a world where Lydia is just a name and not a test. If that world shows up in my inbox, I will forward it.”
“If it shows up, I will still delete it.”
He laughs and steps out. The room settles again. The files stare. I make them bleed ink. Five more forms. Six. A map update. A trade note to sign. When the pen slows, I look out the window at the training grounds. Warriors move in pairs. Sun on shoulders. Dust in the air. That is the work that made us the largest pack in North America. Not letters. Not rings.
People think I am cold because I do not claim. That is wrong. I am loyal to this land and the wolves who bleed for it. I will not hand them a Luna who wants a crown more than a home. I will not teach young warriors that power can be married for. I will not build a family on a bargain. If I take a mate, it will be on my terms and for the right reason. Not because a subject line tells me to.
The inbox blinks again. Parker. New subject line. Courtesy visit request. I read it this time. Tyler was right. It is a stage. It is also a chance to make my answer clear without turning it into a war. I draft a reply that sets date, time, and ground rules so simple a pup could follow them. No private audience. No terms in whispers. Witnesses on both sides. I hit send and lean back.
The mind link hums sharper. I open it fully. The pack voice rolls through me like river water. Calm. Present. Mine. Tyler’s signal rises above the rest.
Envoy prep started. Ridge teams doubled. Evan reassigned.
Good. I send back a single word.
Proceed.
He answers with a laugh only I can hear. Copy that, Alpha. Try not to delete Parker in front of his envoy.
“Tell him to stop acting like spam,” I say into the empty room, and the window throws my voice back at me. I pick up the next file and sign where the line tells me to sign. Control is not the enemy. It is the reason my people sleep.
The door opens a crack. Tyler’s head appears again. “One last thing. If the envoy includes Lydia, do you want her shown through the east hall or the front steps.”
“Front steps,” I say without looking up. “And Tyler.”
He waits.
“Make sure she understands this is my house.”
“Clear as daylight,” he says.
“Good. Now go do your job so I can finish mine.”
Wendy’s POV“Commander Victor, can you come to our room for a moment?”I put the empty food containers into the hall trash and slipped back inside. Lydia’s breathing was slow and deep. I clapped my hands softly, right above her head, just to be sure. Nothing. The crushed pills were working perfectly. She wouldn’t stir for hours.My eyes went right to the suitcase tucked under her bed. Lydia had been guarding that thing like it held gold, so how could I not look?I pulled it out and flipped the latches open. Designer clothing, high-end European toiletries. Everything smelled expensive. I mentally noted all the brands. But it was the jewelry that made my stomach clench. Several small, plain boxes were stuffed between sweaters. Inside were necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. I was sure I could take three or four pieces, and Lydia wouldn’t even notice they were gone.Not yet. I forced myself
Lydia’s POV“Are you sleeping?”Wendy’s voice was quiet, drifting into the stale motel air. I lay still on the bed, my eyes squeezed shut. I was great at pretending to be asleep.“I brought you food.”That second part worked like a key in a lock. My eyes snapped open. I was starving.“What did you bring?” I asked. I had stormed out of the diner earlier. It was a good dramatic move, but it left my stomach empty. The cheap motel didn’t have room service. I had been planning to drink a gallon of water until morning. I hadn’t wanted to speak to Wendy, but if she had food, I would take it.“I packed your burger and fries,” Wendy said. She stepped fully into my view. “I got extra ketchup packets, and I added a chocolate milkshake. Tristan and Victor and I all had one. It was the best part of dinner.”I watched her set down the styrofoam clam
Lydia’s POV“How about you tell us what is available?” Wendy’s voice snapped.The middle-aged woman just refilled Victor’s coffee. She didn’t even flinch. “Sweetie, I recommend the house special. Burger and fries.”Before that, we tried to order everything. Steak, pot roast, chicken skillet. I even watched Tristan risk a question. “What about the fish platter?”The woman had grimaced then. “Fish isn’t fresh. I wouldn’t recommend it.”Victor, Wendy, and I had already taken our coffees. Tristan ordered a soda instead. The woman leaned a hip against the table. “We send all the lunch stuff to the town kitchen at five sharp. Chicken wings, soup, salad. All gone now. You want omelets, come back early morning.”Lydia sighed and put the menu down. It was thick, b
Lydia’s POV“Is it time for dinner?”The word tasted dry on my tongue. I rubbed my eyes hard, the neon 'Motel' sign outside burning a red imprint onto my vision. It took a long, slow moment for the world to settle. We were not at the Stonebrook Pack yet. We had stopped moving somewhere dark in Oregon, and the air was thick with the scent of old gas and pine.I was cramped in the back seat. My brother, Tristan, was slumped beside me, his headphones a wall between us and the world. Up front, the sweet, heavy scent of Victor—my rejected mate—was a constant, maddening presence. And the worst part: Wendy was in the passenger seat. My ex-best friend, who was now my father’s mistress and the woman who slept with the man I should have married. A perfect road trip from hell.We had left the Silverwood Pack after lunch, much late
Mabel’s POV“What are we going to do for dinner?” I asked.The sky outside our window was painted in deep orange and fading pink, catching the last of the sunset. I should be downstairs. Hosts did not lounge in bed when the packhouse was full of guests. I heard the low murmur of voices from the garden.We planned on a bonfire and barbeque down on the beach. I nudged Zane’s arm.“Everyone is here in the house,” I told him.He pulled me closer, resting his chin on my head. “They changed the plan. With you, me, Colton, Jamal, Max, and Tanya all tied up, Vivian figured the beach was a bust. Everyone decided on dinner here instead.”I nodded. That made sense.“When is Lydia coming?” The question slipped out, and I felt my stomach tighten before I could stop it.Zane knew I did not want her here. He felt the same way, I knew, but her visit w
Mabel's POV“Are you saying I influenced her?” I asked. I still felt shaky from being in the lake, but Zane's questions made me forget the chill.Zane nodded once, his eyes dark with serious thought. "That's exactly what I'm saying, kitten. And the fantastic part is that you don't even know it's happening. You’re natural."I leaned back against his arm, the soft duvet under my head. My brain felt like a knot. I'd just finished telling him everything I could remember about what happened with Max and Seraphina in the water, but it felt like nothing."There's not much to go on," I admitted. "I wish I had an on-off switch or a replay button. When I talk about it, everything sounds like a bad dream."He shook his head, looking down at me. "I saw your eyes, Mabel. They were glowing with a silver light. And it's not the first time people have bowed to you." He paused, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Do you remember telling Seraphina to c
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