LOGINZAYNE:
The sweet, suffocating scent hits me like a freight train the second I cross the threshold. Cedarwood. Ozone. And beneath it all, the undeniable, intoxicating essence of soft skin, wild forest rain, and pure gold. Sara. My wolf roars so violently against my ribcage that my vision flashes blood-red. Three years of tracking cold leads, three years of suffocating anger, all crashing down into a single point in space. She’s standing behind the counter, looking smaller than I remember in an oversized green hoodie, her big brown eyes wide with absolute terror. I step forward, my heavy boots crushing the fallen paper cups, intent on claiming what’s ours. Beside me, Kyle moves in total sync, his usual arrogant smirk completely wiped from his face. We vault the granite counter at the exact same second. My palm slams around her waist, pulling her flush against my chest, while Kyle’s fingers lock around her delicate wrist. The moment our skin touches hers, the air in the room combusts. A golden, blinding shockwave snaps through my chest. It isn't just a connection, it’s a violent, ancient lightning strike that fuses my soul directly to hers. But as I lean into the soft curve of her neck to inhale her scent, I feel the exact same surge of Alpha energy vibrating through Kyle right beside me. Our eyes clash over Sara’s head. Kyle’s golden eyes are blown wide, glowing with an intense, luminous amber. His breath hitches in his throat. For the first time in twenty-four years, my twin brother looks entirely, utterly paralyzed. The bond didn't pick. It anchored to both of us. "MINE," we growl in absolute, synchronized unison the sound tearing from our chests so loudly that the glass display cases rattle. Sara gasps, her body going rigid between us as horror pales her face. "N-no..." she chokes out, her pulse hammering against my palm like a trapped bird. "Zayne..." Kyle rasps, his voice trembling with a rare, raw disbelief as his grip on her wrist tightens possessively. "Do you feel that? Tell me you fucking feel that." "I feel it," I growl, my jaw aching from the strain of keeping my wolf from completely taking over. The split mate bond. A myth passed down through Alpha bloodlines, a freak anomaly meant to prevent twin heirs from destroying each other. She belongs to me. And she belongs to him. Around us, the cafe erupts into chaos. A human customer drops his mug, the ceramic shattering on the tile. "Hey! What the hell are you doing to her?! I'm calling the police!" The word police acts like a bucket of ice water over my raging blood. The human task force. If officers show up here now, they’ll smell the sudden spike of Alpha pheromones saturating the air. "Kyle," I command, my Alpha tone slicing through the haze. "Vehicle. Now." "Touch her again and I'll break your arm, man," the human customer yells, stepping forward bravely. Kyle doesn't even look at him. With a flick of his wrist, he shoves the man back into a row of chairs with superhuman force, sending him crashing to the floor. "Back off, sheep," Kyle sneers, though his gaze snaps right back to Sara, dark and ravenous. "We're taking what's ours." "Please, Zayne, no!" Sara cries out, thrashing frantically against my grip, her knuckles white as she tries to pry my hand off her waist. "You can't do this! Let me go!" "You ran once, Sara," I whisper harshly into her ear, my lips brushing the sensitive skin below her jaw, making her shiver violently as the mate bond sparks between us. "You don't get to run twice." I scoop her up into my arms, hauling her against my chest. She fights like a wild animal, hitting my shoulders, but her hybrid strength is nothing against two fully matured Alphas locked in the grip of a mate bond. Kyle covers our rear, his body vibrating with lethal energy as he glares down the cowering humans in the shop. We burst through the back door into the crisp, rain-slicked alleyway. Our blacked-out SUV is idling in the shadows, the exhaust curling into the damp morning air. Kyle yanks the rear door open, and I slide inside, pulling Sara directly onto my lap to pin her arms. Kyle climbs in right behind us, slamming the door shut and locking the heavy reinforced doors. The engine roars to life, tires screeching as the driver hits the gas, plunging us into the city traffic. Sara lies breathless against my chest, her chest heaving, her eyes darting between me and Kyle in total panic. "You don't understand," she pleads, her voice breaking. "The police... they're hunting wolves in the city! If you take me… " "The police are the least of your concerns, little wolf," Kyle murmurs, leaning in close until his lips almost touch hers, his eyes burning with a dangerous, possessive fire. He reaches out, tracing a warm finger down her trembling cheek. "You just bound yourself to two Alpha Kings. And our father is dying." Before Sara can scream, the SUV takes a sharp turn, heading straight toward the mountain borders, and the dark, violent pack war waiting for us at home.SARA'S POV: : The grand banquet hall of the Bloodmoon Keep is an overwhelming labyrinth of roaring fires, crimson silk banners, and the deafening clinking of heavy golden chalices. The smell of roasted game, mulled wine, and sweet winter spices fills the cavernous room, but beneath the celebratory scents, the atmosphere is suffocatingly thick.I sit on the high carved stone throne at the center of the raised head table. The heavy silver crown of the Luna Queen rests on my dark hair, its cool metal pressing against my brow like a constant reminder of my new reality.Beside me, Zayne sits as the newly crowned Alpha King. His posture is rigid, his broad shoulders squared beneath his dark leather and silver-plated armor. One of his large, warm hands stays laced tightly around mine atop the dark mahogany table, his thumb tracing soothing circles over my palm, right over the newly stitched cut where our blood fused just hours ago. His silver aura wraps around my body like a protective barr
Sara’s POV:The heavy oak doors of my bedchamber shut against the quiet corridor, sealing out the hollow echoes of the fortress. The air inside smells of crushed rain-lilies, burning sage, and sweet rosewater, but none of it masks the metallic tang of fear that clings to my skin.My mother, Elena, smoothed the silk layer of the bridal chemise over my shoulders. Her hands are warm, but they tremble slightly against my neck as she fastens the small bone buttons along my spine. Beside her, Mina, a young pack maid with wide, anxious eyes, untangles the delicate silver chains designed to drape across my back."Stand still, my sweet girl," my mother whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears as she hooks the heavy velvet bodice around my ribs. "You are so pale. Mara said you shouldn't be standing for long.""I am fine, Mama," I say, though my voice sounds faint even to my own ears.In the tall polished bronze mirror before me, a stranger stares back. My skin is washed out, the dark purple
Sara’s POV:The smell of dried lavender and bitter mountain herbs is the first thing that hits me when I open my eyes.I am lying on a low cot in the corner of the medical clinic, the white linen sheets pulled tight around my shoulders. Dawn light filters weakly through the high stained-glass windows, casting cold violet shadows across the stone floor. My body feels entirely weightless, hollow, fragile, like a glass figurine that would shatter under the lightest touch.Slowly, tenderly, I move my right hand down beneath the heavy blankets, resting my trembling palm against my lower belly.A tiny, faint pulse flutters beneath my skin. It is weak, so fragile it barely registers, but it is there. My baby is still alive.Tears instantly gather at the corners of my eyes, hot and silent, trailing down into my hair. But the relief doesn't erase the burning ghost of last night's nightmare. The phantom sensation of hot iron branding my chest, the agonizing tearing in my soul, the coppery taste
ZAYNE; The dawn breaking over the iron gates of the Bloodmoon territory is not bathed in silver light, but in a cold, suffocating gray.I stand in the shadowed archway of the main courtyard, the freezing rain drenching my hair and heavy tunic, washing away the dried crimson blood that still stains my sleeves. My hands are clenched so tight into fists that my short nails dig into my palms, but I feel no physical pain. The only thing vibrating through my marrow is a dark, suffocating fury that has consumed my silver wolf entirely.Down the winding mountain path, a solitary figure emerges from the lingering fog.Kyle walks with his head down, his dark coat damp, his boots dragging through the slush. He reeks, even from fifty paces away, of cheap human whiskey, stale tobacco, and the sickeningly sweet scent of a woman who isn't our mate. He looks exhausted, hollow, and utterly consumed by his own self-pity.He has no idea.As he steps past the iron threshold, his eyes lift and catch mine
ZAYNE: The scratch of my quill against heavy parchment is the only sound breaking the silence of my study. Stacks of treaties, supply logs, and legal decrees line my oak desk. Tomorrow, I place the royal crown permanently upon my brow and take Sara as my Queen before the elders. I am fighting to build a wall of iron around her and our unborn child, securing every loophole in pack law so no council member can ever touch them.Suddenly, a sound rips through the quiet night.It isn't a soft cry or a muffled gasp. It is a heart-piercing, agonized scream that shatters the stone walls of the fortress.Sara.My quill snaps in my grip. I vault over the desk before the ink even hits the floor, my chair crashing backward. I rip the heavy oak door open and sprint down the torchlit corridor, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped beast.I slam through the double doors of her bedchamber, my eyes wildly searching the dark room."Sara!"She is on the floor, curled into a tight, trembling
SARA: I rest on the soft velvet chaise in my bedchamber, staring out at the dark pine forest as the snow falls in thick, silent sheets. The room is warm, heated by the roaring hearth, but a persistent chill lingers deep within my bones.Tomorrow is the wedding.Tomorrow, I will put on a lace dress, walk down the aisle of the grand chapel, and place my hand in Zayne’s before the full council. In another room just down the hall, Zayne is up late, his brow furrowed as he signs stacks of royal decrees, treaties, and pack logs to secure our future. He is working tirelessly to build a fortress of legal protection around me and our unborn pup.And Kyle... God only knows where Kyle is.He has been a phantom all week, slipping away every time I try to find a moment alone with him. I know he is hurting. I know watching the pack prepare for this wedding feels like a slow execution to his soul. I need to see him tonight. I need to wrap my arms around his neck, look into his eyes, and remind him







