LOGINHis hand wrapped around my throat in claim, as he pinned me against the cold stone wall. “You’re mine,” he growled, his breath hot against my lips. “Every breath and every heartbeat you take. Mine.” But his nephew’s voice echoed in my mind: “You deserve better than a man who treats you like furniture.” I never wanted this bond. Alpha Zane forced me into a contract marriage—bear him an heir, then disappear. He made it clear I’m nothing more than a child-bearing vessel. A servant elevated to Luna only because the Moon Goddess cursed us both. But his nephew, Kaius, sees me differently. He’s kind where Zane is cruel. Gentle where Zane is possessive. He offers me everything my mate hides from me: respect, partnership, freedom. The problem? My body responds to Zane’s dominance even as my heart breaks from his coldness. And the more Kaius shows me what love could look like, the more dangerous this becomes. Because Zane may not love me—but he’ll destroy anyone who tries to take what’s his. Even his own family. Torn between the mate who owns my soul and the man who sees it—which desire will damn me first?
View MoreThe silver tray trembled in my hands as I climbed the stairs to Alpha Zane’s chambers.
Bananas. Water. Fresh towels. The usual post-sex amenities he demanded whenever he entertained his women—which was often enough that I’d memorized the routine by heart. My heart shouldn’t have clenched anymore. After eight years of serving in this pack house, I should have been numb to it. But some foolish part of me—the girl who’d watched him save my dying pack when I was fourteen, who’d built him into a god in her mind—still ached every time I delivered this particular tray. Pathetic, I told myself, the word as familiar as my own name. I knocked once, then another time. No answer. Standard procedure when the Alpha was… occupied… was to leave the tray outside. But Head Servant Geraldine’s voice echoed in my skull: “He wants it brought in immediately. Don’t make me repeat myself, fat thing.” I pushed the door open. The scent hit me first, sex and sweat and the cloying fragrance of whatever she-wolf had earned his attention tonight. Then the sounds: flesh slapping against flesh, her high-pitched moans, his low grunts of exertion. I should have looked away. Should have set the tray down and fled like I always did. But I didn’t. My eyes found him on the bed—completely naked, every muscle in his back flexing as he drove into the woman beneath him. His body was a work of art, all power and predatory grace, and even knowing I had no right to look, I couldn’t stop myself. The woman noticed me first. Her gaze flicked over his shoulder, finding me frozen in the doorway, and her lips curled into a smirk even as she moaned louder. “The fat thing is watching us,” she purred between gasps. “Enjoying the show, are you?” Alpha Zane’s head snapped toward me. The disgust in his eyes when they landed on me was immediate. Visceral. Like I was something rotting he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. “Out,” he snarled. He didn’t stop or bother to even slow down. Instead—and this was the part that would replay in my nightmares for weeks—he grabbed the woman’s hips and flipped her onto her hands and knees, positioning her so she faced me directly. Then he slammed back into her, harder than before, his eyes locked on mine with cold cruelty. “Since you’re so eager to watch,” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain, “get a good look. This is what a real woman looks like when she’s being fucked by an Alpha.” The woman threw her head back and screamed his name, her perfect body arching in ways mine never could. I stumbled backward, the tray clattering from my hands. Fruit rolled across the floor. Water splashed against the doorframe. I didn’t care. I ran. Down the hallway, past the sneering faces of other servants who’d heard the commotion, past the guards who didn’t even bother hiding their laughter. I didn’t stop until I reached the servants’ quarters, locking myself in the bathroom with shaking hands. My reflection stared back at me from the cracked mirror: round face flushed with humiliation, body soft in all the places the slim she-wolves were carved and angular. Fat thing. That’s what they all called me. Even the other servants. But hearing it from her, while she writhed under him… while he looked at me like I was nothing… Heat flooded through me suddenly—unwanted, horrifying heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the images burned into my brain. The way his muscles had moved. The rough dominance in his voice. The raw, primal power of him. My hand slipped between my thighs before I could stop myself, desperate and ashamed, but the touch brought no relief. Only frustration. Because it wasn’t my hand I wanted. It was his—and that was the cruelest joke that had ever played. I gave up and turned the shower to freezing, letting the icy water shock the heat from my skin and the foolish dreams from my head. I stayed under that spray until my lips turned blue and my fingers pruned. Until I could breathe without seeing him. Until the ache between my legs dulled to something manageable.Morning came too soon. A knock at my door had me jerking awake, my heart immediately racing. It was a servant bringing breakfast. “The Alpha requests you present yourself to the pack this afternoon,” she said. “As is tradition after a Luna’s bonding.” Right. The formal introduction to the pack. The part where I had to stand beside Zane and pretend we were a mated pair. I picked at the food and tried not to think about last night. About what I’d seen. About the fact that my husband couldn’t even bear to touch me but apparently had no problem touching himself while thinking of… someone else. Because that’s what it had to be, right? He was thinking of one of his beautiful she-wolves. Imagining someone slim and perfect beneath him instead of— Stop it, I told myself firmly. Stop torturing yourself. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. They plagued me through getting dressed in the formal Luna attire the servants laid out. Through having my hair styled in an elabo
The great hall had been transformed. White flowers draped every surface—lilies and roses that filled the air with a cloying sweetness that made my stomach turn. Candles flickered in ornate holders, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the pack members who’d gathered to witness this farce. A wedding. A celebration. Except no one was celebrating. The wolves watched with neutral expressions as I walked down the aisle, my hand gripping the arm of Beta Ezra since I had no family to give me away. The white dress they’d forced me into was beautiful—silk and lace but it felt like a burial shroud. At the end of the aisle stood Alpha Zane. He looked devastating in his formal Alpha attire: black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders, his dark hair swept back to reveal those cold, perfect features. He could have been a groom from a fairytale. Except fairytale grooms didn’t look at their brides with thinly veiled contempt. His eyes swept over me once as I approached, find
“Alpha, I—” My voice came out broken and desperate. He didn’t let me finish. “Ezra.” Beta Ezra materialized from the darkness, along with two other wolves I recognized as Gammas. Before I could scramble away, they seized me, hauling me to my feet even as my legs buckled. “She tried to escape,” Ezra said, though they all clearly knew. Zane’s jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Drag her inside.” “No—please—” I thrashed, but my struggles only made them tighten their grip. They hauled me back through the gardens, past the servants’ quarters where curious faces peeked through windows, straight into the pack house. Into the main hall where Zane held his private meetings. They threw me to the floor. My knees cracked against marble, pain shooting up my legs. Alpha Zane loomed above me, every inch of him trembling with barely restrained fury. “You tried to escape,” he said, his voice deadly quiet. I couldn’t answer. “I gave you three d
I had three days to decide my fate. Three days to either sign the contract and become Alpha Zane’s breeding vessel, or refuse and face whatever “consequences” he’d promised. The choice should have been easy. Sign, survive, escape later. But every time I picked up the pen, my hand trembled so violently I couldn’t form the letters of my name. Because signing meant surrendering the last shred of dignity I had left. It meant admitting that all those years of worship, of foolish daydreams where he’d see me and soften, where he’d realize I was more than just a piece of furniture occupying space—all of it had been a lie I’d told myself to survive. The contract sat on the small table in my quarters, mocking me with its neat language: The Luna will bear the Alpha one male heir. Upon the child’s second birthday, the Luna will relinquish all parental rights and titles. The Luna will receive a settlement of 50,000 silver marks and safe passage to any territory of her choosing. F






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