로그인Der Preis der Liebe in einer Welt, die auf Blut, Verrat und gebrochenen Versprechen ruht. Dieser Roman erkundet, wie in der Vergangenheit begrabene Geheimnisse zu Waffen der Gegenwart werden und ob die dunkelsten Seelen durch Liebe Erlösung finden oder für immer von den Imperien, die sie errichten, verschlungen werden. Im Kern wirft „Das letzte Versprechen des Teufels“ eine brennende Frage auf: Kann der Mann, der gelernt hat zu überleben, indem er niemandem vertraut, auch lernen, einem einzigen Menschen vollkommen zu vertrauen?
더 보기The Night She Stole the Alpha's Bike
Rhea's POV
"To the future heir of Ironclaw!"
The shout cut through the pounding bass like a knife, followed by a roar of approval from the pack. I froze in the doorway of the clubhouse, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach where my own secret grew.
Something was wrong.
The air in the underground den was thick with whiskey and testosterone. Bodies pressed together on the makeshift dance floor, wolves celebrating something I didn't understand yet. The dim lights cast shadows across familiar faces, all of them grinning, raising their glasses toward the VIP section.
Toward my mate.
I pushed through the crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs. The envelope in my jacket pocket suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Inside were the pregnancy test results I'd planned to give Kael tonight. Our future. Our family.
"Kael's finally done it," someone slurred near me. "Got himself a proper Luna. One who can actually produce an heir."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I shoved past the last row of bodies and stopped dead. There, on the raised platform where I should have been sitting, was a woman I'd never seen before. She was beautiful in that effortless way some she-wolves were, all flowing dark hair and perfect curves. But it was her swollen belly that made my blood turn to ice. Eight months pregnant, maybe more.
And she was wearing my Luna pendant.
"Congratulations, Alpha," someone called out. "About time you secured the bloodline."
Kael sat beside her, one arm draped casually across the back of her seat. He looked every inch the alpha he was, dangerous and untouchable in his leather cut. His dark eyes scanned the crowd with that predatory awareness that had first drawn me to him three years ago.
Those eyes found mine.
For a split second, something flickered across his face. Surprise, maybe. Or was it guilt? Then his expression went blank, carved from stone. The mate bond between us twisted violently in my chest. Pain radiated through every nerve.
"Kael?" My voice came out smaller than I intended.
He didn't answer. Didn't move. Just stared at me with those cold, empty eyes. The pregnant woman turned to follow his gaze. When she saw me, her lips curved into a smile that was pure venom. She placed one perfectly manicured hand on her belly and the other on Kael's thigh, claiming him with a casualness that shredded something vital inside me.
"Can we help you?" she asked sweetly.
The clubhouse had gone quiet. Every wolf in the room was watching now, waiting to see what would happen. Waiting to see me break.
My wolf snarled inside my head, demanding I fight. Demanding I rip that smug smile off her face and remind everyone who the real Luna was. But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
"Kael," I tried again, hating how my voice shook. "What is this?"
He took a long drink from his glass, still silent. The woman beside him laughed softly.
"Oh, sweetheart," she purred. "Didn't he tell you? I'm Selene. The mother of the Alpha's child." She paused, letting that sink in. "The future of this pack."
"That's not possible." The words tumbled out. "We're mates. We're.."
"Were," Kael said finally. His voice was flat, bored almost. "We were mates, Rhea."
The bond snapped tighter, choking me. "You can't just decide that. The mate bond doesn't work like that."
"It does when one mate is useless." Selene's hand rubbed circles on her belly. "An Alpha needs heirs. Strong heirs. Not a mate who wastes three years and produces nothing."
Three years. Three years of trying, of hoping, of monthly disappointments that had slowly eaten away at my confidence. Three years of Kael assuring me it didn't matter, that we had time, that he loved me regardless.
All lies.
"How long?" I forced the question past the lump in my throat. "How long has this been going on?"
Kael finally looked at me properly. There was no warmth in his gaze, no trace of the man who used to hold me like I was precious. "Does it matter?"
"Yes!" The word exploded out of me. "It matters! I'm your mate, Kael. Chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. You can't just replace me because.."
"Because you failed at the one job a Luna has?" Selene interrupted. She stood, her hand still protectively cradling her stomach. "He needs an heir. I gave him one. Simple as that."
My vision blurred. The room spun. That twisting in my bond intensified until I thought I might actually die from it. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.
But then Selene moved closer to Kael, and he didn't pull away. She kissed his cheek, and he let her. He let her claim him right in front of me, in front of the entire pack.
I stumbled backward, my hand clutching my own stomach. The secret that had brought me here tonight suddenly felt like a cruel joke.
"Rhea." Kael's voice stopped me. For just a moment, I thought I heard something in it. Regret, maybe. "It's better this way. You'll find another pack, another mate. Someone more suited to you."
"More suited to me?" I repeated numbly. "We're fated mates."
"And I'm choosing duty over fate." He stood, towering over everyone on the platform. The Alpha command in his voice made lesser wolves bow their heads. "This pack needs stability. It needs a future. Selene gives me that."
She preened beside him, victorious.
I wanted to scream. Wanted to shift and tear them both apart. I wanted to make him feel even a fraction of this agony that was ripping me in half. Instead, I ran.
I crashed through the crowd, ignoring the stares and whispers. Someone grabbed my arm but I wrenched free, my wolf surging so close to the surface that my skin burned.
The cool night air hit me as I burst through the exit, but it did nothing to stop the wave of nausea. I barely made it to the side of the building before I was sick, heaving until there was nothing left. Pregnant. I was pregnant with Kael's child, and he had just replaced me.
The bond pulsed weakly in my chest, a dying thing. My wolf howled inside my head, confused and furious and heartbroken all at once.
I pressed my forehead against the cold metal of the building, trying to think. Trying to process any of this. But all I could see was Selene's smug face. All I could hear was Kael's cold dismissal.
Rage bloomed hot and bright in my chest, burning away the grief. Burning away everything except one crystal clear thought.
If he wanted to discard me like trash, fine. But I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
I straightened, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My eyes landed on the private garage attached to the clubhouse. The one where Kael kept his most prized possessions.
The one with his custom motorcycle. The bike was legendary in pack circles. Black as midnight, built to his exact specifications, rumored to be bonded to his wolf somehow. He loved that bike more than anything.
More than me, apparently.
My feet moved before I fully decided, carrying me toward the garage. The door was locked, but I'd watched Kael open it a hundred times. My shaking fingers punched in the code, and the lock clicked open.
The motorcycle sat in the center of the space like a sleeping predator. Beautiful and deadly.
I threw my leg over it, my hands finding the familiar grips. The keys hung on a hook nearby, because Kael never thought anyone would be stupid enough to steal from an Alpha.
The engine roared to life, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. Somewhere behind me, alarms started screaming. Wolves started howling. I didn't care.
I gunned the throttle and burst out of the garage, the bike responding to my rage like it was made for it. The tires screeched as I tore through the compound, past shocked pack members, past the clubhouse where Kael was probably just now realizing what I'd done.
The mate bond seized in my chest, and I felt the exact moment he understood. His fury crashed into me through our connection, primal and terrifying.
But I was already gone, speeding into the night with tears streaming down my face and his bike between my legs.
And then something inside me snapped. Actually snapped. The bond that had connected us for three years severed violently, leaving a gaping wound where it used to be.
I gasped, nearly losing control of the bike. But I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Behind me, I swore I heard Kael's voice, carried on the wind and through the dying remains of our bond.
"Find her."
KAPITEL 10: Ein wieder geöffnetes GrabDante sah, wie sich ihr Gesicht veränderte, bevor sie ihm das Telefon zeigte, und in den drei Tagen hatte er genug gelernt, um zu wissen, dass das, was ihr die Farbe aus den Wangen gezogen hatte, keine Last war, die sie allein tragen konnte.„Aria.“Sie drehte den Bildschirm wortlos zu ihm, und er betrachtete das Foto: der Datenträger auf einem einfachen Holztisch, der Ring daneben, der ihm nichts bedeutete und für sie offenbar alles.„Das ist der Ring meines Vaters“, sagte sie, ihre Stimme unheimlich flach, die besondere Ruhe, in die sie sich zurückzog, wenn Alternative und Zerfall zu nah waren. „Ich habe ihn selbst an seine Hand gelegt, bevor sie den Sarg schlossen. Seit seiner Beerdigung habe ich ihn nicht mehr gesehen.“„Dann war derjenige, der dieses Foto schickte, an seinem Grab.“„Derjenige, der dieses Foto schickte, hat ihn ausgegraben.“ Sie bewegte sich bereits zurück zum Arbeitszimmer, zu Vittorio, zu der Maschinerie der Untersuchung, d
KAPITEL 9: Das Gesicht des Verrats„Das ist unmöglich“, sagte Celeste in der Tür, ihre Stimme dünn und angespannt. „Ich war vor elf Minuten bei Aria. Frag sie.“„Ich kann das bestätigen“, sagte Aria sofort. „Celeste war ungefähr von Viertel nach zwölf bis vielleicht fünf Minuten, bevor Lorenzo mich suchte, in meinem Zimmer. Die Zeit passt nicht, dass sie hier gewesen sein könnte.“Dante wandte sich vom Safe ab, und für einen Moment zeigte sein Gesicht einen Ausdruck, den Aria noch nie an ihm gesehen hatte, etwas zwischen Wut und Erleichterung, die spezielle Schwindelstarre eines Mannes, der verzweifelt glauben will, dass das Alibi seiner Mutter stimmt, und weiß, dass Wünschen die Wahrheit nicht verändert.„Vittorio“, sagte er. „Erklär mir, wie ein biometrisches Schloss einen Treffer für eine Person protokolliert, die physisch nicht anwesend war.“Vittorio arbeitete bereits, die Finger bewegten sich mit der kontrollierten Geschwindigkeit eines Mannes, der gegen die eigene Angst ankämpf
KAPITEL 8: Was in der Dunkelheit wartetAria rief nicht. Fünf Jahre Überleben hatten sie gelehrt, dass der Moment, in dem man seine Angst kundtut, dem Gegner genau die Information liefert, die er braucht; also stand sie schweigend vom Bett auf, ging barfuß durchs Zimmer und griff nach dem schweren Eisbrieföffner auf dem Schreibtisch, dem einzigen Gegenstand im Raum mit einer Kante.Die Schritte bewegten sich nicht fort. Sie klopften auch nicht. Sie blieben einfach stehen und warteten — auf der anderen Seite einer Tür, die sie nicht abgeschlossen hatte, weil sie glaubte, Dantes Leute draußen machten Schlösser überflüssig.Sie dachte an Dantes Männer draußen. Ihre Stimmen hatte sie seit einigen Minuten nicht gehört.Dieses Fehlen war eine eigene Art Alarm.Statt zur Tür ging sie zum Fenster, prüfte den Abstieg zur Terrasse darunter, berechnete die Distanz mit der automatischen Präzision einer Frau, die Fluchtwege in hunderten fremden Räumen einstudiert hatte, und hatte schon ein Bein üb
KAPITEL 7: Die Bedingungen SolovsViktor Solov traf an diesem Abend genau um neun auf dem Anwesen der Morrettis ein, was Dante mit jener besonderen Aufmerksamkeit zur Kenntnis nahm, die er der Pünktlichkeit schenkte, denn Männer, die ihre Ankunftszeit auf die Minute kontrollierten, wollten damit sagen, dass sie alles andere ebenso beherrschten.Er kam mit zwei Wachen und ohne sichtbar getragenen Waffen, was entweder echtes Vertrauen oder echte Zuversicht bedeutete, dass er Waffen nicht brauchen würde, um zu überleben, was in diesem Haus geschehen mochte; Dante vermutete Letzteres. Solov war wohl um die sechzig, gebaut wie ein Mann, der einst selbst Gewalt ausgeübt hatte und diese Arbeit längst an andere delegiert hatte, silbernes Haar, blasse Augen, gekleidet in einen grauen Anzug, der mehr kostete als die Autos der meisten Männer.Sie trafen sich im formellen Empfangszimmer statt im Arbeitszimmer, eine bewusste Entscheidung Dantes, neutrale Erde mit Sichtlinien zu drei Ausgängen und





