Ayla Hart was born a Guardian, descended from bloodlines that protect Alphas with their lives. Her mother died saving the Luna. Her father was paralyzed shielding the Alpha. Now Ayla is destined to protect the future Alpha Kieran Vale, the boy she’s trained her whole life for. But Kieran doesn’t even know she exists. When ruthless Alpha Thorne of Black River declares Ayla as his fated mate, the peaceful life she’s known turns violent. Caught between Kieran’s cold indifference and Thorne’s dangerous desire, Ayla must decide if she’s a prize to be claimed or a wolf who gets to choose. Then a third Alpha rises from the shadows to claim Ayla by force, believing she’s his to control. Ayla isn’t just a Guardian. She’s the first of her kind born, not reborn. That makes her powerful. That makes her hunted. They want her as Luna, but will it be by force, by fate, or will she make her own Choice?
View MoreCara’s POV Sleep never came. Even when I dragged myself back inside, curled up under my sheets, and shut my eyes tight, all I could feel was the ghost of Lucian’s hand around mine. All I could hear was his voice telling me this was inevitable.By the time dawn broke, I was restless and worn out. Training was the last thing I wanted, but duty wasn’t optional. I forced myself up, dressed, and tied my hair back before heading to the clearing. The air was cool, crisp, but the pit in my stomach was heavy. Cyran was already there, waiting. His dark hair glinted in the rising sun, his stance relaxed but sharp in that way only he could manage. When his eyes found mine, they softened, warm in a way that Lucian’s never were.“You didn’t sleep,” he said simply.I stiffened. “Neither did you.”He tilted his head, almost smiling. “True. But I don’t have shadows under my eyes.”I gave him a flat look, but my chest warmed despite myself. Cyran had that effect—steady, grounding. He didn’t demand,
Lucian’s POVBlood. The smell clung to me like a curse, soaking my skin, coating my tongue. No matter how many battles I’d fought, it never left me. It was worse this time, though. Because Cara had been there. Because the rogue’s claws had nearly touched her. Because if I’d been a heartbeat slower, she would have been torn from me forever.I couldn’t get the image out of my head of her standing there with a jagged branch in her hands, defiant despite her trembling legs. She hadn’t run. She hadn’t screamed. She’d faced down a monster.And my wolf, Kai, had nearly lost his mind seeing her in danger.“She’s ours,” he growled inside me, pacing, restless. “We almost lost her. Never again.”My grip on the steering wheel tightened until it creaked. We were halfway back to the packhouse, Cara in the passenger seat beside me. Her head leaned against the window, her breathing even, but I could see the way her fingers curled against her thighs. She was pretending to be calm, but I knew the stor
Cara’s POVThe forest pressed in on me, every shadow carrying the weight of eyes. I shouldn’t have followed. I told myself that a hundred times as I crept through the trees, but my body had moved before my mind caught up. Something in my chest, an invisible tether, had yanked me after Lucian.And now, I was standing in the clearing, watching him bleed.Lucian’s body was a blur of motion, his muscles straining, claws flashing as he tore into the rogue Alpha. Every sound the snap of bone, the guttural snarls ripped through me like shrapnel. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Not when his blood stained the dirt. Not when every strike he took felt like it landed in my chest.The rogue Alpha’s words clung to me like poison. She is not your salvation. She is your doom.I had always known I was different. The endless training, the way my father drilled survival into me, the way the elders looked at me when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. But to hear it spoken aloud, twisted into
Lucian’s POVThe forest was silent. Too silent. Even the usual chorus of night creatures had fallen quiet, as if the land itself held its breath, waiting to see what blood would be spilled.I moved with steady purpose, each step carrying me deeper into rogue territory. The air grew thicker, heavy with damp earth and the lingering stench of unwashed bodies. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, but I pressed on. I had promised myself that if there was even a chance to learn what they wanted with Cara, I would face it.The moonlight filtered through the skeletal trees, painting the ground in fractured shadows. I felt the weight of eyes on me long before the rogues stepped into view.They emerged from the darkness one by one, a half-circle of snarling faces and tense shoulders. Their Alpha stood at the center, taller than I remembered, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural hunger. His mouth curved in a grin that showed too many teeth.“Lucian,” he drawled, his voice slick like oil. “
Cara’s POVThe days bled into one another, though I could no longer tell where night ended and morning began. In the infirmary, time was measured by the rise and fall of Lucian’s shadow when he entered, by the bitter sting of the healer’s tonics, by the aching silence that pressed against me when the room was empty.The wound across my ribs had knitted enough that I could walk short distances, though every step carried the ghost of fire. Lucian hated that I insisted on standing. He said my body was still too weak. But lying helpless had worn me raw, and I would not be treated like porcelain.Tonight, the fortress felt strangely alive. I heard whispers in the halls. Warriors pacing. The scent of iron and woodsmoke drifted through the air. Tension hung like a storm cloud, heavy and unyielding.I pushed myself upright, ignoring the flare of pain. The moonlight spilling through the tall windows painted the room silver, and for a heartbeat, I wondered if the goddess herself was watching.
Cara’s POVThe cheers still echoed in my ears long after the crowd had dispersed. They hadn’t been celebrating victory. They had been celebrating fear.Lucian thrived in it. I saw it in the way his shoulders squared, the way his eyes gleamed when the pack roared his name. He had them wrapped tight, bound not in trust but in terror.And yet… I had taken his hand.That moment replayed in my mind over and over. My skin still burned where his fingers had closed around mine, a fire no rain could extinguish. Why had I done it? Because I believed him? Because in the chaos and blood and betrayal, his presence steadied me?Or was it something darker?Artemis stirred beneath my skin, restless, agitated. He is in danger. He is in power. He is ours.I flinched at her voice. She had been saying that more and more lately, whispering things I didn’t want to admit.The square had emptied, but I couldn’t move. My boots were caked with mud, my body heavy with exhaustion, yet my mind raced. The traitor
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