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Treason
publish date:
2026-10-27 18:14:24
Latest chapter
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess Treason
Sebastian leads us down a hallway lined with portraits, generations of golden-haired men and women staring down at us with the same faintly unimpressed expression Julian is currently wearing. The ceilings climb so high they disappear into shadow. Our footsteps echo off marble that's probably older than most countries. "Breathe," Julian murmurs, not looking at me, like he can feel my pulse spiking through the bond. "I am breathing." "Badly." He's not wrong. I smooth down the front of the dress Livana picked out for me on the plane, a deep emerald thing that apparently matches "house colors," whatever that means, and wish I'd asked more questions before agreeing to wear it. The doors to the dining hall are already open when we reach them, twin slabs of dark wood carved with wolves mid-howl. The room beyond is the kind of grand that makes you feel small on purpose. Gold leaf curls up a ceiling painted with some battle scene I don't recognize, candlelight throws everyone's shadow twi
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess The Royal Palace
My mate, meanwhile, is still in the doghouse, though keeping him there is hard work. Fair or not, I'm hurt, and I'm punishing him for whatever I might have to deal with in Germany. The more I try to ignore him, the more he insists on keeping me close. Some people might call it charming. I call it annoying. Right now he's force-feeding me breakfast while explaining each dish. "Come on, open up, my love. I know you'll like this one," he says, holding a forkful of something called Sharlotka, a kind of apple cake, up to my mouth. He's already fed me blini (something between a pancake and a crepe, served with butter, sour cream, jam, and caviar) and semolina porridge, plus the usual fried egg, sausage, yogurt, and fresh fruit. It was all delicious, and I'm already full, but I can't tell him that because I'm not talking to him, see? This is all part of his plan to make me speak. This is our battle. He's so stubborn and sneaky and obnoxious. I'm tempted to punch him in the throat. If I did
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess A reasonable speed limit
By the time we step out of the shower, all our luggage has been carried downstairs by luggage fairies. Okay, not really. But it's all gone. I'm nearly ready when he emerges from the walk-in closet. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and he leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, watching me twist my hair into a French braid. He looks sharp and flawless... and regal. His jaw is smooth, and his golden hair gleams, swept back from his face. He's wearing a navy cable-knit V-neck over a white shirt with a blue silk tie, dark grey trousers, and polished black leather boots. "You look beautiful however you wear your hair," he says, pushing off the doorframe to stand behind me. His warm, hard body presses against my back, and he slides his long, elegant fingers through my hair, then winds the braid around his hand like a rope. "But I much prefer it down." He kisses the curve of my neck, his eyes holding mine in the mirror. "Wild, and wrapped around my fingers." "I know," I whispe
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess A Quickie?
Warm, rich male scent, a soft duvet, and a hard, warm body draped over mine all feel like heaven. The shrieking alarm does not. I groan and order it to shut up. It ignores me. Stubborn thing. I wriggle one arm free and stretch toward the phone on the nightstand, but my arm falls short. My mate grumbles and hauls me back against him. Why is it going off so early? It's still dark. The sun isn't even up. Stupid alarm. Seriously, so stupid... Wait. Alarm. Holy mackerel. Airport. Germany. We have a plane waiting. "Julian!" I pull my arm out again and grab his shoulder. "Julian!" I shake him. "Wake up! We have to get up." "Mmm... shhh... sleep..." he mumbles, burying his face deeper into the hollow of my neck. My mate is not a morning person. He's the one who set that alarm last night, and somehow I'm the one stuck waking him. "Julian, get up!" I shove at his weight. It's like pushing a boulder. "Julian!" He groans, wedges a knee between my legs, and the hand curled around my breast
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess Hefty Bonus
"Caleb!" I throw my arms around my cousin, even though I know he hates hugs... or maybe precisely because I know he hates hugs. I'm pretty sure he's fighting an eye roll at my theatrics. It's only been two days, and I'm carrying on like I haven't seen him in years. He gives me a stiff little pat while trying to slyly push me off. Oh, Caleb. He's basically Oscar the Grouch. Such a sweetheart. I'll need to work harder at annoying him. "Lilith!" I hug Lilith next, and she giggles and squeezes back. Finally, someone glad to see me. "So good to see you again, Freya!" she says. Jacob stands behind Lilith near the couch, smiling widely. "Hey, Jacob!" I barely manage a step before something jerks me back by my jacket collar. I scowl at Julian, but he isn't even looking at me. He's too busy shooting Jacob an icy glare. Jacob's grin evaporates. "Good to see you, Freya. I'm just going to... uh, go fold laundry. Bye!" In seconds he's vanished behind his bedroom door. Yep, Jacob is very
From Pack Slave to Lycan Princess I got Hitched
Everything looks a little different today, and I know the change is in me. I'm still changing. My senses are sharper, yes, but it goes deeper than that. Something inside has shifted how I see the world. Seated in the auditorium between Livana and Julian, the room feels both ordinary and completely foreign. Strangers with familiar faces fill the seats around us. I don't know any of them, but I've passed them so often that they've worn a groove in my memory. Right in front of us sit the three girls I privately dubbed "The Sundress Squad," though no sundresses today. We've only ever interacted once: they mocked me and my hobo hoodie on my first day, and I flipped them off. As for everyone else, we've never exchanged a word, yet I feel like I know them. There was a time I felt like one of them, or maybe I just ached to be. Now I feel distant, like a lion standing in a herd of zebras. I don't want to hurt them, but they seem so breakable. I've never felt more certain that I don't belong t
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