LOGINBorn without a wolf, I was an outcast in my own pack. The only one who chose me was my Alpha husband… until I found out my sister was carrying his heir. When I tried to leave, he refused to break our bond. So I ran… straight into the arms of the one man I should never have touched, his uncle, the Alpha King. With him, my dormant wolf awakened. The mate bond snapped into place. For one reckless night, I was his. After weeks, he rejected me before his entire court. Now I’m carrying a child both Alphas could claim. My husband has locked me away for the heir. The King pretends I don’t exist. My sister wants me destroyed. They thought I was weak. They forgot I survived without a wolf. Now I must decide; Will I remain their prisoner or will I fight for my freedom, my child, and the crown they never meant for me to wear?
View MoreFreya I knew something bad was going to catch up with me, I just didn't think it would be that swift. I didn’t see them arrive, and that bothered me more than anything else.If not for what came after, they would have remained just another absence in the trees, another shadow among shadows, and I would have continued believing that Thornfield was untouched, but it wasn’t.I realized that the moment Caden found me after dinner. He didn’t sit this time and that was the first sign.The second was the way his eyes moved. It wasn't reckless or anxious. Instead, it was precise, like he was still tracking something even while standing still in front of me.“There are two of them,” he said without preamble.“What?” I muttered. “Who?” “Spies.” The words slid past his lips immediately, and my hand stilled halfway to my cup.“Where?” I almost didn't believe him, but I knew Caden wasn't the type to joke around, and especially not about things like this. “North tree line,” he replied. “They a
Ragnar Sleep had become something unreliable and I hated it. It came in fragments now, shallow, uneven, and breaking apart the moment I became aware of it. I woke at odd hours with my hand already pressed flat against my chest, fingers digging into fabric like I could anchor whatever was happening beneath my ribs.The ache had changed.It was no longer sharp, and no longer something I could dismiss as the lingering echo of a severed bond. It had settled into something quieter. It was worse, like a low, persistent heat and a heaviness that did not lift.By the second week, I stopped pretending it would pass on its own.“Send for Alder,” I told Davan without looking up from the document in front of me. He didn’t ask questions. He never did. He only inclined his head slightly and left.Alder took his time. He always did, and it was a miracle how I was still alive by the time he finally arrived. He moved with the careful precision of someone who understood that rushing was how things
Freya Two days after that night outside the fence, Mira found me just as I was finishing breakfast.“Clear your morning,” she said, setting a hand on the back of the bench. “Come to the clinic when you’re done. This will take time.”There was something in her tone that made me look up properly. It wasn't urgency in her voice, nor was it panic, but weight. “What kind of time?” I asked.“The kind you don’t rush,” she replied. “Finish eating. Take your time, but not too much time.” She didn’t wait for my answer. She just turned and walked out, and even though I'd sworn to myself to remain positive out here, something about that just didn't sit right with me. I stared at my bowl for a moment longer, then set the spoon down. I wasn’t hungry anymore.The clinic looked different when I stepped inside.. It was still clean, still orderly in a way the rest of Thornfield wasn’t, but the center table had been cleared completely, and in its place were three old books laid open, their pages y
Freya By the third week at Thornfield, my body had decided it was done being subtle.I woke each morning with a heaviness that felt like someone had poured sand into my bones overnight, and by midday, my limbs dragged. By afternoon, I could barely keep my eyes open, and my sense of smell, goddess help me, had sharpened into something almost violent. I could tell what Helga was cooking from the far side of the settlement, could separate thyme from rosemary from bay leaf without stepping inside the kitchen. It would have been impressive if it hadn’t also made me gag when someone walked past wearing too much smoke in their clothes.Mira monitored me with calm, unshakable efficiency.“Sit,” she would say each morning, already wrapping the cuff around my arm before I could argue.“I’m fine,” I muttered one morning as she pumped air into it.“That isn’t an answer to anything I asked,” she replied evenly.She checked my blood pressure, my pulse, and my eyes. She asked about my sleep, and






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