HADES KRATOS (The Black Sparrow Society)

The air was thick with cedarwood and danger. Luna Veyra’s pulse hastened the moment she stepped into the Blackthorne estate. Here is a sprawling fortress of iron gates, glass towers, and wealth so sharp and  gleamed like a blade. She hadn’t wanted to come. Goddess knew she hadn’t come but the pull had dragged her here like invisible chains.

She felt it thrumming beneath her skin the moment she crossed the threshold, a restless energy that made her wolf pace with anticipation, then, she saw Damian Blackthorne. Alpha heir of the strongest pack on the East Coast.

A Billionaire whose name could silence boardrooms with a glance. He is ruthless untouchable and desired by every ambitious she-wolf in the city. This was man fated by the Moon Goddess to be hers! The bond snapped into place the instant their eyes met, surge of heat racing down her veins, burning her from the inside out. The pull was undeniable, intoxicating, devastating.

Instead of the warmth she had dreamed of since she was a girl, Luna was met with a pair of cold, storm-grey eyes narrowing in disdain. His lips curved not in welcoming her as expected, but in a razor-sharp smirk that sliced deeper than any blade.

“Of all people,” Damian’s voice rolled like thunder, low and dismissive. “The Moon Goddess must be playing a cruel joke.” Her breath hitched. His rejection landed like a physical blow on her but she forced her chin up, masking the tremor in her hands with defiance and tolerance. “I didn’t ask for this either,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

“But the bond is real. You felt it, same as I did.” within a shorter period, his mask cracked. Something dark and hungry flared in his gaze; a desire, raw and primal, this threatened to consume them both. But just as quickly, it vanished, buried beneath icy arrogance.

“You’ll learn,” Damian said, stepping closer until his towering frame eclipsed hers, “that what I feel doesn’t matter. My pack doesn’t need a weak, nameless girl pretending to be Luna at my side.” Her wolf snarled inside her, bristling at the insult.

She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t nameless. She was the last of the Veyra line, a healer’s daughter, raised in the shadows but born of strength. Still, his rejection pressed down on her chest, crushing and suffocating. Was this what fate meant? To give her a mate who despised her?

Damian’s scent hit her and then smoke, cedar, and sin. It wrapped around her senses like a cage. When his hand brushed her arm, sparks erupted, the bond igniting violently, and a gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it.

He leaned closer,  whisper a dangerous voice that skated along her skin. “Don’t mistake biology for destiny,” he murmured. “If you want to survive in my world, Luna Veyra, you’ll have to prove you’re more than a mistake.” This words lingered lingered like poison or  promise or both.

Before she could answer or say anything, the heavy doors of the hall burst open with a crash.A messenger stumbled inside with blood staining his shirt, panic etched across his face. “Alpha Damian, there is an attack on the northern border. Rogues.  They’re calling for your mate.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Damian’s eyes snapped to her, sharp and unreadable. “Why would rogues know your name?” Luna’s stomach dropped with fear. She didn’t know—but the fear that flared in her wolf’s chest told her this was no coincidence.

The messenger collapsed to his knees while clutching his ribs. “They’re demanding her. Said if Luna Veyra doesn’t come forward, they’ll burn everything in their path.” Damian growled his sounds shook walls one could imagine of earth tremor.

The room seemed to darken, the sheer force of his Alpha aura pressing down on everyone present. He crouched in front of the messenger, fury rolling off him in waves. “How do they know her name?” He roared with a lethal voice.

The messenger shook his head, gasping. “I.......aii...aaii..I don’t know. But they came prepared. they are  not like ordinary rogues.” Damian’s gaze flicked to Luna again, storm-grey and storm-wrath. Suspicion burned there, sharp enough to wound. “What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded. Luna’s lips parted, but no word came.

How could she explain the secrets buried in her bloodline—the whispers her mother had left behind before she died? The warnings that one day, the shadows would come for her? Her silence only hardened his expression.

“Fine,” Damian bit out. “If they want you, they’ll learn what it means to threaten my borders. You’re coming with me.” Her heart stuttered. “What?” His hand closed around her wrist, firm and unyielding. Sparks shot up her arm again, but she yanked against his grip.

“You don’t even want me,” she spat. “Why drag me into your war?” “Because whether I want you or not,” he growled, pulling her closer, “you’re mine. And no one touches what’s mine.” The words burned into her, hotter than the mate bond itself. Minutes later, the mansion was a storm of motion; guards arming themselves, warriors shifting into wolves, the estate gates grinding open.

Damian strode through the chaos with Luna in tow, his presence commanding obedience without a single word. She stumbled to keep up, her mind a whirlwind. Mated to a man who despised her. Dragged into a war she didn’t understand. Hunted by rogues who somehow knew her name. And yet… beneath the fear, a flicker of something dangerous stirred inside her.

Her wolf pushed against her skin, restless and eager. For the first time in years, she didn’t feel powerless. She felt ready. “Stay close,” Damian ordered, his eyes flashing silver as his wolf hovered just beneath the surface.

“And if I tell you to run, you run.” Luna met his gaze, defiance sparking even as terror gnawed at her. “I don’t run. Not anymore.” For the briefest moment, his lips twitched not with a quite a smile, but something softer, almost approving.

Then it was gone, replaced by cold determination. The northern forest stretched wide and wild, the scent of blood thick in the air. Dozens of rogue wolves prowled at the tree line, their eyes glowing with unnatural fury.

At their center stood a man, scarred and savage, his gaze locked not on Damian, but on Luna. “There she is,” the rogue leader snarled, voice carrying over the clearing. “The Veyra girl. Hand her over, and we’ll spare your pack.”

Damian’s grip tightened on her wrist, his growl low and lethal. “Over my dead body.” The rogue’s grin was feral. “That can be arranged.” The first wolf jumped from the shadows-fast, furious and fangs flashing. Luna’s scream stuck in her throat as the world exploded into chaos.