LOGINSaphra spent her life running from the man who destroyed her world. Lucien, the ruthless Alpha of Darkveil, wiped out her pack and left her with nothing but memories that never stopped burning. And she had sworn that she’d find him one day and kill him. But when she finally infiltrates his fortress, her plan falls apart the moment their eyes meet. The man she’s hunted for years turns out to be her fated mate, unknown to her. And soon the reality of what had transpired dawns on her. Now she has two choices. To kill the man she had lived to hate, or save a prophecy.
View MoreSAPHRA’S POV
I woke up screaming again. My hands were shaking violently as sweat ran through my face. I was panting heavily. It was the same nightmare. It had always been the same one. One where I would see my father with horror in his eyes. I could see the blade going through his chest. The sound he had made as he took his last breath still echoed in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push it away. Of course it never worked. “Saphra, stop,” I screamed to myself, panting and wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. The room was damp and it smelled of old wood. I turned to look at the tiny window with a cracked frame. And just then, I saw the first light. Another day had dawned. It was another day to roam about this town. Another place I didn’t belong. The mattress on the floor was thin. So thin that it felt like I slept on the bare floor. I looked down at my clothes that were too big and patched in places. I tugged a faded tunic on and tied my trousers with a scrap of rope. I shoved my feet into boots that were falling apart, and slid the small knife I kept under the mattress into my belt. Just then, there was a knock on the door. It was unexpected so I jumped. “Rent’s due today,” said a gruff voice from outside that made me groan silently as I rolled my eyes. I walked to the door and opened it a little bit. Just enough for the landlord to see my face. He was a fat man that had a beard that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I know,” I said. “I’ll have it by tonight.” “You better,” he said. “Or you’re out. Don’t care if you’re a girl or not.” He replied, looking at me with disgust before walking off. I shut the door immediately and leaned my back against it. I didn’t have the money. Well, not yet. Because I was going to get it. I always found a way. After ensuring I was set enough, I step out into the streets. The street was loud and messy. It had all sorts of people shouting, with the carts clattering and merchants calling. It was a bigger town. Bigger than the ones I had formerly roamed in. I kept my head down and tried to be invisible. “Fresh bread!” “Apples, sweetest apples!” My stomach growled as I looked at the wares of the vendors chanting. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. I needed food, and I needed coins. And just then, I saw the chance. At the edge of the market a merchant was distracted, talking about some fine cloth. A small pouch sat near the edge of his table. My fingers itched. And sneakily, I took a step closer. “Hey! What are you doing?” My eyes widened in horror. He had seen me. My heart thudded. “I…I…I wasn’t doing anything,” I said, stepping back. “Don’t lie,” he snapped and grabbed my arm. “I saw you eyeing my pouch. I should call the guards.” I tried to pull free but he tightened his grip. Panic rose in my chest immediately. Without thinking, I gathered my whole strength and yanked my arm hard. He stumbled back and let go. I didn’t need to be told. I took to my heels without looking back. “Stop her! Thief!” I shoved through people, pushing past the lined up carts. My ears were filled with shouts and curses, but it didn’t stop my legs. I then turned into an alley and pressed my back against the wall. Footsteps thundered by, then faded. I slid down and put my face in my hands. Woah! That was really really pretty close. My stomach growled again. I wiped dirt from my pants and slipped out of the alley. And just then, I heard a loud voice across the town square. A man stood on a crate, shouting. “The Darkveil Alpha is expanding! He’s taking the eastern borders! Good pay for traders, builders, anyone who’ll go!” The announcement hit my chest like a thud. Lucien. Alpha to the dark veil park. My hands clenched so tight until my knuckles ached. He killed my father. He erased my pack and unknowingly left me as the only surviving member. He tore my life apart. He literally rendered me homeless. And I was definitely not going to let that slide. If Darkveil was looking for workers, finally the gods have decided to smile on me. That was going to be my way in. I stood where I was, hoping to get more information. People had gathered around the man who stood on the crate. “Where do I sign up?” someone had asked. “There’s a caravan tomorrow before sunrise. West gate,” he shrugged. “They’ll take anyone who shows.” Tomorrow. Just one more day to prepare and get ready to fulfill my mission. That night I planned. I would join the caravan, blend in, get close, and find him. I would finish this. Dawn found me at the west gate. Men and a few women milled about. A tall man with a scar walked over. “You here for the caravan?” he asked. “Yes.” “You got any skills?” “Carry things. Cook. Whatever you need.” He looked me over. “Fine. Stay close and don’t cause trouble.” We started just as the sun came up. Twenty of us walked behind carts loaded with supplies. I kept my head down. No one paid much attention. That was good. We walked all day. My feet blistered and my stomach ached. At a stop under a tree an older woman sat beside me. “You look tired,” she said. “I’m fine,” I lied. She handed me a piece of bread. “First time traveling?” “No.” “You shouldn’t skip meals,” she scolded gently. “Here.” I stared at the bread like I hadn’t seen food in years. I took it. “Why give this to me?” I asked. “Because you look like you need it,” she said, smiling. “My name is Mara. What’s yours?” “Saphra.” “If you need anything, tell me. This group’s not easy.” “I can handle it,” I said, but I wasn’t sure I meant it. We traveled three more days. Each step took me closer and made my heart proud heavier. Whether with joy or with anxiety, I couldn’t tell. By the time the palace walls of Darkveil rose in front of us, my body felt hollow. But still, I was more than determined. It was finally time to achieve the purpose and reason I had struggled to survive all these years. The fortress was huge with high walls and guards everywhere. It looked like a place that swallowed people. “He’s ruthless,” Mara said beside me. “He doesn’t tolerate weakness.” “I know,” I said. We were herded into a courtyard. A man in armor barked orders. “Line up! Do your jobs. Keep your heads down. Cause trouble and you’re out.” One by one we were assigned. When it was my turn the man frowned. “You’re small. Kitchen work.” “Fine,” I said. He waved me off and I followed a guard toward the kitchens. I kept my composure but my heart raced. But I wasn’t going to let this fear stop me. I stood in the kitchen doorway for a moment and watched the cooks moving about and carrying out their duties. The kitchen smelled of sweat and stew. I took a deep breath, wiped my hands on my tunic, and stepped in. I would learn the work. I would be small and unseen. I would wait for the moment. And when it came, I would make him pay.LUCIEN’S POVI should not still be standing.Every step from the outer gate to my chambers is an act of will, my vision tunnelling, the world narrowing to blood and iron, and the taste of copper on my tongue. My shirt is ruined, shredded by claws that were not meant to leave witnesses alive. Warmth slicks my skin, soaking the fabric, dripping down my spine and ribs. The stone floors blur beneath my boots.Hands reach for me.Healers and Guards their voices overlapping.I bare my teeth and snarl, a sound torn straight from my chest. “Away.”They hesitate. They always do when they see this much blood. When they see the tremor, I can no longer hide. When they smell it.I shove one aside and keep moving. The door to my chambers looms ahead.“Saphra,” I rasp. “Bring her.”Silence ripples outward at the name.They exchange glances then someone nods and runs.I make it to the bed and sit heavily on the edge, breath sawing in and out of my lungs. The world tilts. I brace myself with both hand
MARCUS’S POVI tell myself the excuse is sufficient.Security protocols are always sufficient. No one questions them openly, not when they come from me. Still, even as I walk the familiar corridor toward Saphra’s quarters, the words feel thin in my mouth, like a poorly forged document that might crumble under scrutiny.Inspecting locks. Windows. Entry points.Pathetic.I stop in front of the door anyway and knock, slower this time. Controlled.... Measured.The door opens.Mara looks at me for exactly half a second before one eyebrow arches with devastating precision.“Security protocols?” she repeats.I clear my throat. “Routine inspection.”Her mouth curves, not quite a smile and not quite a challenge. “Of course it is.”She steps aside without further comment and lets me enter.The room looks the same as yesterday spare and clean, deliberately unremarkable. Sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting pale stripes across the stone floor. Mara closes the door behind me and imme
MARCUS’S POV I should not be here.The knowledge follows me down the corridor like a shadow I can not outrun. Lucien’s order still vibrates in my bones and yet every instinct I possess screams that inaction now is betrayal later.I will find more proof.Something tangible. Something undeniable. Something even Lucien can not sweep from his desk with one furious motion.Saphra’s quarters sit in a quieter wing of the palace. There are no guards stationed outside like they should.I stop before the door and knock sharply, the sound cracking through the corridor like a command.Footsteps then a pause.The door opens.A woman stands at the entrance blocking the entry.I have seen her before, I think I have. Servants blur together after a while, faces half-remembered, bodies moving in predictable patterns. I know her as a shape, I have seen her carrying trays, and seen her presence in doorways.But this...This is different.Afternoon light spills through the windows behind her, catching i
MARCUS’S POVI have stood before Lucien Darkveil while cities burned.I have delivered reports soaked in blood, casualty counts that would have broken lesser Alphas. I have argued strategy while enemies pounded at our borders and traitors rotted in our dungeons.Never—not once have my hands shaken like they do now.I request the private audience at dusk. The guards open the doors without question. They always do. I have earned that much trust and respect.Lucien’s study smells of ink, leather, and old stone. Firelight paints the walls in gold and shadow. He stands near the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring out over the palace grounds as if he expects something to rise up from them.He does not turn when I enter.“Speak,” he says.I cross the room and lay the report on his desk.One document becomes several. I spread them carefully, methodically, as if precision might anchor what I am about to say.I begin with the least volatile point.“Her origin,” I say. “There are no r






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