LOGINRowan, 31
"Today is his son's wedding, Alpha. Can we just give him the decency of enjoying a father-of-the-groom day before taking him in for questioning?"
Aaron, my Beta and second-in-command, matched my long strides as we turned out of the elevator. I barely paid heed to his words.
"I don't have the decency to wait another hour, Aaron," I replied, the voidness in my voice absolute. It was the same hollow tone I had carried for thirteen years.
In two months, I would hit the thirteenth anniversary of losing my bride—the woman I loved, the woman I had failed to protect.
And Aaron was asking me to have mercy on a man who might hold the answers as to why the woman I loved and her family were slaughtered before my wedding even began?
Hell, no.
"Yes, Alpha," Aaron responded quietly.
The target was Marcus Thorne. To the outside world, and specifically to his Crimson Ridge Pack down in Oklahoma, Marcus was a wealthy philanthropist with deep pockets and high connections.
But beneath the polished veneer, I knew what he really was: a monster. A high-ranking associate of the Hunters.
His son had been living in Buston for the last few years, attending a human university, and was currently marrying a local girl.
I didn’t care about the son, and I certainly hadn't bothered to research the bride's family. The only man I wanted was Marcus.
"Twenty million dollars," Zaric scoffed, walking on my other side. Zaric was the youngest of the Vexley brothers, a prodigy with a smartwatch he currently had synced to the underground servers. "That's the bounty they just dropped on the Almighty Beast of Flames."
I clenched my jaw, a sharp surge of disappointment cutting through me. "Twenty million? They’ve made me look incredibly cheap."
Zaric chuckled, tapping a sequence into his watch. "Hey, give the Hunters some credit, brother. They might actually be low on liquid funds right now. Plus, they're desperate to eliminate you. They probably scraped together every last dime they're worth."
I said nothing, my eyes fixed on the ornate double doors of the reception hall at the end of the corridor.
"It means the agency must have notified her," Aaron noted, his tone turning serious. "Since you decided to purposefully reveal your face to that border camera yesterday, the hit is officially active."
"Exactly," Zaric added, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Now that the great Beast of Flames is revealed, the Hunters will be too terrified to react directly. But Viper? The assassin who supposedly slays the most powerful without breaking a sweat? She won't hold her blade just to make a point. I kind of want to meet her.
I ignored them both. My thoughts were consumed entirely by Marcus Thorne. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides.
I had personally slain six men associated with that night thirteen years ago. Six men I had burned to ash, and not a single one had given me the vital information I craved before they died.
And now, Marcus was next.
We stepped into the massive reception hall just as the groomsmen were filing through a side door. My eyes immediately scanned the crowd for Thorne.
But the moment my presence registered, the room erupted into absolute, paralyzed chaos.
I might not be publicly known as the Beast of Flames, but every single person in this room knew the Supreme Alpha of Stormveil. They knew the Fire Lord of the Ashwing bloodline.
People gasped, stepping back to create a wide berth around us. Whispers tore through the room like wildfire.
They were shocked that the most powerful Alpha in the territory would grace a wedding for a family they believed had no connection to me.
Some even whispered that the groom's family must be secretly incredibly powerful.
Well, he drew me here, certainly he was.
Through the parting crowd, I spotted him.
Marcus Thorne was already making his way toward me, a sickening, stunned yet welcoming smile plastered across his face.
The old fool clearly hadn't gotten the memo. The Hunters hadn't connected the dots yet. They didn't realize that the man who had been burning their associates to ash in revenge for the slaughter thirteen years ago was the very Alpha standing in this room.
But before Marcus could take another step toward me, something painful hit me.
A sharp, violent fire tore through my chest, coupled with a thrilling, agonizing sensation of pure pleasure. It was so intense it nearly forced me to shift into my Phoenix and wolf forms right there in the middle of hundreds of people.
I stumbled at the sheer force of it. Hotness ignited deep in my bones, and my wolf released a guttural, frantic groan in the back of my mind.
“Mate!” my wolf roared, screaming the unspeakable word I hadn't felt since the night Alina died.
But how the hell was that possible? Alina was my mate, and she had died.
unless....could the moon goddess had blessed me with another mate?
it was a rare occurrence, but it wasn't impossible.
"Fuck!" I cursed under my breath, my hands gripping my knees as I tried to ground myself.
Aaron and Zaric instantly closed ranks, shielding me from the staring crowd, who respectfully remained five steps back, completely unaware of the supernatural fire burning through my veins.
"Are you okay, Alpha?" Aaron asked, his voice tight with concern.
I shoved him aside, my skin burning. "Attend to Thorne," I ordered coldly, burying the burning pain as hard as I could. "Tell them the wedding will not commence until I am comfortable."
I turned my back on them, completely ignoring Aaron's confused nod as I tracked the scent.
It was intoxicating. Sweet wood and jasmine, heavily laced with the metallic, undeniable tang of blood. It was an incredibly unusual, dominant scent for a female.
For a split second, given the strong, aggressive aura radiating from the bond, I would have thought the Moon Goddess had made a mistake and paired me with a male.
But then the side doors of the hall pushed open and the prettiest being ever walked in.
My wolf rattled violently against my ribs, daring me to close the distance, craving desperately to bury its nose in the scent.
My heart ached with the powerful, unspeakable pull drawing me toward the most beautiful red-haired woman I had ever seen.
I took her in. Her face, her lips, the delicate curve of her fingers gripping her phone. She wasn't even looking at the chaos her entrance—or my presence—had caused. Her eyes were glued to the screen in her hand.
She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
A guest, backing away from my guards, bumped into her shoulder. The force wasn't hard at all, but she was so profoundly stunned that the phone slipped from her fingers.
It hit the floor and she just stared down at the blank screen, looking utterly breathtaking yet entirely minimized by whatever had just shattered her reality.
My wolf shoved me forward. I was halfway to her when I paused mid-step, my eyes moving to her neck.
Sprawling up her throat was a bold, dark tattoo of a raven tangled in roses. But I didn't just see the ink. I recognized the placement and I fuck as hell recognized the shape beneath it.
A low, dark smirk played on my lips as I closed the final distance.
The perfect twist of fate. My little mate was the fierce, unknown assassin currently carrying a twenty-million-dollar bounty to kill me.
Now I knew exactly why she looked so completely stunned. She had possibly just received the picture and she had just realized the Beast of Flames she was hired to kill was the Supreme Alpha of Stormveil.
I walked over, crouching smoothly to pick up the phone from the carpet. I stood, holding it out to her, deciding in that split second exactly how I was going to play this. I was going to let her know instantly who she was dealing with.
She raised her head. Wow.
She had the most endearing, piercing hazel eyes that perfectly matched the brownish-red tone of her hair. They mirrored the earthy elegance of her simple, stunning dress.
I couldn't place it, but it just she just felt so familiar, like we've met before... but then again i knew we haven't.
i would never forget such a beauty if I had.
I felt her physically jump at how close we were.
"Mate," I rumbled, my voice low and absolute.
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Sorry, what?" she breathed.
Fuck. Her voice. They were like music to my ears.
I needed to get myself in order. The mate bond was already trying to make me look obsessed, twisting my grief into an immediate, ravenous hunger.
But I would play the card. I would play the game with her, and only because I knew she was out to kill me. And when I was bored, or when the Hunters were dealt with, I would discard her.
"Mate," I repeated, my tone hardening.
She snatched the phone from my hand, muttering something under her breath about me being crazy. She turned, attempting to walk away, but I didn't miss the look in her eyes before she moved.
It wasn't just shock. It was a hateful, venomous glare. It was a look of deep, profound loathing.
Does she hate me that much? But why?
"I'm no one's mate," she snapped, not looking back.
"Previously, yes," I countered smoothly, stepping into her path. "But not anymore."
She paused. The chaos in the hall had dialed down to a suffocating silence and seemingly everyone was watching us now. We weren't speaking loudly, but the entire room could sense the dangerous, pretentious respect radiating between us.
A low, menacing smile suddenly curved her lips.
She tilted her chin up, her hazel eyes locking onto mine with absolute defiance.
"Well then," she said, raising her voice so it carried clearly to the farthest corners of the room. "I reject you as my mate, Alpha."
The entire people in the hall gasped in shock, but my lips stretched into a look of genuine amusement—the first I’d felt in years.
Rowan povThe darkness that settled over the Stormveil cliffs was absolute, heavy, and freezing, broken only by the fierce, orange glow of the twin ceremonial fire-pits roaring on either side of the ancient stone altar.The pine-scented smoke rose in thick, dark columns toward the cloud-choked sky, carrying the sweet, heavy fragrance of the dried white jasmine garlands that draped the iron perimeter posts.Below the cliffs, the estate was entirely silent–a manufactured, deadly quiet designed to make our home look like a sleeping prize. But as my boots crunched softly against the frost-dusted gravel, my eyes tracked the faint, green glowing lines of the tactical headsets worn by the vanguard sentries stationed in the deep shadows of the wall.I walked the length of the northern parapet, the biting mountain wind whipping my heavy leather coat against my thighs as I conducted my final inspection
Romy povThe wind howling off the Stormveil cliffs tasted of oncoming snow and ozone, whipping the hem of my emerald-green gown against my boots as I stood near the edge of the ancient stone altar. From this height, the entire valley was laid out like a massive, jagged chessboard of gray limestone and dark pine forests, with the winding ribbon of the gully road disappearing into the northern mist. Below us, the estate was a hive of controlled, intense activity; vanguard soldiers were moving crates of ammunition, reinforcing the courtyard walls, and running tactical diagnostics on the perimeter sensors. But on the high cliffside pavilion, a different kind of preparation was underway–one that looked like a celebration, but felt entirely like a trap. "The dress is too light for this weather, Romy," Rowan’s deep voice rumbled behind me, cutting through the rush of the wind as he stepped onto the stone platform, his heavy hand coming down to rest on the small of my back. He had disca
Rowan's POVThe basement vault doors had barely finished sealing shut when the metal staircase leading down from the main garage level shook beneath the weight of approaching footsteps.I knew who it was before they appeared.The scent of wet mountain air reached me first. Cold rain. Diesel fuel. The sharp trace of iron and oil that clung to the heavy canvas jackets of men who had spent hours outside in the storm.Zaric and Maddox. They came through the doorway moments later, both carrying the exhaustion of the southern ridge on their faces. Their boots left streaks of mud across the concrete floor as they moved toward the iron table where Aaron's ancient Hunter records were still spread open.Zaric did not waste time explaining himself. He dropped a mud-covered satellite terminal beside the old leather cylinders, the impact making the parchment edges shift beneath the sudden weight.“We have a problem.” His voice w
RomyThe vault had never felt so small.The stone walls that had protected generations of Stormveil leaders now seemed to close around us, trapping the weight of thirteen years of unanswered questions inside the cold air. The smell of old parchment, iron, and the faint copper scent of preserved records filled my lungs as Aaron kept his finger pressed against the ancient Hunter codex.I stared at the pages in front of me.For most of my life, the night my family died existed only as pieces–a flash of orange light through the nursery window, and the sound of wood collapsing somewhere above me, my sister’s hands shaking as she covered my mouth before I could scream.I had spent thirteen years trying to put those pieces together. I had convinced myself that there had been a reason. A war. A territory dispute. A power struggle between families that ended with my family's blood spilled on the ground. But the pages sitting in front of me made everything worse, because there was nothing simp
Rowan's POVThe last notes of the cello were still hanging inside the glass conservatory when the oak doors opened behind us.I did not turn immediately.For a few more seconds, I kept my hand around Romy's waist and let the waltz finish. Her green dress brushed against my boots as we moved through the final steps, the morning light spilling through the glass roof and catching the red strands of her hair where they rested against my shoulder.It was the first peaceful morning we'd had since the timber mill–the first time I could hold her without wondering if an alarm would sound, a message would arrive, or someone would try to take her from me again.Then I heard footsteps–not the careful steps of servants, not the quiet movement of guards.Heavy. Urgent.Aaron.I turned my head slightly, my chin still resting against Romy's hair.He stood in the doorway with a leather document cylinder tucked beneath his arm. His face had lost all color, his expression carrying the kind of tension th
Romy's POVThe cedar wardrobe doors creaked slightly when I pulled them open with my right hand, my eyes moving over the rows of dark leather tunics and heavy trousers that filled most of my side. A few dresses and silk outfits had somehow found their way between them over the last few months, mostly because Rowan kept insisting that I needed clothes that were not designed for hiding knives.My left hand still throbbed beneath the wooden splint Maddox had tied around my thumb the night before, but the pain had settled enough that I could ignore it when I wanted to.I reached for a simple black wool shirt that would sit comfortably over the bandage and still allow me to strap my ceramic blade beneath the sleeve.“Leave the boring clothes alone, Romy.” Rowan's voice came from behind me, making me pause before I could reach the fabric.I turned and found him leaning against the doorway of the dressing room, alre
13 years agoRomy povHer chest was heaving with shallow, erratic breaths. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a rigid, unnatural smile, but her lips were trembling so violently she couldn't hide her terror.She kept her hand pressed tightly over my mouth, her wide eyes silently pleading wit
13 years ago.Romy’s POV“Heavens, Romy! You either pick that doll up or I swear, I'll rip its head off its poorly invested neck!” My mother screamed, filled with a fury I had come accustomed to over the years.I flinched, and the doll slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. One
Romy pov“Did… did she just reject him?”“Did she reject Alpha Rowan?”“Is she crazy?”“Wait… she’s the Alpha’s mate?”The frantic, horrified whispers of the crowd swept through the grand reception hall like wildfire.Hundreds of pairs of eyes darted between me and the towering Beast of Flames stan
Romy, 23. Present Day. “That dress,” Camellia noted, her polished finger pointing directly at my neck as I turned slightly in the full-length mirror. “It doesn't cover the tattoo.” I kept my eyes on the raven tattoo climbing the side of my neck. It was for Alina, the only person who had ever call







