Maeve: Marked By Blood, Chosen By Fate.

Maeve. The fifth rejection burned worse than the first, and still, the bond refused to break. “I, Johan Sullivan, Alpha of the Blue Moon pack, reject you as my mate.” The words cracked through the air like a whip, but the pain that followed was sharper. It cut into my veins, set my nerves ablaze until bile clawed up my throat. I swallowed it down with the same grit I swallowed everything else. If I threw up, I’d only earn myself another floor to scrub. The bond should have snapped, but instead it coiled tighter. Wilder. Hungrier. I felt him—his breath, his wolf—like it had all just begun again. Johan’s mouth thinned into a line, his frown deepening. He turned sharply to his beta. “Why is this happening?” Roy hesitated. “Alpha… it’s the fifth time.” His disbelief was carved into every word. “I never thought something like this was possible.” Neither had I. “Maybe…” Roy tried, voice low, “maybe you should accept her.” “Moon goddess forbid it,” Johan spat. His gaze snapped to m

Maeve. Strength surged through me like lightning in bone, cold, sharp, alive. My back arched and a gasp ripped free. “Run.” The voice wasn’t mine. It pulsed wildly inside my skull, loud and urgent. “Run, Maeve. Run. Do not stop.” My lips trembled. “Who… who is that?” But before I could think, my body obeyed. My legs kicked the ground, my feet raw and bloody. I stumbled, then found myself sprinting into the forest. The night blurred. Wind screamed in my ears. My breath tore through me like glass. “Faster,” the voice urged. “I can’t,” I whispered, choking on blood. “I can’t.” My feet pounded the earth, slipping on roots, scraping against stone. Thorns tore at my calves. Bark slashed my arms. “Go, Maeve. You are not safe. Not yet.” Tears burned my eyes. My lungs were fire, my ribs knives. “I am trying. I swear I am trying.” I leapt over a fallen log, crashed through thick brush. My toes split open on jagged rock. Every step hurt. Every breath broke. But I did not stop. I cou

Maeve. The silence in the cottage wasn’t silence at all—it was suffocation. Heavy. Cold. Like death itself had walked in and made itself at home. Carson stood over the healer like a wolf circling prey, his shadow stretching across her frail body. The firelight flickered against the hard planes of his face, throwing him in and out of darkness. His eyes never blinked. “You know the law,” he said at last, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the room. “You broke it. Willingly.” The healer’s shawl quivered where it wrapped around her thin shoulders, but she didn’t cower. Her chin lifted, steady, almost stubborn. My chest squeezed so tight I thought my ribs might snap. My heartbeat was wild, loud, as if the whole room could hear it. This was my fault—my presence, my lies. She saved me, and now she would die for it. The healer’s voice cracked when she answered. “She was dying, Alpha. What kind of healer turns away from death?” Carson’s jaw flexed. “The kind who values her pac

Maeve. The clang of the dungeon gates made my stomach twist. I shot to my feet, my voice breaking before I could control it. “W-What’s happening?” Three guards marched in, their boots cracking against the stone like a drumbeat of doom. Their steps were sharp, rigid, each one daring me to move. They didn’t answer me. Didn’t even look at me. Instead, they lined up in front of my cell, eyes pinned not on me but on the tiny barred window above. The sliver of sunlight that bled through suddenly felt like a spotlight I couldn’t escape. My throat tightened. “Why are you here? What is happening?!” Nothing. Just their steady breathing and that fixed stare. I opened my mouth again to push harder—but froze when another figure appeared behind them. A man. Blonde. Cold eyes. He filled the room with silence more crushing than the dungeon walls themselves. My voice came out small, brittle. “Am I… am I going to die today?” He didn’t answer. His gaze slid over me like I was nothing more th

Carson. The knock on the door was soft but insistent. Raymond stepped inside, eyes flicking toward the hallway as if she—Maeve—were still lingering in every corner of the room. “There’s something about her…” he said, voice low, tense. His gaze finally settled on me. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I just can’t trust her. That innocent vibe? Feels off.” I didn’t move, though a slow, deliberate tension curled through my chest. The air itself seemed to shift, charged, almost electric. Raymond’s presence brushed against me, and I felt the wolf stir beneath my skin, cautious, curious, hungry. “Off?” I asked, arching a brow. “Yeah,” he said, jaw tight. “Don’t you sense it?” Normally, Raymond’s instincts didn’t matter to me—at least not enough to act on them. But he was my Beta, my shadow, the one pack member whose gut I couldn’t ignore. And right now, that edge in his tone made me pause. “If that’s how you feel,” I said slowly, rising from the cold iron throne that always felt more