Never Again His Stray

WINIFRED HAWTHORNE POV"Do you really believe he will mistake you for her when the blood moon rises?"Winifred Hawthorne grips the edge of the stone basin, staring at her twin sister’s reflection in the water. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribs. She does not look away from Dorothea Whitcombe. They share the exact same face, the exact same silver-grey eyes, but Dorothea wears silk robes while Winifred wears the plain linen of a pack outcast."He has to," Dorothea whispers, her lips trembling as she adjusts the crimson mantle over Winifred’s shoulders. "The Whitcombe pack owes the Alpha a Luna vow tonight. If I do not present a bride at the gathering, Alpha Edmund will slaughter our entire council. You have to take my place, Winifred. You owe our bloodline this much.""I do not owe the Whitcombe pack anything," Winifred says, her throat tight with a sudden surge of heat. "You threw me to the orphaned rogue pack the moment we were born. You hid me away like a shame.""Mother and Fa

WINIFRED HAWTHORNE POV"Should we really let that filthy outcast sleep under our roof another night?"Winifred Hawthorne lies frozen on the thin, dirt-stained mattress inside the attic servant room of the Whitcombe estate. Every breath tears through her shattered spine, her body numb from the brutal beating Alpha Ambrose had inflicted earlier that day. Her silver-grey eyes trace the cracked wooden ceiling beams as exhaustion drags her mind down into a feverish, dark trance.In her fevered mind, memory twists into a vivid nightmare of twelve years ago.She was only ten years old, a malnourished outcast wandering near the abandoned rogue border territory beyond the Hawthorne Cottage. The winter frost bit through her thin linen rags. She had stumbled across a wounded young wolf lying dying in the snow, his pitch-black fur matted with frozen blood and dark rogue venom.His chest had barely moved. She had called out to him in panic, trying to rouse his spirit, but his eyes remained closed.

WINIFRED HAWTHORNE POVAlpha Edmund Ravenscroft sneers down at Winifred Hawthorne, his lethal black eyes cutting through the dim interior of the car like a blade. He releases her bruised throat, his calloused fingers locking around her chin instead, tilting her face up to force her silver gaze into his.The heavy scent of aged oak, rain, and raw male wolf-musk fills the small space."What game are you playing, wild hound?" Edmund growls, his voice a low rumble.Winifred swallows past the raw burn in her chest, clinging to the desperate lie that might save her life. "I put my blood-mark on the substitute Luna agreement. As long as you do not sign a new bond with Dorothea, my wolf belongs to you."Edmund shoves her head back against the headrest, his expression twisting into dark disgust. He pulls the vehicle into gear without another word and tore down the foggy roads toward the mountain manor.He drags her into the silent, towering halls of the Ravenscroft Manor. Before Winifred can e