LOGINShe ran from a monster, only to be caught by the shadow of something far worse. Hated. Hunted. Branded a murderer. Raziela is a rogue omega and a single mother, guarding a child whose secret could ignite empires. On the run for a crime she didn’t commit, she hides her scent, her power, and her past. But when she’s captured and auctioned like property, she lands in the hands of the most feared creature alive: the Lycan King. Dakor is ancient, merciless, and hollowed by grief. His heart died with his mate three centuries ago. Now he rules through fear and bloodshed and desires nothing… until her. Raziela should fear him… she does. But the longer she survives the cruelty of his court, the more the lines between prey and predator blur. Beneath the King’s darkness lies a deadly desire. And if she lets it consume her, she risks more than her soul, she risks the one thing she’s sworn to protect.
View MoreRaziela “Diane!” I called out, unable to keep the excitement from my voice.She looked up with a smile. “Well, you look considerably more cheerful than you did this morning. What’s gotten into you?”“Agnes is taking me to the city markets today,” I said, flicking my hair that had loosened from the bun I put it in, out of my eyes. “I can hardly believe it. I’ve only seen the city from the—” I caught myself just in time, my cheeks flaming as I realized what I had almost said.Diane raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on my slip. “That’s wonderful news. You deserve a bit of adventure after everything you’ve been through.”“Will you watch Enid for me while I’m gone?” I asked, though I already knew what her answer would be.“Of course I will. That little angel and I always have the best time together.” Her expression grew more serious. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there.”Something in her tone made me pause. “Careful of what?”Diane glanced around as if making sure we weren’t o
RazielaThe morning light streaming through the windows felt harsh against my tired eyes as I mechanically went through the motions of preparing breakfast in the kitchen. My hands moved with practiced efficiency, chopping vegetables, but my mind was elsewhere entirely, trapped in the memory of waking up in silk sheets that smelled faintly like steel. The King’s bed. I had fallen asleep in the King’s bed.Heat flooded my cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time since I had fled his chambers in the early hours of dawn. The memory of panic that had seized me when I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by his scent, his pillows, his space, still made my heart race. I had gathered my nightgown and practically sprinted back to my room, praying no one would see me emerging from the royal chambers at such an inappropriate hour.What had I been thinking? The rational part of my mind knew the answer, I hadn’t been thinking at all. Something inexplicable had drawn me to his door, some
DakorI had sent for one of my regular mistresses hours ago to meet me in the Red Room. Eleanor had undoubtedly been waiting, and while I no longer felt the desperate need that had driven me to summon her, I couldn’t leave her there all night. Guilt twisted in my gut as I realized I had left her in there for over an hour now. She would be positioned exactly as I had instructed. Naked, kneeling in the center of the bed, waiting for my pleasure. It was a familiar scene, one that had brought me satisfaction countless times before.But the thought of it now, brought no excitement.The walk to the Red Room felt longer than usual, each step taking me further from where I wanted to be. By the time I reached the familiar door, something dark and cold had settled over me like a cloak. The moment I stepped inside, I felt the familiar shift in demeanor. Here, in these rooms designed for pleasure and power, I became someone else entirely. The beast that Raziela somehow managed to soothe stirred
DakorThe sight of her sleeping against the balcony chair stirred something deep in my chest, something I hadn’t felt in centuries. Her face had relaxed into peaceful lines, her wild midnight curls spilling over her shoulder like dark silk. Even in sleep, she still looked ethereal, she looked impossibly young, impossibly innocent, and the sight of it made my throat tighten.A smile touched my lips despite myself. When was the last time I had smiled at something so simple? When was the last time anything had moved me to such… softness?I reached out, unable to resist brushing a wayward curl from her face. The contact sent electricity racing through my fingertips and I welcomed the intensity to burn through me. As my hands drew back, I caught sight of the mark on her neck. That damned brand that marked her as a rogue.My jaw clenched involuntarily. The sight of it never failed to stir something violent in my chest. I hated it, hated even more whatever story was behind it, because it we






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