LOGINHe found me before the monsters did. I don't know if that makes him my salvation or just a more dangerous kind of predator. My name is Vaelis. I've had six other names before this one, four cities in three years, and one rule that has kept me breathing since I was sixteen years old. Don't get caught. I almost made it. Then Thalrion Bloodryn decided he wanted me, and men like Thalrion Bloodryn don't want things quietly. They don't ask. They don't negotiate. They arrange situations and they wait and they look at you with silver eyes across a crowded room like you were always going to end up exactly here, in his building, drinking his coffee, reading a file with your name on it that goes back further than you knew your own blood went. I am not a person to the men hunting me, I am the most valuable weapon on earth. Thalrion says he's different. The problem is... I believe him. The bigger problem is that believing him might get us both killed. Because Noctyros Malvane has been watching longer than either of us knew. And what he wants from my bloodline is something no sane person would allow. And the war that is coming for Thalrion's throne has my name written at the center of it in red. Owned By The Alpha King is a dark MM werewolf romance with explicit 18+ content, extreme power dynamics, possessive alpha energy, forced proximity, and a bond neither of them asked for and neither of them can survive without. If you like your alphas dangerous, your omegas unbreakable, and your romance so charged it keeps you unlocking chapters at two in the morning, this book was written for you.
View MoreSoren Ashveld is not what I expected.I don't know what I expected from the Alpha King's general, some version of the men at the door maybe, big and quiet and carved from something hard, but Soren walks into the room like someone who has never once taken himself seriously and has somehow survived everything anyway. He's tall, broadly built, with light brown hair that looks like he cut it himself and an expression that is currently doing something caught between professional assessment and very poorly concealed amusement.He looks at me.He looks at Thalrion.He looks back at me."Huh," he says."Soren," Thalrion says."I'm just saying." Soren drops into the chair across from me with the ease of someone who has been sitting in Thalrion's chairs his entire life. "I've been telling him for three years that the bond thread meant something and for three years he told me I was projecting." He looks at me with something warm and direct in his expression. "You look exactly like what I imagine
The folder is thicker than I expected.I take it back to my room because reading it in the kitchen with Thalrion's coffee smell everywhere and his thumb still warm on my memory is not a situation I am capable of being objective in. I sit cross legged on the bed with the morning light coming grey through the glass and I open it and I start from the beginning.The Nyther bloodline goes back six generations.Six generations of male Omegas, rare enough that the werewolf world considered them myth, and specific enough that someone thought they were worth documenting in detail. The file reads like a case study, cold and clinical, names and dates and biological notations that strip living people down to their components. I find my grandmother's name on page four. My mother's on page seven. My own on the last page, which has significantly more recent annotations than any of the others.I read it all.It takes an hour.When I close the folder, I sit with it in my lap and look at the ceiling an
I find him at six in the morning.Not intentionally. I was looking for coffee, or something that functioned like it, because sleep came in pieces and left early and I gave up fighting it around five. The building is quiet at this hour, all long corridors and low lighting, and I followed the smell of coffee like a desperate person, which I am, and ended up in a kitchen that is bigger than most apartments I have lived in.Thalrion is already there.He's at the counter with his back to me, shirt on but not buttoned all the way, and I stop in the doorway and take approximately two seconds to process the fact that the Alpha King has a morning, has coffee, has a version of himself that exists before the suit and the controlled authority and the silver gaze that strips everything down to its components.He looks different.Not less dangerous. Just differently dangerous, the way a fire looks different when it's low rather than high. Still burning. Just quieter about it.He doesn't turn around
I don't sleep.Not because the room isn't good, nope. It's actually the nicest room I've ever been in, which is its own kind of disorienting, all low light and floor to ceiling glass and sheets that feel like they've never met a discount rack in their life. Not because I'm uncomfortable either. But because Thalrion Bloodryn is somewhere in this building and my wolf knows exactly where.I can feel the direction of him like a pull in my sternum, faint but constant, the way you feel a sound more than hear it. My wolf has been tracking him through walls for the last hour without my permission, noting every shift, every time the distance changes, and I cannot turn it off no matter how hard I try.This is what nobody tells you about bonds.They don't ask.I get up and go to the window and look at the city spread out below, all light and indifferent movement, and I press my palm flat against the glass and try to think clearly. It's difficult. His scent is still in this room even though he l
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