LOGINMillie-Rose lost everything she’d worked for since the age of four in a single day; her career, her reputation, and the life she was about to marry into, when a test revealed she was pregnant… despite never being touched all her life.Scandal followed. Betrayal cut deep. And running became her only chance at survival.But there’s one truth she can’t outrun: the child she carries belongs to Alpha Braham, a werewolf king with power, patience, and a claim she never agreed to.She escaped the world.She rebuilt her life.But how will she escape him?
View MoreMILLIE-ROSE’S POV
There was a knot in my stomach. A gnawing, ominous anxiety. The more I scrolled through the comments, the tighter it pulled. I was almost gasping in the confinement of my car, the tinted windows doing nothing to stop the feeling of claustrophobia creeping up my spine. “Wow, congratulations to her.” “She's a pretty actress. I've been a fan of hers since she was little. It's so great seeing her getting married.” “But isn't she too young? Congratulations anyway.” I kept scrolling, searching for the comment that had triggered this unease but nothing stood out. They were all the usual suspects. Well-wishers. Haters. Keyboard warriors dissecting every inch of my public life like they paid rent in it. With a frustrated sigh, I locked my phone and dropped it into my purse like it had personally offended me. I leaned back in the leather seat and took a deep breath. Maybe that would help. It didn’t. The knot stayed, unmoved and unbothered. What the hell was wrong with me? Was this... wedding jitters? Was it normal to feel this twisted up inside the day before your wedding? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been married before. I never had a mother to guide me through moments like these. She died when I was five. Her absence was a void I had long stopped trying to fill. My stepmother? Yeah, asking her about “wedding nerves” would earn me an eye-roll and probably an insult or three. We weren’t exactly swapping mother-daughter advice. So how was I supposed to know if this feeling was normal? “We're here, Ma'am,” the driver said as the car rolled to a stop. “Oh,” I murmured, glancing out the tinted window. The towering glass structure of my modeling agency loomed ahead, crisp and intimidating under the mid-morning sun. Callie had sent my schedule already, two photoshoots: Vogue and Elle, a lunch meeting with the directors of my upcoming movie role, and a bachelorette party later tonight. And tomorrow? I was supposed to become one with Silas Butt. Everything should feel... perfect. But my chest was tight. My palms, clammy. I was nauseous. A gnawing anxiety that clung to me like perfume I didn’t remember spraying. Was it my dress? An allergic reaction? What do I even blame this on? “Ma’am?” The driver gently called again, likely noticing how zoned out I was. “Yes, thank you,” I replied, shaking off the fog in my head as I grabbed my purse and stepped out. I put on the most collected expression I could muster, smoothing out invisible creases on my blouse. Showbiz rule 101: keep it cute even when you’re dying inside. “Good morning, Ma’am. Congratulations on your wedding tomorrow!” one of the security guards greeted me with a wide grin. “Thank you. Good morning,” I replied, smiling politely as I passed through the lobby. It wasn't just the guards, nearly everyone in the building offered a wave, a smile, a compliment about my wedding. I responded to each of them like clockwork, but I only truly breathed when I stepped into the solitude of the elevator. There, I finally let myself close my eyes and pull in deeper, longer breaths. The elevator dinged, and I stepped out, heading toward my changing room. But something tugged at my attention…Mr. Dan's office was just a few steps away. I figured I’d say a quick hello before getting ready. Except as I approached, voices filtered through the half-closed door. The words made me slow to a stop. “Oh, she's so pathetic. I mean, she’s got all this glam and yet zero brain,” came a giggle. That was Roe. One of the other models. One of the loudest ones. “I know, right?” Daisy chimed in. “Like why would she get married now? She’s going to tank her whole career. Just watch. She’s too dumb to see it.” My gut twisted tighter. Ah. Another roast session. These girls never missed an opportunity to gather like mean witches and rip me apart for sport. I’d known about their little gossip circles for years. And yet, I never confronted them. Why give them the satisfaction? But then I heard another voice… one that sent a chill down my spine. “All that beauty gone to waste,” Mr. Dan scoffed. What? Mr Dan? Since when did he become part of the clique? “I wish someone would warn her,” he added mockingly. “The poor girl. She’s dealing with trash.” A tightness formed in my chest. Warn me? Warn me about what? And how am I dealing with trash? I was struggling with the thought of barging in to ask him what they should warn me about and what trash had to do with me when someone else spoke up. “Why should we warn her?” Roe hissed. “She walks around like she's better than everyone. Let her find out the hard way.” “She’s got nothing but her pretty face. No mother, a greedy father who uses her, a stepsister from hell… and a fiancé…” My breath hitched. A fiancé? Silas? Why was he suddenly on this ugly list? He’s the only one who’s ever shown me true kindness. He’s patient. Gentle. Nothing like the family I was cursed with. So why was he being dragged into this? “…a fiancé who doesn’t love her,” Mr. Dan finished. The words slammed into me like a truck. They weren’t done. But I was already crumbling. “If only she knew he’s only marrying her for the inheritance,” Roe whispered. “What inheritance?” Daisy gasped. “You don’t know? Her late mother left a fortune behind. She can’t touch it until she gets married or turns twenty-five. No one talks about it, but it’s true…” Gasps echoed. My blood ran cold. Enough. I staggered away from the door, my legs shaky, my thoughts spinning. My instincts dragged me to the elevator, then out the building entirely. I barely noticed the greetings or questions thrown my way. I had only one thought in my head Silas. He had to explain this. My inheritance was a secret. Barely anyone knew. So how did those hyenas find out? What did they mean he didn’t love me? My heart pounded like war drums. My hands trembled. I was a breath away from throwing up. But I held it all in. I needed answers. And I needed them now. The driver pulled up the car just in time, and I climbed in wordlessly. Thirty minutes later, I was at Silas’s door. It was locked…but I had a key. My hands trembled as I pushed it into the lock and turned it open. “Silas, I…” My voice faltered. Everything inside me collapsed at the scene before me. Moans filled the air like sirens. My steps slowed, paralyzed. My mouth fell open. My phone dropped to the floor with a loud crack. In front of me, wrapped in each other like lovers in a bad romance novel, were Silas… …and my stepsister. Martha.CALLIE’S POV"Millie, if Renan tries to suggest military-gray tablecloths one more time, I am going to lose my absolute mind!"I practically yelled the words into the open space of the executive living room, throwing my hands up in total, unadulterated frustration. I was sitting cross-legged right in the center of the floor, completely marooned inside a chaotic, sprawling sea of hundreds of silk fabric swatches, glossy floral catalogs, and thick bridal magazines. Planning a wedding for the fourth of April was supposed to be a beautiful, romantic dream, but trying to extract a single aesthetic opinion from a man whose entire life had been dictated by tactical utility and defensive protocols was driving me to the absolute brink of insanity.Millie burst out laughing, the sound bright, musical, and completely unbothered by my dramatic meltdown. She walked into the room carrying a silver tray loaded with glasses of fresh, ice-cold fruit juices, navigating the minefield of paper and silk
SILAS’S POVThe heavy, suffocating scent of antiseptic, rubbing alcohol, and industrial floor cleaner always had a way of turning my stomach, but today it felt like it was actively choking me. I stood frozen in the middle of the pale green corridor, the harsh, buzzing glare of overhead fluorescent lights reflecting off the white linoleum tiles like a mockery of daylight. Down the hall, the constant beep of cardiac monitors drifted out of the secure nursery doors, a sound that had been the soundtrack to my nightmares for sixty plus days.I stared at the heavy glass partition of the neonatal intensive care unit, my hands trembling so violently that the metal zipper of my jacket clinked against itself in a frantic, irregular rhythm. I tried to swallow, but my throat was completely dry. My face felt entirely devoid of color, my eyes hollowed out by two solid months of sleeplessness, terror, and a desperate, suffocating anxiety that had kept me trapped in a living hell.I was just a man d
MILLIE’S POVThe ground beneath the executive pavilion didn't just vibrate; it hummed with the collective, rhythmic thud of thousands of boots. Long before I even opened my eyes, the sheer, primal weight of the pack’s presence had penetrated the thick timber walls of our home. There were no mists today. No lingering shadows of the courtroom, no phantom scents of blood from the execution blocks, and no suffocating dread. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the mountain air tasted entirely clean.Today was the reckoning of a different kind—the public sealing of a crown that had been bought with months of survival, grief, and fire.Because of the horrific chaos orchestrated by Vivian and Roy, Braham and I had only ever known the quiet, visceral reality of the pack marking. We had claimed each other in the dark, bound by blood and survival while the territory bled around us. The grand, public celebration of our rule had been nothing but a distant luxury delayed by war. Unt
MILLIE’S POV We were gathered in the private living room, the massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows showing a perfectly clear, peaceful evening sky over the North American territory. The fireplace crackled softly in the corner, throwing a warm, golden glow across the room, but the true warmth came from the easy laughter bouncing off the timber walls. We had spent the last hour talking about Grandpa Vicente. The room was full of smiles as we shared stories of his sharp, unyielding wit and his commanding presence. Even though his jet had only departed for Spain a short while ago, we were all openly admitting how much we already missed the old alpha. He had been the ultimate shield for this family, and his absence left a noticeable stillness in the house. "I still can't believe how he completely handled those federal marshals," Gabriel chuckled from his armchair, shaking his head in pure admiration. "The man didn't even blink." "He's a king for a reason," Braham responded, his de
MILLIE'S POVThe first headline appeared Wednesday morning, less than twenty-four hours after our wedding."HEARTLESS HEIRESS: Millie-Rose Harvey Marries While Half-Sister Fights for Life in Hospital"I stared at my laptop screen, coffee growing cold in my hand. Below the headline was a photo—grain
MILLIE’S POV The correctional facility looked even grimmer than the last time I'd visited. Gray walls, razor wire, the stale smell of institutional hopelessness. But this time, I wasn't here seeking answers about my heritage.I was here to deliver consequences.Braham walked beside me through secu
BRAHAM’S POVThe Council chamber was a cathedral of judgment, and today, I was the one presiding over the trial of our future. As I stood before the heavy oak doors, I could feel the vibrations of a hundred restless wolves through the stone beneath my boots. The air was thick with the scent of pre
MILLIE’S POVThe morning of January 25th tasted like iron and cold rain.I stood in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom, the silence of the house pressing against my ears. I smoothed the lapels of my charcoal-grey power suit, a garment that felt more like a suit of armor than clothing.






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