MasukMillie-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?
Lihat lebih banyakMILLIE-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.MILLIE'S POVThe wheels of the private plane hit the tarmac with a definitive screech, a sound that felt like a gavel coming down on my time in Spain. I’d dozed for most of the flight, my body aching in ways I hadn't known possible.Shifting isn’t just a physical change; it’s also a spiritual exhaustion. Rylee was still new, a restless, silver-furred force of nature inside my mind, and every time I returned to human form, I felt like I’d been put through a professional-grade dehydrator.You’ll get stronger, Rylee’s voice echoed in the back of my head, sounding smug and powerful. We just need practice. Your skin is still learning how to stretch for me.Beside me, Leo was a whirlwind of energy, completely unfazed by the long flight. He was chattering a mile a minute to Vicente, pointing out the window at the sprawling American skyline. Behind us, the three Spanish elders—Mateo, Elena, and Diego—sat in a stoic triangle, their low Spanish murmurs a steady hum beneath the roar of the engi
ROY HUNTER’S POV"They've been gone for days," Vivian said, her pacing more frantic than usual. The sharp click of her heels against my office floorboards sounded like a countdown I didn't want to hear. "No ceremony date announced. No public appearances. The Alpha King just... vanished with his mate and half his inner circle. Does he really think he can just put the entire Pack Council on hold while he plays tourist?""Not vanished. Traveling." I leaned back in my leather chair, staring at the map pinned to my wall. I preferred the term maneuvering. Braham Gothan didn't do anything without a tactical purpose. "Will Reid's office filed a formal notice with the High Council stating that Millie-Rose Harvey-Gothan needed to 'attend to family matters' before the ceremony could proceed. It’s a legal stalling tactic, but a valid one under the Old Laws.""What family matters?" Vivian stopped, her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with that familiar, sharp irritation. "Her father's in a
MILLIE'S POVTwo days later, Vicente called us together after breakfast."He decidido," (I have decided,) he announced, "que iré a Estados Unidos contigo." (that I will go to America with you.) He looked at me. "Para presentarte formalmente a la manada de tu compañero. Para darles mi bendición como tu abuelo y como Beta de Silverpine Ridge." (To formally present you to your mate's pack. To give them my blessing as your grandfather and as Beta of Silverpine Ridge.)My heart leapt. "¿De verdad?" (Really?)"De verdad. Y traeré ancianos de la familia. Representación adecuada." (Really. And I will bring family elders. Proper representation.) He smiled. "No puedes enfrentarte a ese Consejo sola. Eres Oslo. Vienes con tu manada detrás de ti." (You cannot face that Council alone. You are Oslo. You come with your pack behind you.)"Cuando?" (When?) Braham asked."Mañana. Reservaremos vuelos hoy." (Tomorrow. We will book flights today.) Vicente looked at his wife. "Millie se quedará aquí para
MILLIE'S POVMy grandmother—Abuela Millie, as she insisted I call her—didn't let go of my hand for the rest of that first day.She led me through the pack house, showing me everything. "Esta era la habitación de tu madre." (This was your mother's room.) She opened a door to reveal a not-so-big bedroom, preserved exactly as Juana had left it twenty-eight years ago. A bed with a handmade quilt. Books in Spanish and English on shelves. A hairbrush still sitting on a dresser."She love to read," grandma said, switching to heavily accented English for my benefit. "Siempre con un libro. Incluso cuando se suponía que debía estar entrenando o ayudando con las tareas del paquete, la encontrábamos en un árbol en algún lugar, leyendo". (Always with a book. Even when she was supposed to be training or helping with pack duties, we would find her in a tree somewhere, reading.)I picked up one of the books—a worn copy of poetry. LA HISTORIA DE UNA CHICA VAGABUNDA. (THE TALE OF A WANDERING GIRL.) My
MILLIE'S POVWill approached us as we stood. "Millie? Are you okay?""I don't know," I said honestly. My voice sounded strange to my own ears—distant, disconnected. "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel right now.""There's no 'supposed to,'" he said gently. "Whatever you're feeling is valid. Thi
MILLIE'S POVThe courthouse steps seemed steeper than I remembered.Braham's hand was warm and steady in mine as we climbed them. Callie walked on my other side, her presence a silent comfort."You don't have to do this," Braham said for the third time this morning. "You can still walk away. Read t
RENAN'S POVI stared at my laptop screen, tabs open to five different jewelry websites, three proposal planning blogs, and a YouTube video titled "How to Propose: Expert Tips."This should not be this complicated.I'd fought in territorial disputes. I'd negotiated peace between hostile packs. I'd m
ROY’s POVThe drive home from the Council building was silent as death.I sat in the back seat of my father's car, Vivian beside me staring out the window with tears streaming down her face. Our father drove, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.No one spoke. No one dare






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