Se connecterThey said Omegas were born to kneel. Elowyn Froste decided to run. In a kingdom ruled by scent and bloodlines, nineteen-year-old Elowyn escapes the claws of an Alpha who bought her life. To survive, she cuts her hair, binds her chest, and enters Ashmoore Academy as a boy—Elyan, a fragile cadet in a world built for beasts. Every day is a fight to hide what she is. Every night, her scent potion fades a little faster. Then, there's Baron Ortega—the Alpha prince of RuthValis, her room mate and her temptation. Cold. Lethal. Impossible to ignore. His instincts call her prey, but something in her scent calls him home. As the Academy spirals into chaos and war rises beyond its walls, Elowyn’s lies unravel one by one. Old gods stir, rebels awaken, and a prophecy whispers of an Omega hybrid who can shatter every Alpha’s throne. And Baron… might be the key to her undoing. In a world where scent means power and love means ruin, Elowyn must choose: Love Baron Ortega, confess and burn the world or hide and watch the world burn.
Voir plus🌺🥀🌷🌸❇️❇️🌷🌷🌹🌹🌹🌹💮💠💐💐🏵️A grand statue stood in the heart of RuthValis, carved with reverence and love, a monument to the woman who had shaped destinies long before any battle had been fought. Tialaina Morris, The Tia of the Lost — Ariya’s true name — was etched upon the base, a reminder of courage, sacrifice, and the legacy she had entrusted to her daughter. Flowers of every hue surrounded the pedestal, laid by citizens, soldiers, and witches alike, a quiet testament that her memory would endure forever.Elowyn and Baron stood side by side, facing the gathered people, their hands intertwined, faces calm in the serenity of a world finally at peace. Around them, the citizens whispered prayers, bowed in respect, and offered quiet smiles. They all stood together and beheld the solidifying moment when the blue moon showed it's last glow before disappearing behind the clouds.The Emberglass Academy army, disciplined and solemn, paid their last respects before turning to j
SIX MONTHS LATERThe feast was a dazzling affair, the large ceremonial tent of RuthValis adorned with flowers, silks, and lanterns that shimmered like captured stars. Musicians played soft, lilting melodies as the people of the wereworld gathered, their joy tempered by the solemn remembrance of battles fought and lives lost.At the heart of it all, Baron and Elowyn stood together beneath a canopy of white and gold. Their hands were intertwined, fingers locked as if they had never been apart. The king pronounced their vows with a voice steady yet warm, and as the final words were spoken, Baron leaned forward and pressed his lips to Elowyn's. It was a kiss full of promise and passion, one that carried every whispered hope, every trial endured, and every stolen moment of tenderness between them. The hall erupted in cheers, clapping, and joyous cries.Later, the couple moved to the center of the dance floor. Soft music played, and they swayed together, bodies close, sharing quiet la
There were no celebrations. No cries of relief.Just orders.Scouts were sent out.Messengers rushed in and out of the war chamber.A cold council formed at the king's table-Baron, generals, veilbound witches, pack leaders. They spoke in low voices about the broken buildings, the fallen towers, the danger of poisoned spells left in the streets.Outside, the city was swept clean as fast as possible. Blood, ash, and shattered stone were pushed aside by lines of workers. They wanted the people to look outside and see a city standing-not a graveyard. Fear was a disease. If it settled, RuthValis would crumble.At the far end of the square, the remaining witches from Haspan's forces-weak, burned out, shaking-were piled together and burned. The Veilbound witches circled them, raising the shield of light. No escape. No chance to regroup.Families peeked from the shelter gates, but soldiers held them back."Only middle-aged," they repeated.The old were too fragile.The young had seen enou
As Metella burst out of the portal into RuthValis, she stopped dead.All around her was the heap of weakened witches, drained by the battle, their spells flickering like dying embers. The air hummed with leftover magic.Across the smoke-stained sky, Mia and Elowyn catch sight of her.Metella screamed-a mix of fury and grief-and launched forward, ready to tear through anyone in her way.But Elowyn's hand lifted.Her voice was soft but sharp with power."WELCOME TO YOUR DEATH, METELLA."Metella's body seized-then whips backward, slamming straight into the mound of defeated witches. She tumbled and landed hard, tangled with the very witches she'd sworn to be above.Mia and Elowyn descended from the broom, boots touching the cracked stones. Their gowns swirl with wind and leftover magic, their wolf eyes still faintly glowing.Baron howled and his wolves answered, bodies shimmering and cracking back into their human forms.All around them, the battle's survivors staggered over.Baron limpe






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