LOGINI settled back onto my throne, satisfaction coursing through my veins like fine wine. Alexander's blood still warmed my hand beneath the cloth I used to wipe it clean. Ares bounded through our shared consciousness, jubilant at the first taste of justice delivered for our mate. ‘One down,’ he crowed, bloodlust barely sated. ‘The parents next. They hurt her worst.’ He was right, of course. The physical violations Alexander had committed were severe, but the emotional wounds Marcus and Elena had
When Amelia’s presence closed on the other side of the bond, Ares howled.Not aloud. The sound existed entirely in the space behind my sternum, the internal register he used when something happened that he could not act on. I had felt her concern in the half-second before she shut the connection, a sharp bright edge of it that she hadn’t fully managed to contain, and the words she had sent before closing it sat in the front of my mind with the weight of things said because you are not certain there will be another opportunity.I turned it into focus, the way Ares always did with things he couldn’t change. I put the connection in a place I could access later and gave my attention back to the western forest, where there was enough in front of me to require all of it.The trees here were different from the eastern forest - older, closer together, the canopy too thick for moonlight to come through in any useful way. We were fighting by scent and sound and the occasional brea
A mile of forest is a different kettle of fish entirely when you have four paws and the trees were lit blood-red.The canopy caught the moon’s colour and threw it back in fragments, and the world smelled of pine and cold earth and the sharp, entirely distinct scent of wolves who hadn’t come here with any ambiguity about their intentions. Athena knew the difference between pack wolves and rogues the way she knew the difference between rain and seawater: not identical, not even close, and worth noticing immediately.We knew before we saw them.Five rogues materialised from the dark between two ancient pines, mid-stride and committed, and Athena was already moving before the conscious part of me had processed the shape of them. That was the thing I had been learning to trust: she didn’t think in those first seconds. She reacted, copper and fast and utterly sure of herself, and what came after was not violence so much as purpose moving through a body built for exactly this.
The hour had a unique quality to it. Not slow, not really, but loaded.The way time gets when you are tracking too many things at once and your mind starts filing each piece against the others, building a picture you don’t want to see finished. Three more contacts to the south. Two to the west. Each one dealt with, each one a door closed. I stood at the window and watched the city and counted what I knew and what I didn’t.The reports kept coming. Dominic updated the board in the precise, unhurried script he used for intelligence documents. Nico managed the mental traffic with the focused quiet of a man running multiple conversations through a mental switchboard. Amelia sat with the stillness of someone whose stillness was active, cataloguing everything, her eyes moving between the board and the window and the map with the rhythm of a mind already three steps ahead.She had the colour in her cheeks that meant she was managing something, the pale determination that had replaced the pal
The moon had not yet risen, but we could all feel it coming.Two hours out, and the air in the office had taken on a density that had nothing to do with the fire in the grate or the number of people in the room. Nico stood at the whiteboard with his arms folded across his chest, studying the map the way a man looks at something he has memorised and is looking at anyway. Dominic sat at the corner of the desk with the stillness of someone who had spent decades waiting for bad news to arrive and had made peace with the waiting.Lukas stood at the window. He had been standing there for the best part of twenty minutes, watching the city below with his hands clasped behind his back, and the set of his shoulders told me more than his face did.I sat in the chair nearest the desk and tried to keep my mind on the open channels rather than the clock.The mind-link traffic had been running all day. Not the ordinary flow of a palace at work - this was tighter, more targeted, the constant quiet dr
Sleep had been a polite fiction I’d maintained until around three in the morning, and a losing battle from there.I lay in the dark with my eyes open and the ceiling doing nothing useful above me, listening to the palace at its quietest hour. The building had its own language in the small hours: the breath of the ventilation, the distant step of a guard changing shift, the way stone carried sound differently when there was no ambient noise left to absorb it. I had learned that language over weeks of lying awake beside Lukas, cataloguing the hours before dawn with the thoroughness of a former servant who had never quite learned to trust sleep completely.The space beside me had been empty for a while. Long enough for the sheets to cool on his side. Long enough for me to register his absence without being certain when it happened, which meant I had drifted off at some point and woken gradually rather than suddenly. I lay there another ten minutes, honest with myself, then admitted that
I saw her sit down before I fully registered the movement. That was the thing about watching someone recover from something that had nearly killed them. Your body developed its own early warning system, cataloguing every small deviation from normal with a thoroughness that had nothing to do with choice.She sat carefully, the way she had for the past few days. Economical. Controlled. Managing something that was taking more of her attention than she wanted to admit. Her hand went to her stomach. She probably did not notice she had done it.“Do you still feel unwell?” I asked.She looked up from the map, and I caught the flicker of calculation in her expression: the half-second assessment of whether to deflect. “A bit,” she said, which from Amelia translated to considerably more than that. We both knew it.“Perhaps you should go back to bed,” I said, and knew even as the words formed that they were a mistake.She t
I dropped to the bed beside her, my chest heaving with exertion. Even after decades as Alpha King, the intensity of mating with my true match left me breathless. Amelia lay beside me, her copper hair spread across my pillows like flame, her skin flushed with satisfaction. Mine. The word echoed th
I strode through the palace corridors, my footsteps echoing against marble as servants and guards flattened themselves against walls in my wake. The rage that had simmered since Amelia mentioned her public whipping threatened to boil over with each step. This Gamma Julian—this dog who had d
I strode through the palace corridors, Amelia's unconscious form cradled against my chest, my fury a living thing barely contained beneath my skin. Each heartbeat pounded with the same rhythm as Ares's enraged mantra:‘Mine. Hurt. Kill. Protect.’Guards flattened themselves against walls as I passe
The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with the copper-haired girl who fate had cruelly designated as my mate. She sat across from me, her shoulders hunched beneath the woolen blanket, though her eyes never left mine. The mate bond pulsed between us, new and raw, a connection neither o







