MasukSleep didn’t come easily.Even after the pain in my neck faded, my mind refused to quiet. Every time my eyes closed, memories forced their way back in. The courtyard. Xander’s voice rejecting me in front of everyone. The cold look in his eyes the morning after the Blood Moon.Then Tristan’s teeth sinking into my neck.Then the doctor’s words.Pregnant.The word still felt unreal inside my head.I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling while the candles burned lower along the stone walls. The room had grown quiet, but it wasn’t peaceful quiet.It was the kind of silence that came from two predators trying very hard not to attack each other.Tristan remained seated near the bed, his arms folded loosely across his chest. His posture looked relaxed, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.Across the room, Xander stood with his back against the wall, watching everything.Watching Tristan.Watching me.Watching the space between us.No one had spoken for nearly an hour.I finally coul
The pain dulled. Like a storm that had moved a few miles away but still rattled the windows. I drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around me rising and falling in blurred fragments of voices, scents, and warmth. When I opened my eyes again, the tower room was dim. Night had fully fallen. Candles flickered along the stone walls, their light soft and uneven. For a moment I didn’t remember where I was. The last clear memory was collapsing on the floor. Then the scent reached me. Two scents. Winter pine and dark chocolate. Storm clouds and steel. My body tensed instantly. My eyes widened as the memories rushed back. Xander. Tristan. The fight. The pregnancy. The marks. I tried to sit up. A sharp pain shot through my neck. “Don’t move.” The deep voice came from my right. Tristan. I turned my head slowly. He was sitting beside the bed, elbows resting on his knees, watching me with an intensity that made my chest tighten. His dark shirt was still torn from
The first thing I felt was fire. Not the kind that warms your skin. Not the comforting heat of a hearth on a winter night. This fire lived inside my bones. It clawed through my veins like molten metal, burning every nerve it touched. I couldn’t breathe. My fingers curled into the rough stone floor of the tower as another wave of pain crashed through me. It began in my neck where Tristan’s mark throbbed violently, then spread downward into my chest where the ghost of Xander’s rejection still lived. Two forces. Two Alphas. Fighting inside my body. I screamed again. The sound tore from my throat before I could stop it. Somewhere far below, I heard shouting. Heavy footsteps thundered up the spiral staircase leading to the tower. The iron door rattled violently as someone slammed against it. “Move!” Xander’s voice roared. Metal shrieked. The door burst open with a crash. Through the haze of pain I saw two figures rush into the room. One smelled like winter pine and rage. The o
The courtyard fell into a silence so deep it felt unnatural.Even the wind seemed to hesitate.Every wolf present had heard Tristan’s words.Pregnant.The word hung in the air like a blade waiting to fall.Xander’s golden eyes slowly lifted toward the tower window again, locking onto the faint silhouette behind the bars.My silhouette.For a moment the terrifying Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack did not look angry.He looked stunned.Then his expression hardened into something far more dangerous.Possession.His wolf surged so violently beneath his skin that the air around him trembled.“You’re lying,” Xander said quietly.But his voice lacked conviction.Tristan stood in the middle of the ruined courtyard like a man who had already decided he was ready to die tonight.His dark coat was torn. Blood stained his hands and sleeves, though it wasn’t clear whose blood it was.His gaze remained fixed on the tower.On me.“Ask your pack doctor,” Tristan replied calmly. “Or better yet, smell her
Tricia’s POV Pain. It wasn’t the dull ache of a bruise or the sting of a slap. It was a war inside my veins. My neck felt like it was being branded by a hot iron over and over again. I groaned, my eyes fluttering open to a ceiling that wasn't mine. The room was too large, the air too heavy with the scent of ozone and expensive leather. "Careful, Tricia," a deep voice rumbled. I bolted upright, my head spinning. Tristan was standing by the window, his silhouette dark and imposing. Behind him, a man in a white coat was packing a medical bag, looking at me with pity. "Where am I?" I gasped, clutching the silk sheets to my chest. My hand brushed my neck, and I hissed. The skin was raised and weeping. "What did you do to me?" "I saved you from a gutter," Tristan said, walking toward the bed. "And I marked you. You’re in the Shadow Pack manor." "Shadow Pack?" The blood drained from my face. "Tristan, no. I have to go. Xander... if he finds out I’m here..." "Xander rejected you!" Tri
Tristan’s POV My skin was crawling. Every muscle in my body felt like it was being pulled tight by a violin string ready to snap. I’d been holed up in this human town for three days, trying to sweat out a rut that felt more like a death sentence. The suppressant pills were useless. My wolf was a rabid beast inside my skull, screaming for a mate, for blood, for anything to quiet the fire in my veins. I sat at the far end of the bar, my hood pulled low. The smell of cheap beer and grease usually kept my senses dull, but then the door opened. A scent hit me. It wasn't just good. It was a biological wrecking ball. Jasmine, rain, and the unmistakable, heartbreaking scent of a female wolf in distress. I turned my head slowly. She was small, drenched in some kind of sticky liquid, and her eyes were so swollen from crying she could barely see. She looked like she’d been through a war. Mine, my wolf hissed, the word vibrating in my marrow. No, I told him, gripping the edge of the bar unt







