LOGINHe was her enemy by blood. She was his salvation by fate. When Alpha heir Tyler Rogers finds a rogue-marked waitress in his territory, instinct tells him to turn her in. But his wolf howls for her—and Tyler doesn’t ignore his wolf. Stephanie Channer is dangerous, mysterious, and completely off-limits. But when sparks fly and secrets ignite, one forbidden touch sets off a chain reaction that threatens the pack, the throne, and everything they thought they knew. He’s ready to burn down his world to claim her. She’s the Flamekeeper fated to save it. Let the mating games begin.
View MoreStephanie POVI had once believed that some stories weren’t meant for people like me. I thought some lives were chosen, touched by fate, while the rest of us simply wandered, scraping together what little scraps of joy we could.I had believed my place was in the shadows—nameless, powerless, surviving day after day in that greasy diner, forever branded a rogue, forever dismissed.But standing at Tyler’s side, as the weight of a pack and a kingdom settled onto his broad shoulders, I knew better. Fate had always had its eye on me. And fate had carried me here, to this moment—where grief and glory met.Tyler’s hand found mine under the covers where we lay. His palm was rough and calloused, still tender from the burns. But when his fingers curled around mine, I felt complete.It was the kind of touch that steadied me when the ground felt like it might open up and swallow me whole. His father’s absence pressed heavily over the clearing, so thick it felt like the air itself could snap. And
Stephanie POVWe spent a good two hours in the Rosemont Hotel room 412.It was as if Tyler had always been Alpha. The way he spoke, the way he looked, the way he sat—everything about him radiated strength, leadership, confidence. I felt his strength as he discussed peace with Sirhan, who didn’t hide how impressed he was with the young Rogers, who had only been “crowned” less than three hours.“You’ll lead Crescent Ridge to greatness,” my mother beamed, her fingers still laced in mine where we lounged on the bed together. “But now you deserve rest. Order the Twelve to plan Grayson’s funeral while you take a grieving period.”Wolves had very specific rituals when it came to honoring the dead. Having Tyler take a break would bother the Twelve, who would want to take immediate action, but Marcus was well enough to coordinate anything they needed to handle.And now, he would be directed by my mate, not fighting him.Sirhan clapped Tyler on the shoulder, and something about it made Tyler re
Stephanie POVGrayson Rogers was dead. Tyler was made Alpha on the spot without the full ceremony. I saw my mother. My mother was alive.And all that happened in less than an hour.It was the definition of whiplash.“Go,” Tyler—the Alpha of Crescent Ridge pack—told me. But I didn’t want to go.But I really wanted to go.My mate needed me. The mate bond was thrumming, buzzing like electricity through a wire. Both of us were too overwhelmed to know what to do, our emotions ricocheting up and down and mingling in clashes, and we were processing our own shit while feeling each other’s, and it was all so much and—Holy fuck.Legally, I was Luna.Like I was outside of my body, I looked at the Twelve. Judging by their looks and mutters, they were well aware of that fact. A rogue was Luna, and that was the first time ever in the history of wolf packs. If my life wasn’t in danger before, it sure was now.That was a later problem. One thing at a fucking time. Step one: find Maren Fenwick-Cha
Tyler POVI was, to say the bare minimum, not happy about Harlon Channer’s appearance there. I wasn’t mad that Kellen invited Shiloh. It was a pleasant surprise, and it made Steph so happy that it flooded the mate bond. I also wasn’t mad at Shiloh. I just straight-up hated the dude.He treated my mate like shit for half her life, made her miserable, stole her money, forced her to buy alcohol—“Tyler.”I turned to Steph, my expression sharper than I intended, having broken my murderous glare on Harlon from across Amaris’s living room. The bastard was sulkily eating a bowl of leftover stew Amaris had provided, barely looking up. No one was treating him well, that was for sure. Amaris had shoved his bowl at him, almost spilling it. Shiloh, practically sitting on Kellen’s lap as they chattered away, ignored him. Apparently, she’d given him an earful on the drive over. Kellen kept stealing glances, making sure he was not going to try any funny shit.Steph and I remained cuddled close, my






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