Silent Howls

Liora’s P.O.V. Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound. I knew that man was studying me, and when I faced him, the frown on his cold face didn’t look right. He suddenly got up, and I threw myself back against the door, my heart pounding. “Who are you?” His deep voice rumbled through the room as he rose from his chair with the grace only predators carried. I swallowed hard, my hands tightening in the folds of my apron. My throat ached with the words I couldn’t speak as I lifted my hand slowly and signed. “I am a pack’s maid, just serving the wine.” Pointing at my maid’s uniform and wine, I tried to explain in case he didn’t know sign language. His sharp gaze followed my every movement. His aura radiated power unlike any Alpha, and I could feel it even without my wolf. That Alpha didn’t introduce himself either, questioning further. “Why can’t you speak?” Though his query was simple, the weight of it pressed on me like a stone. My fingers twitched by my sides, achin

Liora’s P.O.V. The graveyard was quiet, wrapped in the whisper of morning. A thin veil of mist clung to the earth, curling around the forgotten stones, but I only saw one name: my mother’s. I knelt in the damp grass, my fingers shaking as I traced the carved letters, the grooves worn out with time. Eluvia Ebonshade. Pressing my palm flat against the cold stone, I felt like a child again after a long time, yearning for her love. Usually, I had no time to visit my mom amidst endless tasks. But today was an exception. They gave me freedom because I was already condemned. Tonight, I would be sent to serve King Cassian! Just a few hours and then I would die in his bed, ending up beside my mother’s grave. The empty space before my eyes was going to be my home, a place where I could finally be with my mom. My shoulders shook as the grief came in wet, hot waves, streaming down my cheeks in the form of tears. I reminisced about the short time I spent with my mom, reliving the memor

Cassian’s P.O.V. “My Lord, Alpha Magnus is requesting an alliance for his pack’s protection. I have checked the records…” After four hours, my Beta was back with a detailed report, narrating the tale of the Ember Howl Pack’s deteriorating condition. Those useless details were getting on my nerves as I pushed through another round of punishment push-ups. Sweat beaded down my bare back, dropping on the marble floor, but nothing could wash away the faint trace of Liora’s scent lingering on my skin. Warg growled inside me, still restless. “You know what, marking our mate is better than exercise and lengthy reports. You are just wasting time, Cassian.” I ignored him and pressed harder, my muscles burning with each descent. Beta Damon’s voice cut through the tension as he turned the page and continued. “Despite the growing rogues’ attacks, Alpha Magnus has been gambling, wasting the pack’s money. His people are starving. They really need your mercy.” Gritting my te

Liora’s P.O.V.His what?My heart almost stopped, making it hard to breathe. For a second, I thought I had misheard him. My calculated old man couldn’t be that reckless. How could he say that?Me, and the lycan king’s mate?Impossible!My pulse thundered so loud as I stared at Alpha Magnus, trying to guess whether it was another trap of his twisted games. He must have planned ahead before popping that question.However, at this critical moment, my mind picked up its service and replayed all the stories I had heard about the king's brutality. The horrifying tales about the girls who didn’t survive the night when they failed to please him. And in my case, I was just a mute maid, the most unimpressive one he must have seen. It was indeed questionable how I survived a night with that ruthless king.Alpha Magnus felt suspicious and voiced that absurd possibility, stirring something deep in my chest. Hearing those words, ‘mate and me,’ in the same sentence with ‘king’ fluttered my heart.T

Liora’s P.O.V. I sat on the cold floor of my small room, a half-burned candle flickering beside me. My hands trembled as I reached for a pen and a scrap of paper I had hidden in the drawer under old linens. For a long moment, I just stared at the blank sheet, several thoughts dancing in my mind. Then, with some courage, I started writing. “His Majesty, King Cassian Veyraith…” The words poured out, raw and uneven. Then I wrote about the long nights when my blood was taken for the fake medical ‘reasons,’ how I was supposed to lay still as life drained from me, just so Beatrice could look radiant. I told him how she laughed at my face, tormenting me with endless chores, beatings, and hunger. The way they called me ‘dumb,’ ‘mutt,’ and ‘mute’ instead of my name. However, I didn’t write for pity or to gain his favor. I only wrote because King Cassian deserved to know. Cassian, a man everyone feared as a monster, was the only person who had ever looked at me without disgust. And now