LOGINSelah’s POV The market sprawled across the lower valley, a chaos of hides and spices, metalwork and voices. I loved it—the way it hummed with life, the way wolves bickered and laughed and traded. It was the heart of the pack, and I wanted Cain to see it. To see me in it. I walked ahead, letting him follow. His footsteps were heavy, deliberate, the gait of a predator who didn't need to hurry. I felt his gaze on my back like a physical weight, tracing the curve of my spine, the sway of my hips. Let him look. Let him want. "Tell me about the northern markets," I said over my shoulder. "Are they as lively as this?" "More dangerous." He caught up, falling into step beside me. "We don't trade goods. We trade secrets. Favors. Blood." "Sounds tedious." "Sounds like survival." His hand brushed mine, a fleeting touch. "But I'd trade all of it for a day in a market like this. With a woman like y
Selah’s POV I felt his gaze on my back as I walked out, a burning weight that promised retribution. Good. Let him burn. Let him ache the way I had ached through the long years of my widowhood, the way I still ached every time I remembered his mouth on my throat, his knot stretching me open. But I was no pup to be mounted and forgotten. The corridor stretched ahead, cold stone beneath my bare feet. I hadn't bothered with shoes. Let the pack see me as I was—barefoot, untamed, fresh from a night that had already become legend. Let them whisper. Let them wonder. I paused at the archway leading to the great hall, smoothing my tunic. It was simple, practical, the kind of garment I wore for council meetings. But I'd left the top laces loose, just enough to show the bruise on my collarbone where his teeth had sunk in. A mark of claiming, but also a warning. I belong to no one but myself. The hall
Cain’s POV Dawn crept through the gaps in the shutters, painting her sleeping form in pale gold. She lay tangled in the furs, one leg thrown over mine, her cheek pressed to my chest. Her breathing was slow, even, but I knew she was awake. The slight twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away. "You're thinking too loud," she murmured, her voice still rough with sleep. "Am I?" I traced a finger down her spine, watching the goosebumps rise. "Maybe I'm thinking about how beautiful you look in the morning light." She opened one eye, a cynical glint in it. "You're a terrible liar, Alpha." "But I'm good at other things." I rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath me. She didn't resist, just arched into me, her legs parting to cradle my hips. "Want to see?" Her hand slid between us, gripping my half-hard cock. "I want to see you beg."
Cain’s POVThe fire crackled as I pulled her up from her knees, my cum still warm on her tongue. She licked her lips, savoring it, and I wanted to throw her back on the table and take her again. But she had other plans."Get your warriors," she said, her voice husky but commanding. "I'll gather the pack. We meet at the moonstone in one hour."I caught her wrist, pulling her close. "You're sure about this? Once we do this, there's no going back. Our packs will be bound by blood and moon."She smiled, that dangerous, beautiful smile that made my cock twitch. "I've never been more sure of anything. You're mine, Cain. And I want the whole world to know it."I released her, watching her stride out of the great hall, her hips swaying with purpose. For a moment, I just stood there, my chest still heaving, the taste of her on my lips. Then I laughed, low and dark.What have I gotten myself into?An hour later, I s
Cain’s POVThe pack house smelled like pine smoke, old blood, and her.That last scent was what kept me hard even after she'd drained me twice against the bark of that oak. Luna. Selah. The name burned through my veins like rotgut whiskey, and every time I looked at her, I wanted more.I followed her through the heavy oak doors, letting them slam shut behind us, cutting off the howls of her pack. Inside, the fire pit in the center of the great hall still crackled, casting long shadows across the wooden beams. The chairs from the council meeting sat abandoned, one of them still stained with Aldric's blood.She walked ahead of me, her hips swaying with the confidence of a woman who'd just crushed a rebellion and swallowed my cum in the same hour. Her hair was tangled, her shirt torn where I'd ripped it, a bruise blooming on her shoulder from where she'd slammed me into the tree.I wanted to put another bruise there. Right next to
Selah’s POV The eastern border ran along a jagged ridge of granite and pine, the tree line broken by an old game trail that snaked toward the valley below. The rain had stopped, but the air still dripped with moisture, every leaf heavy and dark. My wolves had gathered—those loyal to me, those who had watched me kill Aldric and hadn't flinched. They stood in a loose formation, eyes bright with anticipation. Cain flanked me, still shirtless from our night, leather pants hastily laced, a blade strapped across his back. His warriors formed a second ring around my fighters, a wall of northern steel and silence. "Thirty wolves," I said, scanning the ridge. "That's what your scout counted?" The bloodied warrior nodded. "At least. Aldric's son, Mikel, leads them. He's calling it a claim on the pack—says you murdered his father unlawfully and have no right to rule." I laughed, the sound sharp and cold. "His
Selah’s POVThe third night came with a storm.Thunder rolled across the mountains, shaking the walls of the pack house. Rain lashed against the boarded-up windows, drowning the world in black water. The air smelled of ozone and wet earth and the lingering copper
Selah’s POVSleep didn't come that night. Not with Cain's body warm against mine, not with the ring heavy on my finger, not with Aldric's hatred burning in my memory. I lay in the dark, listening to the wind howl outside, feeling the subtle hum of the pack bond—still frayed, st
Selah’s POV The council table groaned under our weight, the wood cool against my bare back, the papers scattered beneath me like a bed of fallen leaves. Cain's mouth was on my throat, teeth scraping, tongue soothing, while his hips drove into me in a rhythm that made the old o
Darius’s POV The weight of the past week pressed down on my shoulders like a fucking mountain. Five attacks. Five. My warriors were dropping like flies, and the pack was starting to whisper. I could feel their fear, their doubt, creeping through the bonds like rot. I was Darius fucking Vargas, the







