LOGIN“I, Alpha Rand Thor, reject this low life Omega.” He said. I could not think of anything else. The rejection hit deeper than I could imagine. But it was more painful when my sister was named Luna instead. I ran, ran far away from the assassin they sent to kill me, until I fainted. Upon waking up I was in the Bloodstone pack's territory—our biggest rival. I wondered why I am still alive. Until I feel the mate bond when Alpha Thoros Myr enters. The moon goddess has blessed me with another chance, but to my mother’s killer. The mate bond could not let me kill him. I was attracted to his charm. Will I be able to survive his cruelty? Or will I bend him to my will?
View MoreSylvia Fenris' POV ***********************************************I woke to unfamiliar warmth and the low murmur of voices I didn't recognize.For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming, a soft bed, sunlight through a window I had never seen, the smell of woodsmoke and pine instead of academy linen. Then pain registered, sharp and everywhere, my paws and my feet all bandaged, my whole body aching like I had been dragged through the entire forest, which, I realized slowly, was not far from the truth. Every muscle protested when I tried to move even slightly, small fires lighting up in my shoulders, my ribs and the soles of my feet."She is awake."I turned my head toward the voice and found a woman I did not know, older, with kind eyes and a healer's careful hands, sitting beside the bed, a basin of water and clean cloth on the table beside her. Behind her, stood two men I recognized instantly by the crest stitched into their collars, the crest my history classes had taught
Sylvia Fenris' POV************************************************I didn't tell my friends about the note. I burned it in the candle flame instead, watching the paper curl black at the edges and crumble to ash on my windowsill, and told myself it was a cruel prank. Some jealous classmate with too much time and too little conscience, nothing more. It was easier to believe that than to sit with the alternative, that someone with real resources and real intent wanted me gone from this school, and maybe from this world entirely. I went about my days like nothing had changed, forcing smiles at breakfast, forcing my hands steady during training, pretending the note was just paper and ash and nothing more.I almost believed that too, until three nights later.I was walking back from the training barn after a late session with Coach Aldric later than usual, the sky already dark and starless, clouds pressing low over the academy grounds like a held breath.I felt it before I hear
Sylvia Fenris’ POV ************************************************************************************ I kept out of his way for a week, tried never to have anything to do with him even though a part of me still desired him. It was not as easy as I expected. He seemed to be avoiding me as well, we would appear at the edges of classrooms, and never quite look me in the eye, like he was giving me room to hate him properly. Part of me was thankful for the distance because it will help in quenching whatever burning desires I once had for him, but another part, more stubborn and less sizable, kept scanning the crowded hallways for a glimpse of dark hair and stormy eyes, and each time I caught myself doing it, I hated myself a little more. So, I trained instead, harder than ever, forcing my body until my muscles cried out and my wolf was finally responding to my call without question. Coach Aldric told me I was improving faster than anyone he had taught in a decade, and I clung
Sylvia Fenris’ POV ************************************************************************************ “You lie.” “You lie.” The words came out shaky, my whole body suddenly cold despite the warmth of the morning sun climbing over the fence posts. “You couldn't have done it. Everybody knows you weren't born when the banishment happened,” I said. “You said so yourself," he said with an apologetic voice. I said each word louder, panic and denial blending until they were indistinguishable. "No, the banishment,” I continued. His eyes locked with mine. He wouldn't let me look away from what he was about to say. “But your mother didn’t die when they banished her, Sylvia. She died six years back. In a skirmish on the border. I was fifteen years old. Old enough to fight in a war I didn’t understand, yet young enough to still believe everything my father told me about the people who exiled us, he continued. “Six years ago?” I asked. “I was told my whole life that my mother






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