LOGINEMBER’S POV
The words hang between us, and I can’t believe I just said them. But there’s no denying the intensity of my desire for this man, even in the midst of my heartbreak.
Sapphire is going absolutely feral inside me—she wants to feel his hands run down every inch of my skin and it makes no sense. We don’t even know him.
He raises an eyebrow at me, something dark and amused flickering across his devastatingly handsome face.
“Is that really what you want?” His voice drops lower, rougher, each word like a physical caress.
I nod, feeling a rush of heat flood through me. I know it’s reckless, but I can’t help myself. I need this. I need him. I need to feel wanted instead of worthless. I need to forget Gale’s mocking voice, Logan’s cruel laughter, the image of my husband on his knees.
If Gale can fuck whoever he wants, so can I.
But just as quickly as the moment ignited, it flickers out as he takes a step back from me, his expression cooling into something almost bored.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m afraid I have other business to attend to.”
What?
He’s rejecting me?
Something hot and humiliating floods through my chest. Of course. Of course even a stranger doesn’t want me. Gale was right—I’m desperate, pathetic, not worth—
No.
Fuck that.
Wild instinct takes over and I grab his arm as he turns to leave, yanking him back around. Before I can second-guess myself, before I can think about consequences or propriety or anything beyond this moment, I kiss him with everything I have.
His lips are sinfully soft, perfect, and the contact sends a rush of liquid heat straight between my legs. For a moment, he’s completely still, and panic claws at me—oh god, he really doesn’t want me—
Then he growls.
The sound is purely animalistic, vibrating against my mouth as his hands suddenly slam against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. He kisses me back with bruising intensity, all teeth and tongue and raw hunger that makes my knees weak.
Our tongues meet in a fierce dance and I cling to him desperately, wanting to lose myself in this moment, in this feeling of being wanted so intensely it borders on violence.
His hands roam over my body with clear purpose—gripping my waist, my hips, my ass—each touch sending electric shocks down my spine. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Maybe my relationship with Gale kept me so sexually starved that even this contact with a stranger drives me mad with lust, but I don’t care. I don’t fucking care anymore.
He shoves me back against the wall, pinning my wrists above my head with one large hand. His body presses hard against mine and I can feel every muscled inch of him, including the thick length of his cock straining against his pants, pressing into my stomach.
Oh god.
His hot breath teases my neck as he peppers kisses along my throat, biting down on my pulse point hard enough to make me cry out. The pleasure-pain is exquisite, and I arch into him shamelessly.
“Such pretty sounds,” he murmurs against my skin, voice like gravel. “I wonder what other noises I can make you make.”
His free hand slides underneath my dress, trailing up my inner thigh with agonizing slowness. I’m trembling, desperate, my panties already soaked through. When his fingers finally brush against the lace, I gasp.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pressing harder. “You’re dripping wet already.” His fingers hook under the fabric, pushing it aside, and when he touches my bare pussy I actually whimper. “Are you this desperate to get fucked by me? By a complete stranger?”
I should feel ashamed. I should stop this.
Instead, I moan and lean into his touch, spreading my legs wider in shameless invitation. This is who I am now. The good girl who followed every rule is gone. I just want to feel something other than pain.
“I want to hear you say it.” His finger circles my clit, slow and torturous, making my hips buck. “If you want my cock inside you that badly, then beg for it. Convince me you deserve it.”
Then he plunges two fingers deep inside me.
“Oh god!” The cry rips from my throat as he fucks me with his fingers, rough and fast and perfect. My thighs shake, my whole body trembling as pleasure builds at an impossible rate.
“Say it,” he demands, curling his fingers to hit that spot that makes me see stars.
“Yes! Please!” I’m gasping, grinding down on his hand. “Please fuck me. I need you to take me right here. Use me, ruin me—I don’t care. Just please—”
He chuckles darkly against my skin, the vibrations sending me even closer to the edge. Then his lips brush my ear, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“I never thought I’d see the day where you’d be such a naughty girl, Ember.”
I freeze.
Wait.
How does he know my name? Why does he sound like he knows me?
The pleasure has completely disoriented my thoughts, but I manage to pull back slightly, staring at this gorgeous stranger carefully. He still looks so familiar, I just can’t place from where...
“W-what?” My voice is breathless, shaky. “How do you know my name?”
The devious man smirks, wicked intentions etched into every handsome line of his face.
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your Lycan King, Ember darling.” His blue eyes hold that cruel, calculating glint I’ve seen before, and suddenly it hits me like a fucking freight train. “I certainly know about the beautiful mate of Alpha Gale Crawford.”
No.
Oh god, no.
King Knox Volkov.
I just kissed the most dangerous man in the world. I just begged the Lycan King to fuck me in an airplane bathroom.
As the Lycan King, he rules with an iron fist—both the urban city as a filthy rich CEO and the supreme ruler of the werewolf realm. He’s ruthless and unforgiving, with a reputation that precedes him. Stories of alphas who crossed him and simply disappeared. Packs that challenged his authority and were wiped off the map.
He’s a man who commands respect and fear in equal measure, and I just threw myself at him like a bitch in heat.
Mortification crashes over me. He’s Gale’s boss. The supreme authority over every pack in North America.
Do you know how ruined my life would be if word gets out that I tried seducing the Lycan King? Alpha Gale’s wife throwing herself at his superior?
The scandal would destroy what little reputation I have left.
I flush with embarrassment and try to push him away, but he steps in closer instead, his fingers still buried inside me, making me cry out involuntarily.
“Don’t stop the fun now.” His grin is pure wickedness. “Why do you seem so frightened?”
My mind is in chaos, my whole body overcome with conflicting urges—run, stay, hide, submit.
“No... no... no.” I shake my head frantically when he leans in to kiss me again. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. This was a mistake. A huge mistake.”
His expression darkens immediately, eyes flashing gold—his wolf rising to the surface. My heart pounds and all my false courage evaporates.
“It’s too late for that.” King Knox growls. “You begged me to fuck you, Ember. You asked me to ruin you. And that is exactly what I’m going to do. Nothing less.”
“Wait—”
But before I can object, before I can think, he spins me around to face the mirror and bends me over the sink. My hands slam against the counter to catch myself, and I watch in the mirror as he yanks my skirt up around my waist.
His hand runs up my inner thigh and he discovers what his fingers already confirmed—I’m soaking wet, my thighs slick with arousal despite my protests.
“Look at yourself,” he commands, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “Look at how desperate you are for this. For me.”
My reflection stares back—face flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and glassy with need. I look wrecked. I look like someone I don’t recognize.
“This is your last chance to back out,” Knox says, his voice rough as his hands grip my hips. “Because once I’m inside you, you belong to me until I decide we’re done. Understand?”
I should say no. Should push him away. Should think about the consequences.
Instead, I push my hips back against him in answer.
Knox growls in satisfaction. I hear the sound of fabric tearing and feel cool air against my pussy as he rips my panties completely off. Then he slams into me in one brutal thrust.
“FUCK!” The scream tears from my throat as he splits me open. He’s huge, so thick I can barely breathe, filling me so completely it borders on pain.
His hand clamps over my mouth immediately.
“Quiet,” he orders against my ear. “Unless you want everyone on this plane to know what a desperate little slut you are.”
He pulls out almost completely, then drives back in, setting a devastating rhythm that has the counter rattling beneath me. Each thrust pushes me forward, my palms squeaking against the mirror as I try to brace myself.
“Watch,” he commands, forcing my head up to meet my own eyes in the reflection. “Watch how good you look getting fucked properly.”
And I do. I watch myself take his cock, watch my face transform with pleasure, watch the way my body moves with each brutal thrust. I’ve never had sex standing up before. Never felt anything like this raw, desperate claiming. It felt so fucking good.
His hand moves from my mouth to wrap around my throat, possessing, owning. His other hand grips my hip hard enough to bruise.
“When’s the last time someone made you come?” he growls in my ear.
I can barely think, barely breathe. “I... I don’t remember...”
He stills completely, and the look on his face in the mirror is pure fury.
“You don’t remember?”
“Gale never... he never could...”
Something feral crosses Knox’s expression. He pulls out suddenly and I whimper at the loss, feeling empty and aching.
But then he spins me around, lifts me onto the counter, and drops to his knees.
“What are you—oh my GOD!”
His mouth is on me, tongue finding my clit with devastating precision. His fingers push inside me, curling to hit that spot that makes my vision go white. I’ve never felt anything like this. Gale never wanted to do this, said it was degrading, that good omegas shouldn’t expect—
I have to bite down on my own fist to keep from screaming as pleasure crashes over me in waves. My thighs clamp around Knox’s head, my whole body shaking as I come harder than I ever have in my life.
Knox doesn’t give me time to recover. He stands, positions himself between my spread thighs, and fucks into me again—this time slower, deeper, watching my face as I take every inch.
“Count,” he orders.
“W-what?”
“Count how many times you come. Because you’re going to remember exactly who gave you real pleasure for the first time.”
He punctuates the words with a brutal thrust that hits something deep inside me, and I’m already climbing toward another orgasm, my body still sensitive from the first.
“One,” I gasp out as the second one hits.
Knox smirks and picks up his pace.
By the time I gasp out “Three,” my voice hoarse and broken, there’s loud pounding on the bathroom door.
“This is the flight attendant! You need to exit the bathroom immediately!”
Shit.
EMBER’S POVNot from Devika, who only knows what a spy once told her. Not from Silas, who deals in secrets and rogues and has never once touched anything divine.Not from Knox, whose hand tightens on mine because there is nothing he can buy or break or bleed for me here.The silence stretches, and the gravity of things settles over the room, and I understand that I have finally reached the edge of everything anyone at this table knows, and past it there is only me and a war-god who thinks I’m nothing.And it’s Silas who breaks it, and I wish he hadn’t.“I hate,” he says hesitantly, “to be the one to put out a hopeful little fire. But somebody at this table has to say the thing the rest of you are dancing around.” He sets his huge scarred hands flat on the black wood. “You all keep talking about waking this wolf as if it’s salvation. As if the answer to a queen hunting her is to become strong enough to fight back. But you heard my sister. Waking that wolf is a suicide mission. It’s the
EMBER’S POV“You don’t want to wake her, Ember.”“I—”“Are you actually trying to get us killed?” She leans across the table, the fear back and as naked as the sun. “Listen to me, you foolish girl. There is no waking Sapphire without waking Isolde. You don’t get to just reach for that god without lighting a beacon across the entire East. The second you do, every single soul who ever carried that essence feels it—and the Queen feels it most of all. Waking your wolf is begging for an execution. It’s sending up a flare reading ‘yoo-hoo, here I am, come slaughter me.’ You cannot have one without the other. The very power you think you want is exactly what will pull your death right down on your head.” Her voice drops. “That is the trap of you. That is the trap Esmerelda saw the second you drew breath. The only thing in this world that can save you from Isolde is the exact thing that will bring her straight to your door.”The room has gone cold.“But I’ve already touched her,” I say slowly
EMBER’S POVSilas lets out a violent growl, his chair scraping viciously against the stone as he steps forward, ready to tear her throat out for even suggesting it.But Knox holds up a single hand, stopping Silas dead in his tracks.Knox lets out a dark chuckle. It’s a sound entirely devoid of humour.“Nice try, Devika.” Knox shakes his head in dry amusement. “But I don’t negotiate for or with trash. Keep the name. I don’t need you to find the snake in my house. In fact, I’m far more delighted to know one exists. Espionage happens to be one of my favourite parts of being King.”Devika watches his face, and something almost like humour passes through her eyes.“Aren’t you even a little curious about Esmerelda, at least? She was quite fond of your house, you know. At the time, I couldn’t care about the Volkovs, but Isolde and her handpicked spies were more than interested. They were a part of the house.” A small, cruel shrug. “But I find I rather enjoy watching a king realise he’s been
EMBER’S POV“So they gave up,” Devika says. “Esmerelda gave up. When the ritual failed the third time, she told me the truth, plainly, the way only she ever did. That the Maiden had chosen you and would not be moved, not by ritual, not by anything, and that meant there was only one thing left to do. If we couldn’t take the god out of you, we had to keep her asleep inside you. Forever. Buried so deep she never woke, never blazed, never gave Isolde a single thread to follow home.” Her eyes lift to mine, wet now. “That’s when the higher grade pills began, Ember. They knocked off most of your childhood memories. Everything your wolf had touched was simply beyond reach. And they made you useless. Not just weak, but too docile to lash out. Too docile to feel emotions strong enough to reach your wolf. I don’t know where I went wrong, or how you were able to break through and reach your wolf. But everything I did, I did to hide you. To keep a wolf leashed so that the most dangerous woman in t
EMBER’S POV“You were small at the time. Three, maybe four.” Her voice drops toward the floor. “You had a doll, and you carried it everywhere. Named it yourself, the first name you ever gave anything—”And something moves in the deepest, a cold thread pulling up from a place I’ve never once been able to reach, and before she can say it, my own mouth opens and the name falls out like it’s been waiting my whole life.“Molly.”Devika goes chalk-white.“Yes. Molly.”“I remember—” and it’s surfacing now, dredged up from under years of suppression. “I remember playing with her in the dirt. I brought her things. I made her—” my breath catches, “—I made her tea parties. I brought her flowers. I thought she talked to me. Mother, I remember thinking my doll was talking to me, telling me to—”“It wasn’t the doll,” Devika says quietly, and the whole room goes quiet.“W-What?”Devika sighs.“They found you in the daycare yard one day. The whole place had gone really quiet, and when they came looki
EMBER’S POVShe leans in, and that’s when the dread starts to build in her voice.“You have to understand what that meant, Ember. Esmerelda watched it happen from the inside, and it terrified even her. Isolde bluffed all she could, parading Elara as the chosen one, but the people are as clever as their queen, and they refused to be fooled for too long. A Caelora without the Silver Wolf is a wounded thing, and every hungry house in the East could smell it. The queen with no god. The throne with no teeth. Isolde grew more frightened every season the wolf stayed lost, and a frightened Isolde is a monstrous one, because that woman answers fear with blood. Executions. Purges. Anyone who whispered that the Silver Maiden might be gone for good simply vanished. The whole court began walking on glass, waiting, praying one of the girls would manifest and end it. And they never did. Because the Maiden was already gone.” Her eyes fix on me. “She’d already chosen. She’d followed your father’s esse







