When Emma’s fated mate rejects her to marry the Alpha King’s only daughter, she thinks losing him is the worst betrayal of her life. But then he destroys her family’s pack and dares to offer her a place—as his secret mistress. Her answer? “I’d rather warm your father’s bed than be your dirty little secret.” Adrian Blackthorn—the Alpha King’s father—is a ruthless, dangerously charming Lycan with the kind of power that makes enemies vanish overnight. He never touches the same woman twice… until Emma crashes into his world with vengeance burning in her eyes. What starts as revenge spirals into an intoxicating game of dominance, secrets, and forbidden desire. But behind the passion lurks a deeper danger—because in this war for love, loyalty, and power… someone always bleeds.
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The scent of roses and champagne clung to the air like a cruel reminder of what I’d just lost. My fingers tightened around the velvet box in my palm, the engagement ring Lucas had given me two weeks ago now digging into my skin like a mockery. It was supposed to be our wedding day. Instead, I was standing at the edge of the ballroom, watching him kiss another woman in front of the entire pack. Clara Whitmore. Daughter of the Alpha King. The perfect, polished prize every man dreamed of having on his arm. She wasn’t just wearing the gown I had dreamed of—she was wearing my future. Lucas didn’t even look guilty as he announced to the guests, “I’ve chosen Clara as my mate. The union between us will unite our packs and strengthen the kingdom.” My throat burned. “And what about the mate bond?” I shouted, my voice echoing over the gasps in the crowd. “The bond you swore to honor, Lucas?” He glanced at me, expression cold. “You were never enough for me, Emma. This is bigger than love. It’s about power.” The crowd murmured, some looking away in shame, others grinning at the drama. But Lucas wasn’t finished humiliating me. He walked toward me, lowering his voice just enough for only I could hear. “You could still be mine… just not as my wife. I’d make you my mistress, Emma. Keep you hidden, spoiled, but mine. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” My blood boiled. “I’d rather—” I stopped, my pulse hammering as the words formed on my tongue. “I’d rather sleep with your father than ever let you touch me again.” His smirk faltered. Gasps rippled through the crowd. I didn’t care. My heart was pounding too hard, my rage too hot to notice anything but the shadow moving at the edge of the ballroom. Adrian Blackthorn. The Alpha King’s father. Lucas’s father. And the most dangerous man in the kingdom. He was taller than I remembered, his silver-streaked hair giving him a distinguished edge that only made his lethal beauty more intimidating. Those piercing grey eyes swept over me once, lingering just a moment too long before flicking to Lucas. There was something in Adrian’s expression—interest, calculation, amusement. And I realized, with a chill, that he had heard every single word I’d just said. The music stopped. Clara was smiling like she’d won a war, but Lucas’s jaw was tight now, his eyes darting between me and the man whose approval he could never quite earn. Adrian took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on me. “Is that so?” His voice was deep, velvet over steel. Every head in the room turned toward us. “Yes,” I said, my chin lifting in defiance. “That’s exactly so.” A slow smile curved his lips—dangerous, knowing, and far too seductive. “Then perhaps,” he murmured, “we should talk.” The ballroom went silent, the weight of his words pressing down like a storm about to break. And in that moment, I knew two things: Lucas had just made the biggest mistake of his life… And Adrian Blackthorn was going to make sure I never forgot it.The following days unfolded like a twisted game of chess, every move calculated, every silence louder than words.Lucas didn’t accuse me anymore. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t question where I went, or why my phone lingered too long in my hands. Instead, he began to notice.I found my jewelry box slightly shifted one morning, as if someone had been counting the time it took me to return. My phone charger unplugged, but neatly coiled. My perfume bottle tilted just a fraction to the left, the kind of detail only someone desperate for answers would notice.He was tracking me without saying it. Waiting for me to slip.And the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.Adrian, on the other hand, was no longer content with stolen hours.He summoned me to his private chambers more frequently, his messages short, commanding: Come. Now.The man was fire and storm combined, and every time I tried to resist, he pulled me in deeper.
The house had turned into a battlefield of silence. Lucas no longer asked me questions. He no longer confronted me with accusations or desperate pleas. Instead, he moved through the rooms like a ghost—present, but unreadable. That frightened me more than anything. Before, I could measure his suspicion in his words, in his tone. Now, there was nothing. His eyes lingered on me too long, his touch absent when it should have been there, his movements deliberate. He was watching. Waiting. Plotting. I woke one night to the sound of footsteps outside the bedroom door. My heart hammered as I listened—measured steps, slow and steady—before they faded into silence. When I opened the door, the hallway was empty. Lucas hadn’t gone back to bed. Downstairs, the faint glow of the living room lamp revealed him sitting in the armchair, staring at nothing. He didn’t even look up when I descended the stairs. “Luc
The drive back from the cabin was suffocating. Lucas didn’t speak a single word. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles blanched, his jaw set in a line so sharp it looked painful.I sat in the passenger seat with my body rigid, my palms slick with sweat. The silence between us wasn’t empty—it was a weapon, sharpened and aimed squarely at me.When we finally reached home, Lucas didn’t storm inside or slam doors like I half-expected. Instead, he walked calmly into the living room, sat down, and gestured for me to sit across from him. The calmness was worse than fury.“Emma,” he said finally, his voice too quiet. “We need to talk.”My throat went dry. “About what?”His eyes narrowed slightly, the blue of his gaze cutting through me. “Don’t do that. Don’t play dumb. You know what this is about.”The weight of his stare pinned me to my seat.“I saw the way he touched you,” Lucas continued, his voice tightening. “The way he looks at y
The cabin felt smaller after Adrian’s arrival, as though the walls had shifted closer, trapping us inside a suffocating cage.Lucas stood rigid near the window, his fists still clenched, his jaw tight with restrained fury. His calm mask had cracked—just enough to let me see the storm boiling underneath.Adrian, on the other hand, looked utterly unbothered. He moved across the room with that same unshakable authority, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the bottle on the counter as though he had every right to be here.“What the hell are you doing here?” Lucas repeated, his voice rougher this time, darker.Adrian took a slow sip, then set the glass down with deliberate care. His eyes flicked to me before settling back on Lucas. “Protecting her.”My breath caught.Lucas’s face twisted. “Protecting her? From what? From me?”Adrian’s smile was sharp, dangerous. “From the weight you put on her shoulders. From your suspicions. From your weakness.”“Stop
The air in the house had shifted. It was no longer just tense—it was sharp, like walking barefoot over glass. Every movement, every word, felt like a test.Lucas had grown quieter in the last few days. Not withdrawn, but deliberate, as though each silence was a carefully chosen strategy. He didn’t accuse me outright. He didn’t raise his voice. Instead, he began to watch. To wait. To set traps that felt too subtle to resist until I was already caught in them.It started with something small.One evening, he walked into the bedroom holding a pair of earrings I had left on the bathroom counter.“These aren’t yours,” he said calmly.I froze. They were mine—Adrian’s gift, delicate gold hoops that burned my skin like evidence.“Yes, they are,” I replied quickly, forcing a laugh. “You must’ve just forgotten. I bought them months ago.”Lucas’s eyes lingered on me for a long moment, and though he said nothing, I could see the doubt tightening his jaw. He set them
The morning sun spilled through the curtains, but its warmth did nothing to soothe the icy dread twisting inside me. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the memory of last night haunting me—Adrian’s mouth on mine, his hands commanding every inch of me, and then… the shadow outside the door.Lucas.Had he seen? Or had my mind simply conjured a nightmare from the guilt that consumed me?When I finally dragged myself downstairs, Lucas was already at the table, sipping his coffee, the morning paper spread before him. His smile when he saw me was gentle—too gentle.“Morning,” he said. “Sleep well?”The question was too casual. My chest tightened. “As well as I could,” I replied carefully, avoiding his eyes.He folded the paper neatly and set it aside. “I thought we could take a drive today. Just the two of us. Out of the city, maybe. You need a change of scenery.”My stomach lurched. A drive sounded harmless enough, but there was something in his tone—a caref
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