LOGINDr. Hope Stevens has spent her life rooted in logic, medicine, and control. An orphan and accomplished trauma surgeon in the quiet mountain town of Black Hollow, she's devoted herself to saving lives—never expecting hers would be the one in danger. When Hope is kidnapped and taken to a hidden camp deep in the forest, she’s faced with an impossible truth: werewolves are real. And not only is she the fated mate of Malakar, a fierce and powerful alpha fighting to protect his pack, but her arrival may change the course of an ancient war. Thrust into a world she never believed existed, Hope carves out a new identity among the wolves—finding purpose, belonging, and love. But just as she begins to feel like part of something greater, devastating secrets from her past come to light. A lost prophecy. A family legacy steeped in blood. And a shocking truth: Hope isn’t just the daughter of a hunter. She’s also the child of a wolf. As war brews between werewolves and hunters, Hope stands at the center of it all—a bridge between two worlds fated to destroy one another. But when the ultimate tragedy strikes, awakening a power long buried, Hope must embrace every part of who she is… or lose everything. Legacy or love. Blood or pack. Can one woman rewrite destiny?
View MoreThe sun dips low behind the forest, and a chill rides the wind as dark gray clouds gather over Black Hollow. The air smells of rain, of wet earth, of something unsettled. The sun is gone now - as if agreeing that the happier days are over, fading into the gray mist that Black Hollow knows all too well. Even the pack pauses, sensing the shift, tails flicking, ears pricked.Hope stands at the edge of the river, the waterfall’s mist curling around her like a silver veil. Malakar’s beside her, nuzzling her shoulder, but even his presence doesn’t fully ease the creeping unease in her chest. She shakes it off, blaming the wind, the shadows among the trees. She doesn't want to believe that something is out there. Another threat to their safety, their happiness - the peace that they fought so hard for. She doesn't want to believe that it's all over. She wants to ignore it - wants to go on living the life that she has worked so hard for. The life that she has always wanted. The life she deserv
Hope's POV.The sunlight filters through the canopy in golden streams, dappling the forest floor with shifting patterns. My paws pound against the soft earth, Malakar’s steady rhythm matching mine just behind me. The air is warm and clean, scented with pine, wildflowers, and the faint musk of deer somewhere far off.I push faster, not because I want to outrun him — though I know he’ll chase me no matter what — but because the freedom feels intoxicating. My lungs fill with cool, crisp air; the wind rushes past my ears.Malakar’s deep growl rumbles playfully as he closes the gap. I glance back, my tail swishing high in invitation. He surges forward, brushing against my flank, our strides falling into perfect sync as we leap over a fallen log.We don’t need words out here. The forest is our language. The sunlight, the birdsong, the rush of wind through the leaves — it all speaks to something primal and right inside me.Every glance he throws me is warm. Every touch is a reminder that we
Lucian's POV.Our boots crunch over the gravel path, the forest parting just enough to reveal what Emory’s been talking about for weeks.Our land.We come to a stop, and for a moment, we just stand there, both staring out at the land in front of us. The sun hangs low, throwing molten gold over the wide meadow. The air smells like pine and fresh earth, the kind of scent that makes you breathe deeper without even thinking about it.“This is it,” Emory whispers, almost like saying it too loudly will break the spell. Her hand finds mine, warm and sure.I step out first, boots sinking slightly into soft soil, and the quiet hits me. Not the oppressive kind, but the kind that wraps around you like it’s saying, you’re safe here. The river glints in the distance, winding lazily through tall grass, and the trees… the trees feel old. The kind of old that remembers things.Emory’s already walking ahead, her excitement pulling her forward. She turns to me, grinning so wide I can’t help but grin ba
Velara's POV.The forest is quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that feels intentional, like even the wind is holding its breath. Vladimir’s hand is warm in mine as he leads me along a narrow trail I don’t recognize. His pace is unhurried, but there’s a spark in his eyes that makes me curious.We break through a patch of low branches, and I stop short.A blanket is spread on the grass beside the river, its edges weighed down with smooth stones. Lanterns hang from nearby branches, casting soft pools of golden light. A basket sits in the middle, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread curling through the air.I laugh — soft, a little surprised. “What’s all this?”“We haven’t had a moment to ourselves in ages,” he says, smiling in that quiet way of his, like it’s a secret he’s letting me in on. “So tonight, no prophecy, no hunters, no war. Just you. Just us.”It’s ridiculous how much that makes my chest ache.We walk for a while first, hand in hand along the riverbank. The water glimmers,






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