LOGINShe was the wolf no one wanted. He was the heir no one expected. Sera has spent her life being invisible. She is cursed with a repulsive scent that makes her an outcast. When her fated mate publicly rejects her in a humiliating way, Aeron steps forward and claims her before the entire pack. It should be her rescue but nothing about Aeron is simple. Aeron's obsession with Sera runs deeper than anyone knows. He's been watching her. Waiting for her. And he planned her rejection from the very beginning. Why would the most powerful heir in the pack choose the one wolf everyone despises? Some love stories begin with fate. This one begins with obsession.
View MoreSeraAs if my words break a sort of invisible spell, movements instantly begin to stir within the packhouse.Doors burst open, and the young maids and old servants who had been hiding pour out.Ketura leads them, her silver-streaked hair disheveled but her steps sure and commanding. She carries her medical bag, barking orders even as she turns toward us."Oh, Your Grace!" she exclaims, reaching Aeron first. Her skilled hands assess his wounds with quick efficiency. "Quick! We must stabilize him immediately. Ambulances–get them hear now!"The servants spring into action, helping the fallen warriors to their feet or into makeshift stretchers. Young maids support the limping warriors, their earlier terror now replaced with focused care.Older servants fetch blankets and first aids from the packhouse, turning the bloodied field into a scent of frantic recovery.Sirens wail in the distance as ambulances arrives, their flashing lights cutting through the lingering darkness.I stay by Aeron'
Sera"No!" Jiro screams, the sound ripping from his throat like a wounded animal's final howl.I watch as his massive frame trembles violently as he fights the invisible chains wrapping around his will. His knees buckle further, slamming into the blood-soaked earth. But he claws at the ground, fingers digging furrows through the dirt and gore."I will not...chant her name! I am Alpha of the freaking Grimwards! I bow to no one!"Yet even as the words tear free, his voice cracks. The idomitable compulsion surges through him, my scent flooding every corner of his being like an unstoppable tide.I feel it too–the raw and ancient power pulsing from deep within my wolf and connecting each Grimward soul as if they were mere extensions of my own body.Jiro's lips part against his will, the chant building in his chest until it bursts out in a broken whisper. "The Mother...Our Mother of Scents..."My will overwhelms his own completely, and I see tears of rage streaking down his scarred face and
Sera"No," I mutter under my breath as I see Jiro hitting Aeron from the high window of our room.I look away, tears freely falling from my eyes. There is no doubt now that Aeron would killed before the sun rises.Aeron had asked that I protect the unborn child at any cost, even if it means abandoning Nightbane forever. But that doesn't seem possible, for Grimward warriors would barge into the packhouse building in no time.Is this the end?"Oh, no," I mutter, as my eyes slowly open again to see the young maids and old servants in the packhouse all staring at me."Your Grace," one of the maids called in a fearful voice. "Are–are we all going to die?" Are we all going to die? The question reads in my mind multiple times.I turn back to the window to see Jiro still striking Aeron who was now lying helpless in the pool of his own blood."No, no." I shake my head. "No. Aeron must not die!"My last words leave my mouth in a loud scream that surprises even me. A surge of raw emotion burn t
Aeron"Attack!" I hear the commander of warriors roar.The warriors do as commanded, some transforming into their wolf forms and others shooting with guns as we all go against the growing number of Grimward rogue warriors.I tear through the first wave, fangs sinking into an enemy's throat. Roars and screams fill the air."Protect the packhouse at all cost folks!" the commander roars as the fight intensifies.I sight Jiro as he leads the Grimward from the front. Still in his human form, he tears through our defenses like a proper hurricane of death.The Grimwards follow with relentless savagery, and I watch as Nightbane warriors begin to fall in great numbers.Some are slaughtered where they stand, throats torn open and bodies left crumpled in the mud. Others are overwhelmed and bound with silver chains, dragged away through the broken fence as prisoners.Our ally troops aren't spared. In the same manner as the Nightbane warriors, they are slaughtered in their numbers at all fronts.N












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