LOGINHe rejected his fated human mate to save his pack. Now the cursed Luna he broke is the only one who can save—or destroy—him. “Mine.” That single word from the most dangerous man in the room changes my life forever. I’m just a broke human waitress, juggling two jobs to pay my mother’s hospital bills, when a brutal bar fight ends with my throat under a stranger’s claws…and my fate sealed by a kiss I never asked for. Ronan Vale, Alpha of the Crimson Hollow Pack—cold, merciless, untouchable—claims me as his mate in front of his warriors. There’s just one problem. I’m human. His pack wants me dead. And Ronan? He rejects me in public the very next day. To the wolves, I’m nothing but a bargaining chip: a human “Luna” tied to the Alpha by a contract arrangement to keep peace with the human council. To Ronan, I’m supposed to be an inconvenience—a weakness he can not afford. Then why does he look at me like he wants to devour me? Why does my body burn whenever he’s close? The more Ronan touches me, the more something inside me awakens: sharp senses, violent hunger, flashes of another life that doesn’t belong to a human girl at all. I’m not just a human Luna. I’m the cursed mate he once swore he’d never accept… and this time, I might be the one who walks away.
View More*Naomi*The howl echoes through the trees, bouncing off trunks until it seems to come from everywhere at once."Drive faster," Bella whispers."I'm trying."The road narrows ahead, branches scraping the sides of the car like claws. The GPS is still dead—just a black screen reflecting my own pale face back at me.Another howl. Closer.Bella makes a small, terrified sound."It's probably just—" I start.Something darts across the road.I slam the brakes.The car skids, tires losing grip on the loose gravel. We spin—half a rotation, maybe more—and then the world tilts as the front wheel catches the edge of a ditch.Metal screams. Glass cracks.We jerk to a stop, the car tilted at a sick angle, my seatbelt cutting into my chest.Silence.Then Bella's voice, shaking: "Nay? Naomi, are you—""I'm okay." I fumble with the seatbelt, hands trembling. "You?""I think so. I think—"A shadow passes the window.We both freeze.It's there and gone in a heartbeat—a shape too large to be a dog, too fl
*Lilah*The flower wilts on my windowsill.I've kept it there for three days now, watching it slowly curl in on itself. The girl who gave it to me—Tomas's niece—doesn't know that her small gesture has become an anchor. This is a reminder that some good exists here, beneath all the danger and politics.But it also reminds me of everything I left behind.I sit by the window, staring out at the forest, and let myself think about them.Naomi. Bella.Did the letter reach them? Did Cassian's contact actually deliver it, or did it disappear into some pack security protocol I don't understand?Are they worried? Angry? Have they moved on, assuming I abandoned them?The guilt sits heavy in my chest, familiar and sharp.I promised myself I'd protect them by staying away by not dragging them into this world. But the longer I'm here, the more I wonder if silence is protection or just another kind of abandonment.A knock pulls me from my spiral."Come in," I call, not moving from the window.Cassia
*Lilah*The training yard is empty at dawn.That's why I chose it.No audience. No whispers. No wolves watching the human Luna stumble through exercises designed for creatures three times her strength.Just me, the cold morning air, and the punching bag Cassian strung up last week.I hit it.Again. Again. Again.My knuckles ache. My shoulders burn. Sweat drips into my eyes, stinging, blurring my vision.I don't stop.*Tomorrow, I claim ground.*The words from last night echo in my skull, driving each punch.*Their war waits.*I hit harder.The bag swings, creaking on its chain. The impact jolts up my arms into my spine. Pain blossoms across my knuckles—split skin, probably. I'll deal with it later.Right now, I need this.The burn. The focus. The feeling of doing something instead of being done to."Starting without me?"I spin, and the fists raised.Cassian stands at the edge of the yard, arms folded, one eyebrow arched. He's dressed for training—loose clothes, bare feet, hair tied b
*Ronan*The council chamber feels smaller with Jax in it.He sprawls in his chair like he owns the room—one ankle crossed over his knee, fingers drumming a lazy rhythm on the armrest. His wolves flank the doorway, their scents sharp with barely concealed aggression.My wolves line the opposite wall. Cassian at my right shoulder. Leo at my left. The elders clustered at the far end of the table, Malric's white head bent toward Vera as they murmur in voices too low to catch.The air is thick with tension, the kind that makes your skin prickle, and your wolf pace beneath the surface."Trade routes," Jax is saying, his tone light, almost bored. "The northern pass has been problematic for both our packs. Rogue activity is up. Merchants are complaining.""Then patrol it properly," I say flatly. "Your territory, your problem.""Ah, but the rogues don't respect borders." His pale eyes glint with amusement. "They slip through yours as easily as mine. Perhaps a joint patrol would benefit us both
*Ronan*The council chamber smells like old wood and older resentment.I stand at the head of the long table, arms folded, watching the elders file in. Malric takes his usual seat at the far end—the position of a man who wants to see everything and control the conversation from a distance.Six of t
*Lilah* The headache starts before lunch. A slow, familiar throb behind my eyes, like someone’s pressing two cold thumbs into the back of my skull. I’m sitting on the window seat in my room, watching clouds slide past the treetops, when the pain pulses hard enough to blur my vision. “Not now,” I
*Ronan*For a breath, all I can do is stare.Half‑moon grooves scar the floorboards where her nails dug in. Her fingertips are tipped in blunt, half‑formed claws. The air in the room crackles with the echo of her scream.And her eyes—Gold. Not a flicker. Not a trick of the light.A full, predatory
*Ronan*I don't sleep.After Malric's shadow retreats down the corridor, I carry Lilah to the bed, settle her under the blankets, and sit in the chair by the window until the moon sinks and the first gray light bleeds across the sky.She sleeps fitfully. Sometimes, her fingers twitch, nails flicker






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