Mag-log inZeva’s life shattered the night her mate, Alpha Darian of the East, rejected her in front of his pack. Cast aside as unworthy and stripped of her future, the Omega was bartered away like a pawn, her fate sealed in a cruel bargain. Now, she belongs to Aric Veylor—the ruthless Alpha of the North. Cold as the frozen lands he rules, Aric has no use for weak Omegas except as breeders, and Zeva, being his first, is delivered to his pack as nothing more than his breeder bride. But Zeva refuses to break quietly. Beneath her scars lies a strength he never expected, and her defiance sparks dangerous consequences in a world already divided by power, betrayal, and blood. When an Omega is traded into the arms of the most feared Alpha alive, will she survive as his breeder bride… or will her defiance ignite a storm that could consume them both?
view moreZeva’s POVThe corridor behind the training hall felt colder than usual, the stone walls humming with leftover tension from the pack’s public outburst. My pulse hadn’t settled. Jacob’s accusation still echoed in my ears,Aric has neglected you… manipulated you… refused you…,and the pack’s erupting whispers left a sting I couldn’t scrub off.I didn’t realize someone was following me until a hand slammed beside my head.“Zeva.”Jacob’s voice slid through the air like a blade.I stiffened but didn’t shrink. “Move. I’m not in the mood for more theatrics.”He stepped into my space, blocking the only exit, blue eyes burning with something unsteady and dangerous. “You think that was theatrics?” he scoffed. “No. That was the truth. And the pack needed to hear it.”“You blindsided us all,” I snapped. “You humiliated the Alpha.”“I protected you.” His jaw clenched. “Someone had to.”My stomach tightened. The corridor stretched long and empty,too empty. My training aches pulsed under my skin like
Zeva’s POVI didn’t realize anything was wrong until the courtyard fell silent.I had just stepped out of the training hall, still aching from Roxie’s brutal morning drills, when the sound rippled through the air—voices stopping mid-sentence, chairs scraping against stone, warriors stiffening like they sensed an incoming storm.Then I saw him.Jacob Veylor stood at the center of the gathering grounds, shoulders squared, his dark hair pulled back in that easy, too-confident way of his. He had the kind of smile that didn’t belong in the North—warm, charming, almost reckless.But there was nothing warm in his expression now.Aric stood opposite him, posture rigid, jaw clenched, power radiating off him in waves sharp enough to cut air. His wolf was close—felt like frost rising from the ground itself.Jacob’s eyes shifted to me, and the corners of his lips lifted in a provocation that made my stomach knot.“This ends today,” Jacob said. His voice rang out, bold and unafraid. “I challenge y
Zeva’s POVThe air in the Northern packhouse was heavy, thick with unspoken tension and the lingering scent of pine and burning wood. I had avoided Aric all day, keeping to the shadows of the library and the corridors where whispers and curious eyes could not reach me. But he found me anyway, as he always did, his presence impossible to ignore, impossible to evade.He appeared silently at the library doorway, hands tucked behind his back, coat brushing the floor. The light caught his profile,jaw clenched, eyes sharp, wolf coiled under his skin like a living thing,and I felt the old pulse of heat in my chest. The bond flared violently, a warning and a pull all at once, and I clenched my fists to keep from responding, to keep from running.“Zeva,” he said, voice low, almost careful, yet edged with that dangerous authority that always made my wolf shiver. “We need to talk. Now.”I looked up from the book I had been pretending to read, trying not to betray the racing of my heart. “About w
Zeva’s POVThe moon was thin that night, a silver sickle hanging low in the sky, barely illuminating the snow-dusted paths of the Northern pack territory. My boots crunched against the frozen earth as I returned from a late training session, muscles screaming in protest, my wolf coiled like a spring beneath my skin. The shadows of the trees stretched long, jagged, and I felt them whisper around me, alive.I had gone too long thinking myself safe inside the packhouse, that my nightly routines and careful steps kept me away from danger. But the moment I passed the broken remnants of the old training grounds, I knew something was wrong. A rustle of leather, a whisper of movement, a shadow shifting where there should be none.Before I could react fully, a figure leapt from the darkness, hands wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me backward with terrifying force. My breath caught in my throat, a scream choking in my chest. The attacker’s weight pressed me to the ground, and panic surged h
Zeva’s POVThe day Lorene arrived, the packhouse felt smaller, more suffocating, as though her presence bent the walls closer. Even the northern sun seemed to hesitate at the windows, casting cold, long shadows over the stone floors. I tried to focus on my routine, on training, on anything to keep
Zeva’s POVI should have known the day would sour the moment the wind shifted, bringing in a scent I didn’t recognize. Strong, masculine, threaded with crushed pine needles and something sharper. Something that didn’t belong here.I stood near the temporary archway the pack had built for the ceremo
Zeva’s POV The announcement hit the packhouse before dawn floating through hallways, drifting between whispers, sliding under doors like poison gas.The readiness test has been delayed. Not canceled. Not reconsidered. Just… delayed. By the time I reached the lower corridor, the murmurs were alread
Zeva’s POVThey say the Northern Packhouse has no warm rooms. No places that feel safe. No corners untouched by power or fear.I once thought it was an exaggeration.Now I know better.Word travels fast here—faster than breath, sharper than claws. By dawn, everyone already knows.The new breeder br






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