LOGINNyra Lopez is the first female Alpha to fight for her claim. A woman, an Alpha? The Council mocked her. But her father’s last words burned into her soul— “Protect them, Nyra. Be the Alpha they deserve.” She was ready to fight the world for her pack. What she wasn’t ready for… was him. Ethan Cross. A human. A wolf-hunter. Her fated mate. A man whose hatred for her kind burns hotter than fire— and yet, whose touch sets her soul ablaze. He was supposed to fear her. She was supposed to hate him. Instead, he looked at her with fire, questioned her command, and touched her like no man ever dared. But when secrets unravel, Nyra learns Ethan is more than just a human, and her own uncle—the Alpha who raised her—would rather see them both dead than let the prophecy come true. Now Nyra must make an impossible choice: Her mate… or her throne?
View More~NYRA~
“You're a woman. Not an Alpha, Nyra!” “I completed my Alpha training, Uncle. I am an Alpha.” “Completed?” Uncle Daniel snickered, his eyes narrowing with mockery. “The other heirs let you tag along because you’re a girl.” “For fuck’s sake!” My voice cracked through the office. “I am the firstborn of this pack!” “Nyra Lopez!” His palm slammed against the wooden desk, splinters rattling loose. The sound cracked through the silence like thunder. “You’re speaking to the Alpha of this pack.” His voice vibrated with his Alpha aura—heavy, pressing, choking the air. But it slid right off me, powerless. Another proof I was worthy to lead. Another point he chose to ignore. All because I was born with a pair of boobs. “Whatever, uncle,” I muttered, spinning on my heel. His voice chased me down the hall, dripping with command. “Nyra! You better behave—” I slammed my bedroom door. The scent of fake lavender and roses smothered me. My eyes burned with rage as I looked around—pink curtains, floral cushions, porcelain vases. A room screaming “princess,” not “Alpha.” A snarl left me, as I tore the curtains down, yanked the vase off the table and smashed it against the wall. Shards glittered on the floor like broken lies. I sank into the couch—pink and fluffy, mocking me. Two years of sweat, blood, and bruises in Alpha training. And this? This is what waited for me? A cage painted pink. A reminder. Woman. Woman. Woman. That's all they fucking saw. They won't allow an Alpha to claim his pack without his mate, but then they say women are useless. Fucking hypocrites. The door creaked open. “Uh,” I groaned. “Not now, Aaron.” “Chill, Alpha.” My cousin strolled in like he owned the place. His gaze swept the wreckage. “Sixteen-inch table, curtains, vase. You didn’t throw it through the window, did you? Please tell me the glass is still intact.” “Idiot.” I rolled my eyes, though my lips twitched despite myself. Aaron flopped onto the couch beside me, elbows resting on his knees. “You and Dad should argue on the training grounds.” “Why?” “So you don’t waste the pack’s funds,” he deadpanned, pointing to the wreckage. I barked out a humorless laugh. “Are you serious?” “I am. Every time you two ‘talk,’ pack property dies. Open ground is safer.” “If you’re so concerned, why don’t you talk to him?” “Leave me out of it.” He raised his hands like I’d drawn claws. “Alpha training?” I smirked. His sigh was heavy enough to flatten him into the couch. “Don’t remind me. I don’t even want to be Alpha, Nyra. Why the hell should I waste two years away?” “Uncle thinks you’d be the next Alpha.” “He wants me to be." He groaned. "But you’re here. You’ve done it. It should be you.” “But. I. Am. A. Woman.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “Are you even a girl?” he deadpanned. “The fuck, Aaron?” “I mean, why—” My glare shut him up. “They think you’ll find your mate and move to his pack,” he muttered. “Why does everyone assume I’ll leave?” I shot back. “He can move here. If he wants me.” “Because if he’s an Alpha, you’ll automatically be a Luna.” “I am an Alpha.” I growled. “Jesus, I know.” He groaned. “I want you to be Alpha more than anyone.” He brightened suddenly. “Wait—I’ve got it. What if your mate’s, like… an old man? You could be Alpha and Luna. And if he complains—” his grin widened—“you could just fuck his brain out—” “Aaron!” The book I hurled smacked his forehead with a satisfying thunk. “Ow!” He rubbed the spot. “That was just an idea!” “Keep it in your idiotic brain,” I muttered, pushing to my feet. “Where are you going?” “Alphas don’t answer.” I smirked before vaulting out the window. The training grounds blurred past as I shifted mid-run. My bones snapped, stretched, reshaped until fur rippled across my skin. Nina, my wolf, burst free with a howl, her white-grey coat flashing under the fading light. Freedom. At last. The evening air kissed our fur, cool and sharp. My paws pounded the dirt, each step echoing with the rhythm of power. Patrol wolves dipped their heads as we passed. “It’s me,” I mind-linked, and they returned to duty. We ran for hours until the wind roared in our ears and the forest swallowed the world whole. For a while, it was just us—wild, alive, untouchable. Until the scent hit. Rot. Musk. Blood. Nina slowed, ears pricking. My pulse kicked. Rogues. Three… no, four. Nina’s growl thundered in my chest. 'Let’s remind them whose land this is.' “Oh, you bet,” she snarled back. Nina crouched low, claws digging into soil. The forest hummed, every sound louder in her ears—the rustle of leaves, the shift of paws, the sharp bite of rogue stench. The first wolf broke cover, yellow eyes gleaming. I lunged, muscles coiling like springs, claws flashing for its throat— Bang! The crack split the air like lightning. Fire tore through my right leg, hot and blinding. I crashed into the ground, the taste of dirt and blood flooding my tongue. Pain radiated outward, throbbing with each frantic beat of my heart. We rolled, snarling, Nina’s growl reverberating through my bones. I forced myself up, but my paw trembled, slick with blood. A bullet. My head snapped up. Not a rogue. A man. A human with a gun aimed at me, his eyes steady, his stance unyielding. Behind him, the rogues slunk back, letting him lead. Cowards. Hiding behind a pathetic human. Nina snarled low. “We don’t kill unless we have to,” I reminded her. His finger tightened on the trigger again. We launched. Dodging the shot by inches and landing behind him, claws raised. My fangs grazed his throat, seconds from tearing him apart. Then his scent slammed into me—earth and smoke. My body locked mid-strike. My wolf froze with me. “Mate,” Nina whispered, awe tangled with fury.~NYRA~ “What took you this long—” The words never make it out. They die the second the window slides open, and I’m hit by a strong wave of earth and smoke. Him. Not Aaron. Bare skin meets the dawn’s cold—his chest pale in the low blue light, hair tousled like sleep tried and failed to claim him. Yet his eyes are sharp. Too focused. Awake in a way that has nothing to do with morning. The ledge beneath my boots is cold, slick with early dew. I don’t move. Can’t. One wrong shift and I’d slip—down the stone, into the quiet below. Or closer. The wind cuts through me, threading under my jacket, raising goosebumps along my arms. It smells like pine, damp earth, and—unmistakably—him. My fingers curl instinctively against the stone. My pulse stutters, loud in my ears, racing down my spine and into my hands. For a breathless second, the world narrows to the space between us—the open window, the cold air, the thin line of control I’m gripping like the edge of the ledge itself. And I
~ETHAN~ “So… you two will be sleeping together?” “No!” “Never!” Her voice cuts over mine—sharp, absolute, leaving no room for negotiation. For a split second, her eyes snap to me. And then they’re gone again. She’s been doing that. Looking—then retreating. Like eye contact itself is a line she refuses to cross twice. Aaron lets out a nervous laugh, the kind people make when they don’t know what else to do. One look from her shuts him down instantly. His mouth snaps closed. His shoulders stiffen. Why does he fear her? She’s just a woman. A dangerous one—sure. Too fast. Too sure of herself. But still just a woman. I’ve watched him take down five men without hesitation. He's strong. So why does one look from her freeze him where he stands? “Then he’ll sleep on the couch,” Aaron says. “Or—the rug. We can’t let him sleep on the floor.” “There’s no need,” she says, tone final. Not raised. Not harsh. Just decided. Just her. “He’ll stay here… with you.” “Wh
~NYRA~ He leans in… closing the only gap between us. And then I feel him — hard, undeniable. The world slams still. A jolt surges through me — heat, anger, hunger — all at once. My breath stutters. My instinct roars. I wrench free, twisting out of his grip with force and fury, stumbling as my back hits the shower wall. I need this distance to breathe again. Without looking at him, I snatch the towel, wrap it around myself, and step away—putting inches, air, sanity between us. Only then do I look back. Ethan stands there, chest heaving, hair dripping into eyes that are dark and reckless and still hungry with something he doesn’t understand. Steam coils around him like it’s trying to drag him back toward me. I shut that possibility down with a single breath. “Don’t try that again.” My voice is crisp, steady, unshaken despite everything burning under my skin. And I walk out, leaving him in the heat, in the chokehold of almost, in the moment neither of us will
~NYRA~ “Ethan.” His name leaves me like a blade—sharp, clean, meant to cut. Steam coils around us in thick, rolling waves, turning the shower into something small and suffocating. A cage. A battlefield. The water beats down my back, hot and merciless, and every drop that hits my skin feels like, somehow, it echoes inside him too. He stands in front of me—drenched, cornered, rigid with rage he doesn’t have space to put down. His chest rises against my forearm—slow, deliberate—like a test of how far I can go before I snap. And the worst part? I am hyper aware of everything. Every pulse thundering under his skin. Every stutter in his breath. Every wrong, impossible thread of the bond humming beneath my ribs, sharpening my senses until the entire world narrows down to a single focus. Him. His eyes lock on mine—bright, fevered, defiant. “Why the fuck are you attacking me?” he rasps, voice cracked and unsteady. My grip tightens on instinct—then slips, fractionally, like even m






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