LOGIN
~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.~ETHAN~ And when I look back, the wolf is already there. Staring right at me. It's as tall as me, with ash-grey fur that catches the moonlight and turns almost silver. The eyes stand out more—emerald, faintly glowing, fixed and aware. It steps forward. The wood groans under the shift in weight. Heavier than it looks. Seventy kilos, at least. Another step. The floor creaks louder this time, the sound stretching through the narrow space like a warning. “Stop,” I say. It does, turning its head towards me, fully focused. “The wood is old,” I add, almost automatically. The wolf blinks. Then its tail gives a slow, controlled wag like it understood exactly what I meant. It's…it's mesmerizing. I don’t move immediately, just watch. The wolf holds where it is, weight even, head level, eyes fixed on me, not pacing, not testing distance, just… waiting. My pulse is already up, shoulders tight. Every instinct wired the wrong way—too alert, too ready to pull back. The howls are still
~ETHAN~ I don't know if it's only at night but this Ridge looks worse. Empty and wrong, too quiet, the wind cutting across the ridge the only sound, colder than it should be, slipping through my jacket and settling deeper the longer I stand here. The post’s barely holding up too, wood worn out, edges rough under my palm, one side creaking every time the wind hits it wrong, a bulb fixed low near the base—dim, flickering like it might give out any second, not doing much anyway cause most of the light comes from the moon, spreading across the ridge in uneven patches and leaving the rest in shadow. Inside the cubicle, there's some water, a chair and a blanket. Only the essentials. I lean against the frame, arms folded, the wood cold even through the fabric, eyes fixed on the stretch ahead, open land, nothing to block the view, nothing to hide behind either. The wind shifts again, carrying dust and something faint under it. I stay still, body too alert, not nerves, just… aware
~NYRA~ “Where is that fucking mutt?!” It doesn’t sound like a voice—it hits, a brutal strike straight to the skull. My step falters, just half a beat, but it’s enough. The Alpha command tears through me, raw and merciless, sinking into bone, demanding obedience before thought can even form. My jaw locks. Behind me, Ethan shifts. He didn’t hear it, but he felt it. Everyone did. The corridor has gone too still, the kind of silence that presses against your ears. Omegas straighten as I pass, eyes dropping instantly, but I catch it—resentment buried under fear. I stop at the office door, my hand hovering for a fraction of a second—not hesitation, calculation—before I knock once and push it open as the door slams against the wall. He’s already on his feet, my uncle doesn’t sit when he’s angry. His presence fills the room before his voice does, thick and suffocating, like the air’s been stripped of oxygen. “Finally.” The word cracks like a whip as his gaze slices past me and lo
~NYRA~ I wake up still. Not burning. Not shaking. Just… still. For a second, I don’t move. I wait for it—for the heat, the pull, that sharp, crawling need to come back and drag me under again. It doesn’t. My breath leaves me slower this time, controlled, and I sit up, testing it. My body answers the way it should—tight, steady, mine. “Goddess,” I exhale and sit up straight, rolling my shoulders once, forcing the stiffness out before it settles, it pulls in places I ignore and move past, the room is empty, no trace of him. Everything else looks normal—and that pisses me off more than it should. I stand, fixing my clothes fast, not stopping, the fabric drags and I shove it off as I reach the door and grab the handle, holding it tight for a second. He’ll say something—throw it in my fucking face, call me pathetic, brag about the favor he did. No. If he wants to stay alive, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Else I’ll make him. I open the door and step into the hallway, f
~NYRA~ “Touch me.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. My chest tightens the second they’re out—sharp, choking— No. It hurts. Not just the heat. Not just this want. It starts lower—tight, coiled—and then it twists. The pain folds in on itself, restless, alive, like something trapped under my skin trying to claw free. Every breath drags it tighter, every shift makes it worse—too much, too raw, too there. My body doesn’t feel like mine. It feels— Wrong. I curl into the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric, trying to ground myself in something—anything—but even that betrays me. The friction sends a shiver up my spine, heat flaring hotter, turning into something unbearable. “Ah—!” My back arches off the bed, fingers clawing into his wrist, knuckles whitening as something twists hard inside me. My thighs press together on instinct, trying—failing—to ease the pressure building under my skin. It only makes it worse. Everything’s too sensitive—too sh
~ETHAN~ Her hands shoot up, clutching my collar. Then her lips crash against mine—hot, sudden and desperate. For a second, I don’t move. My body locks, every instinct misfiring under the sudden heat of her mouth, the way her fingers fist into my collar like she’s holding on to the only solid thing left. She’s burning. I feel it—through fabric, through skin—heat radiating off her in waves that hit me harder than they should. Her grip tightens on my collar, dragging me closer, her mouth pressing harder. My hand shifts—slides up her spine, pulling her in without thinking. And the realization hits like a crack through my bones. What is she doing? What am I doing? This—her kissing— I pull back instantly. Not far—just enough to break it, enough to drag in a breath that still tastes like her. A soft, broken whimper slips from her—low, unguarded— —and it hits me harder than the kiss ever did. It lands somewhere deep, raw, dragging something in my chest tight and wrong. “Nyra.” My







