LOGINThe lock on the door didn't just click; it thudded. It was the sound of two men losing their minds because their favorite toy had developed a mind of its own.I paced the length of the fur rug, my cloak discarded on the bed. I could hear them whispering in the hallway—the low, vibrating rumble of Kieran’s growl and the sharp, clinical tone of Rowan’s counter-arguments. They weren't fighting about the Shadow Pack anymore. They were fighting about me.When the door finally opened, they didn't come in alone. Two guards took up positions outside, and the Alphas stepped in, shutting the world out behind them.Kieran looked like he was vibrating. The air around him felt hot, thick with the scent of a thunderstorm. Rowan was the opposite, cold, poised, and terrifyingly observant. He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit."Sit down, Iris," Rowan said. It wasn't a suggestion.I sat. I didn't have much of a choice. Kieran hovered behind me like a dark cloud, his hands resting on the bac
The morning dragged on with agonizing slowness. Every time the heavy clock in the hallway chimed, I felt a jolt of anxiety. I knew the timeline. Right now, in the Great Hall, the elders were whispering about my "strange behavior," and Kieran and Rowan were likely one word away from shifting and tearing the table in half.The Author loved this part. It was supposed to be the "clash of kings," where their obsession with me made them sloppy. But while they were measuring their egos against each other, the back gate of the stronghold was usually left poorly guarded. That was how the spy got in."My Lady, you are pacing again," Lena said, her voice full of worry. She was folding laundry near the bed, watching me with wide eyes. "Perhaps a bath would help? I can bring up the lavender oils.""No time for lavender, Lena," I said, stopping at the balcony edge.I looked down into the courtyard. I could see the guards milling about. They were bored. They thought they were safe behind stone walls
I woke up before the sun was fully over the mountains. For a few seconds, I forgot where I was. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, expecting to feel the plastic case and the tangle of my charger cord. My hand hit cold stone and the rough edge of a wooden table instead.The memory of the void and the Author’s cold face rushed back. I sat up quickly, my heart thumping against my ribs. The silk sheets felt too smooth, too expensive. The room was silent, but it was a heavy kind of silence. I looked at the two doors that led to the Alphas’ rooms. They were closed, but the air in the suite felt charged.I got out of bed and walked to the window. The valley was covered in a thick, white mist. In my first life, I thought it looked like a fairy tale. Now, I knew that mist was a perfect place for an ambush. I felt a wave of crushed hope. I was really here. I was back in Kieran's stronghold, the place that had become my gilded cage.I was hungry, but it was a sharp, angry kind of hunger.
A Drag PathThe walk to the stronghold felt like a journey through a dream I had already survived. In my first life, I had spent this trek in a daze of confusion, barely noticing how the trees changed from oak to ancient, towering pines. Now, every snap of a twig made my heart skip a beat. I stayed tucked between Rowan and Kieran, a small space of safety in a world that wanted me dead.The silence between the two men was thick and heavy. They did not look at each other, but they moved with a rhythm that showed years of shared history. Even if that history was built on blood, they knew how to move as one unit. Occasionally, Rowan would reach out to steady me over a root, his touch lingering just a second too long on my arm. Then Kieran would pause to scent the air, his shoulder brushing against mine as if to remind me he was there too. They were both on high alert, not just because of the wolves in the woods, but because of me.By the time the stone walls of the stronghold appeared thr
SAMANTHA'S POV There she was, confused, emotional, and vulnerable, baring her heart and feelings, and all my insecurities to him, and he was laughing. With her, not at her, although that didn't make things any better. Samantha stared at the infuriating man lounging behind her in the tub like they were at a spa retreat instead of a declaration of war he was trying to seduce her out of. She spun around so fast the water sloshed up the tiled walls, her knees hitting his thigh under the surface of the water. "What's her name?" Jason tilted his head innocently, like he'd said the most normal thing in the world, like she'd just asked him what time it was instead of if he'd hired another mystery woman. A lazy smile tugged at his mouth, his fingers were still in her hair, slowly dragging through the wet strands as if she were some tame pet. "I'm not telling you," he said. He wasn't being defensive or apologetic; he was just amused. Having the time of his life toying with her emotions.
Jason blinked once, slowly. His body was still on fire from her touch, blood still pulsing hard from the feel of her straddling him. Her panties were soaked against the thin fabric of his boxers. Her hair framed her face like a halo, her lips slightly parted, and whether from exertion or anger, he couldn’t tell. But her eyes…Her eyes were cold and dead. “I don’t have a mistress,” Jason said carefully, his voice low and controlled, thinking fast. “You know that.”He was by no means a perfect man, but he knew he'd had no other woman besides Samantha since their reunion, despite the dozens of times he'd been tempted. So what the hell was she going on about? He briefly wondered if this was another one of Marcus's plans to sabotage him by planting thoughts in her head that would bring mistrust and cause them to break up.Not that he would ever let her leave him anyway, she was his until the day they died. But he still couldn't shake the thought from his head.Her brow lifted slowly, "L







