LOGINElena was just a pack omega - wolfless, powerless, and invisible. But on the night of the Royal Lycan Gala, the impossible happened, the invisible thread of the Moon Goddess snapped, binding her to Alpha King Kaelen, the most ruthless ruler alive. Her joy lasted exactly three seconds before it was ruthlessly shattered. To preserve an important political alliance and save his kingdom from a brewing war, Kaelen looked her dead in the eye and used his crushing Alpha aura to shatter her spirit. "I reject you, Elena of the Crescent Pack." Elena didn't beg. She accepted the broken bond, packed her life into a single suitcase, and fled into the human world. She didn't realize until she crossed the border that the moon goddess had played one final trick—she was already carrying his royal heir. Four years later, Elena is a high-level executive assistant in a well known human metropolis, fiercely protecting her gifted, half-Lycan son, Leo. But when a ruthless northern conglomerate buys out her firm and the unforgettable intoxicating scent of cedar wood and winter frost brings back truths she had forgotten ever existed. Alpha Kaelen has arrived to claim the company. He doesn't recognize his rejected mate in her sharp corporate suit and silver-masked perfume—until he catches the faint, unmistakable scent of frost hidden underneath the metallic silver infused facade….
View MoreThe tectonic hum vibrating through the flagstones of the Northern Keep grew into a deafening roar, shaking the air until our teeth ached. Above us, the jagged tear in the sky widened further, bleeding a sickly violet light across the bruised clouds and throwing long, distorted shadows over the enforcers scrambling along the high battlements.I gripped the hilt of Marcus's broadsword, boots sliding an inch across the trembling stone as a void-chilled gust swept through the bailey. The air tasted like ozone and old dust, with a metallic pressure that sat on my chest like an iron weight."Kaelen!" I shouted over the rising gale. "They're coming through!"He didn't answer right away. He stood rooted in the center of the bailey, braced against the shuddering keep, his molten gold eyes locked on the center of the fracture. The fury radiating off him was so intense it melted the frost forming around his boots, little wisps of steam curling up into the cold."Jaxon!" Kaelen barked, his voice
The heavy iron double doors of the royal council chamber swung open with a slow groan, breaking the tense silence that had hung over the long mahogany table for hours. Jaxon crossed the threshold, his plate armor dulled with dust from the outer bailey, a thick leather-bound ledger tucked under his arm.Kaelen didn't look up from the map spread across the table. He stood at the head of the chamber, shoulders squared, hands flat against the parchment, studying the western ridge where the Obsidian Spire used to stand. The gold fire in his eyes had settled into a steady amber, but the tension in his jaw gave away the sleepless night we'd all just had.I sat to his left, leaning back with a heavy ceramic mug of black coffee cooling between my palms. Leo was down in the royal apartments with a trusted guard detail, but the smoke-entity's words — ‘The True Sovereign has crossed the veil’ — were still echoing in my head, demanding answers the old stones of the keep didn't seem in a hurry to g
The obsidian smoke twisted in the center of the sunlit room, coiling like a living thing that refused to be warmed by the morning light. The temperature in the suite dropped further, frosting the windowpanes, turning our breath into thick plumes of white."Who sent you?" Kaelen's voice vibrated through the floorboards, a low growl that shook the dust motes in the air. The gold fire in his eyes flared so intensely the air around his broadsword shimmered. "The Directorate is gone. The Obsidian Spire is ash."The black shroud hissed, a dry, rattling sound that scraped against the inside of my skull like iron filings dragged across a magnet."The Directorate were children playing with matches in the dark," the shadow rasped, its voice layered with hollow echoes that seemed to come from somewhere very far away. "They believed the void-magic was theirs to command. They believed the boy was a battery for their petty political ambitions. They were blind. The True Sovereign does not seek a thr
The golden sunlight of a crisp autumn morning poured through the newly repaired arched windows of the royal suite, warming the oak floorboards and chasing off the last chill of the mountain night. Outside, the Northern Keep was alive with the steady hum of reconstruction. Hammers driving nails into timber, the low murmur of guards patrolling the outer battlements drifting up from the bailey below — it sounded less like prep work for war and more like the everyday soundtrack of a home being put back together.I stood by the vanity table, unpinning the tactical straps from my shoulders and letting the heavy leather vest drop to the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in four years, my shoulders felt light. No hidden weapons, no silver daggers strapped to my calves, no scanning every doorway for a shadow in a weeping-wolf mask.Across the room, Leo was curled up in the center of the mahogany bed. He'd woken up an hour ago, demanded three bowls of honeyed porridge and a stack of pi
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