LOGINThe hall erupted into a frenzy of deafening cheers.
It felt like someone had just slammed an iron hammer straight into my chest. All the air left my lungs in an instant. My head spun so violently that I had to grab the wooden wall behind me just to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me. No... no, this is a mistake... he promised me... Elodia gasped in fake surprise, placing a delicate, manicured hand over her heart. She turned her head to look back at me, a triumphant, malicious grin spreading across her painted lips. Then she glided up the stage steps, her green silk dress rustling softly against the wood. Torren pulled Elodia close by her slender waist. He wrapped his strong arms around her and kissed her deeply right in front of the entire pack. The crowd went wild, howling and stomping their feet. Matriarch Vespera clapped her hands furiously, her face glowing with greedy, selfish pride. "They look perfect together!" a pack matron shouted nearby. "A true Alpha deserves a gorgeous, slender Luna!" I stood completely frozen against the wall. My hands were ice cold, shaking uncontrollably. My chest felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside out. He lied to me. Every word... every gentle touch... every late-night promise... it was all a cruel lie. Onstage, Torren raised his hands to quiet the crowd. The hall settled down, eager to hear their new Alpha speak. Torren pointed a long, calloused finger directly at me, standing alone in the shadows near the back wall. "I know some of you were wondering about this one," Torren said, his voice dripping with cruel, arrogant mockery. Laughter began to ripple through the front rows of nobles. "Vaelira thought she actually had a chance with me," Torren continued, laughing aloud into the silent room. "Look at her! She’s thick, ugly, and built like a plow horse! She’s lazy, she has no talent, and she’s completely worthless to this pack. Did she really think an Alpha would want a fat maid in his bed?" The entire hall burst into brutal, hysterical laughter. People turned around on their benches to point their fingers directly at my face. "Look at her!" a warrior roared with laughter. "She actually thought she was going to be Luna!" "She’d break the throne if she sat on it!" another yelled. My cheeks burned with a searing, unbearable heat. My eyes stung violently, hot tears threatening to spill down my face. But I dug my fingernails deep into the palms of my hands, piercing the skin until I felt wet blood trickling down my fingers. No, I swore to myself, biting the inside of my cheek until I tasted iron. I will not cry. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I locked my knees so my legs wouldn't shake. I held my head high, staring straight ahead with cold, silent eyes, refusing to let a single tear drop. I looked over at my mother, silently begging for a shred of human decency. But Vespera wasn't protecting me. She was laughing harder than anyone else, pointing at her own daughter with total contempt. Elodia leaned her head against Torren’s chest, giggling softly as she watched me stand alone in my humiliation. Torren smirked, thoroughly enjoying the power of trying to crush me into the dirt. He raised his voice over the roaring laughter. "I formally reject Vaelira!" Torren yelled. "She is a burden to my pack. So I give her away! If any male in this room wants this fat, useless wolf, take her right now! Take her, feed her, or use her as a servant—I don't care! She is worth nothing!" Cruel jokes and wolfish howls filled the air. Yet I did not bow my head. I did not drop my gaze. I stood like a stone statue in the middle of their cruel storm, clutching my bleeding palms tightly. "No takers?" Torren mocked, shaking his head with a theatrical sigh. "Not even for a single copper coin? Then she can go sleep outside in the dirt with the wild dogs—" "I will take her." The voice was low, deep, and quiet. Yet, it cut through the roaring laughter of three hundred wolves like a heavy iron blade slicing through silk. The entire hall fell dead silent. At the back of the room, right beside the heavy wooden exit doors, a massive figure stepped out from the shadows.The air in the study felt charged, humming with an electric warmth that made my skin prickle.I stood frozen against Malakor’s broad chest, my hand still resting trembling against the golden mark on my neck. The initial sharp sting of his fangs had faded, replaced by a deep, throbbing heat that seeped right into my pulse.It wasn't just a mark on my skin, I could feel him.A steady, comforting hum thrummed in the back of my chest, anchored directly to his heart. When his breathing slowed, a wave of calm washed over my own panicked nerves, dulling the sharp edges of my panic.We are bound, my inner wolf whispered, stirring gently beneath my ribs. In all my years, I had never felt so alive .I looked up into his face. The blinding, luminous gold in his eyes was slowly receding, melting back into his familiar warm amber. His large hands remained resting on my waist, keeping my broad frame anchored safely against him."Are you in pain?" Malakor asked, his voice low, rough, and laced with
My throat locked up. I stared at High King Malakor, my heart hammering like a trapped bird in my ribcage."Again ?" I choked out, trying to pull my hand back from his warm grip. "Your Majesty, I can't! I'm scared. I don't know anything about being a Queen, or a Luna, or... or anything in this palace!""What are you afraid of, Vaelira?" Malakor asked softly. He didn't let go of my hand. His hold was gentle, but completely unyielding."Everything!" Tears of overwhelming fear burned the back of my eyes. "What about my old pack? What about Torren? He rejected me in front of everyone. He made me the laughingstock of the territory. If he finds out—""Torren is a pathetic boy who threw away a treasure because he was too blind to see its worth," Malakor cut in, his voice dropping into a low, deadly rumble. "He chose your sister, he cast you out into the dark. You owe him nothing, you owe that wretched pack nothing."He took a step closer, towering over me. The heat radiating from his broad bo
Vaelira I didn't sleep a single second. I spent the entire night sitting on the edge of the massive, feather-soft bed, my knees pulled tightly against my chest. Every shadow on the wall looked like a crouching monster. Every creak of the heavy oak floorboards made my stomach twist into a knot. I kept waiting for someone to drag me back to the cold kitchen, or worse, to tell me the Lycan King’s mercy was all a sick joke. When the first morning light filtered through the velvet curtains, a soft, polite knock sounded at the door. I flinched, pulling the thick blanket up to my chin. "W-Who is it?" The heavy door creaked open. A young maid with a warm smile stepped inside, followed by two others carrying armfuls of silk, silver combs, and steaming brass pitchers of water. Outside in the hallway, two massive guards in black armor stood rigidly at attention, keeping their eyes trained on the corridor. "Good morning, my Lady," the head maid said, bowing her head deeply. "I am Sarah. Hi
Malakor's POV The heavy oak doors of my private study closed, shutting out the quiet hum of the palace corridors. I walked over to the stone hearth, unbuckling my broadsword and placing it on the rack beside the fire. The flames crackled, casting long, dancing shadows across the mahogany desk and the parchment maps spread across the table. Footsteps echoed from the far corner of the room. Kael, my right-hand man and chief commander, stepped out of the shadows. He bowed his head low, his dark leather armor worn from managing palace security while I was away inspecting the border posts. "You returned late, Your Majesty," Kael said respectfully. He looked at me with sharp, inquisitive eyes. "And the guards say you did not return alone." "I brought a guest," I replied, pouring two cups of warm spiced wine from the clay pitcher on my desk. I handed one to him. "She is staying in the grand suite." Kael took the cup, his dark eyebrows pulling together in immediate confusion. "A guest
Vaelira's POV My knees buckled. I stared at the man standing in front of me as my mind shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. The dusty brown cloak lay in the snow at his feet. Underneath it, his black tunic was stitched with silver thread, framing a broad chest and an intimidating, regal frame. The man who had held my chapped hand in the dark carriage wasn't a bandit. He wasn't a traveler. He was High King Malakor. The Lycan King. The supreme ruler of Volca-Crest. Around us, dozens of elite warriors clad in heavy black steel dropped to both knees. Their armor clanked loudly against the white marble courtyard, every single head bowed in absolute submission. Panic surged through me, hot and suffocating. I had spoken to him like an equal. I had complained, bitter and ungrateful, right to the face of the most powerful wolf alive. I scrambled backward, my knees hitting the freezing marble as I dropped into a desperate, messy bow. I pressed my face toward the ground, my body trem
She hesitated, looking back at her mother, who was mouthing hateful words, and at Torren, who glared down at her with cold annoyance. She realized she had nothing left in this place but misery. Taking a shaky breath, Vaelira raised her hand and placed her rough fingers into my palm. The moment her skin touched mine, a sharp spark of raw energy surged straight up my arm, thrumming deep in my chest. My wolf stirred inside me, locking its focus entirely on her. I closed my fingers gently around hers—firm enough to let her know she was secure, but soft enough not to hurt her. "Let's go," I whispered. I turned, leading her down the aisle toward the heavy exit doors. "Stop right there!" Torren shouted from the stage, his voice laced with wounded pride. "You think you can just take her and walk away without paying respects to the Alpha?" I paused near the door, keeping my back to him. "You discarded her, Alpha," I said coldly, my tone leaving zero room for argument. "She is no longer







