LOGINBecca gritted her teeth as she half-dragged, half-carried the unconscious man inside her clinic.
He was much heavier than she had expected, his body packed with thick muscle beneath the robes he wore. Her arms ached, but she didn’t stop—not when his fevered skin burned against hers, not when she felt the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. Without hesitation, she put him onto her table. As she attempted to remove his clothes, a scent drifted toward her—faint but unmistakable. Her entire body froze. No… That scent. It was familiar. Too familiar. Her stomach twisted violently, nausea rising in her throat. It smelled like him. Like Alpha Desmond. A scent she had spent months trying to forget. A scent that haunted her nightmares. A scent that had once made her heart race with longing, only to now make her sick with anger. She stumbled back, her breath shallow. Was it him? Had Desmond come here in disguise? Had he—? No. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to think rationally. The scent was similar, but not identical. Desmond’s scent had been sharper, filled with authority and arrogance. This man’s scent was… different. More rugged. Worn down by pain and exhaustion. Still, her hands trembled as she reached for his hood. She needed to see his face. She hesitated for a brief moment, then pulled the hood down. Her breath hitched. The man was stunning. Even in unconsciousness, his features were sharp—his jaw strong, his lips full, his dark lashes long against his pale skin. His short, dark hair was filled with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead. He was maybe a warrior because his body was sculpted with power, each muscle defined even beneath the injuries. Becca shook herself. Focus. She pulled the rest of the robe away, revealing the true extent of his wounds. Her eyes widened at the deep injury across his side. The wound was swollen, the flesh surrounding it turning an unnatural shade of purple. Poison. Her instincts kicked in. She grabbed her medical supplies—a sharp knife, clean bandages, herbal paste, and a vial of antidote she had prepared for venomous wounds. Without wasting time, she cut away his clothes around the injury, exposing the infected area. Her fingers moved quickly, her training taking over as she carefully cleaned the wound. She ground a mixture of healing herbs, pressing the paste into the open cut before injecting the antidote into his bloodstream. The poison would have killed him within hours if she had not acted. But now, he would live. She was sure of it. Just as Becca was finishing her work, the clinic door creaked open. “Becca, I’m so sorry!” Becca clenched her jaw. Mira. Her assistant was late. Again. Mira rushed inside, her breathless voice filling the room. She was a few years younger than Becca and had a habit of running late. Becca shot her a glare. “Mira, do you even understand what ‘being on time’ means?” Mira winced. “I know, I know! But listen, I had a really good reason this time—” “No excuse,” Becca snapped, wiping her bloodied hands on a cloth. “What if I had needed your help with a patient?” Mira’s gaze drifted past Becca to the unconscious man on the table. Her eyes widened. “Bless the moon, who is that?!” She exclaimed. Becca exhaled, exhaustion creeping into her bones. “I don’t know.” Mira stepped closer, examining him with wide eyes. “Okay, but… where did he come from? He’s—wow. He’s ridiculously handsome.” Becca rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mira, very helpful observation.” Mira ignored her sarcasm. “He’s injured. How did this happen?” “I found him outside,” Becca muttered, rubbing her temples. “He collapsed. I couldn’t just leave him there.” Mira’s excitement disappeared, replaced by unease. “Becca… what if he’s from a rival pack?” Becca crossed her arms. “I don’t care where he’s from.” Mira gaped. “You should care! What if he’s dangerous?” Becca’s voice hardened. “I don’t pick and choose who I heal, Mira. If someone is hurt, I help them.” Mira chewed on her lip, clearly unconvinced. “I just think we should be careful. What if—” A loud bang on the clinic door made them both jump. The door burst open. Five men stormed inside. Becca’s stomach sank. Guards. They wore the dark armor of the pack’s enforcers, their expressions cold and unyielding. Becca straightened her spine. “If you’ve come to demand more taxes, tell Alpha Desmond I have nothing left to give.” The tallest guard smirked. “We’re not here for taxes.” Becca’s brow furrowed. “Then why are you here?” The guard stepped forward, his presence suffocating. “By the order of Alpha Desmond, you are under arrest.” Becca blinked. “What?” Mira gasped. “Wait—what do you mean? She hasn’t done anything wrong!” The guard ignored her, grabbing Becca’s arm. Becca pulled herself free. “Tell me why I’m being arrested" she demanded. The guards didn’t answer. Instead, they sneered. “Why should an Omega question us?” “Rejected by an Alpha and still thinks she matters.” “Pathetic.” Anger flared inside Becca. “If you don’t give me a reason, I’m not going anywhere.” The lead guard grabbed her wrist harshly, pulling her toward the door. “You don’t have a choice.” Mira lunged forward, trying to remove the guard off. “Leave her alone!” Another guard seized Mira by the arm. Mira kicked and struggled. “Let go of me!” Becca fought against her captor, her voice sharp. “Why are you taking her?” The guard chuckled. “You were talking too much. Thought you could use some company in the dungeons.” Becca’s heart pounded. “Dungeons?” Panic clawed at her throat. Then— One of the guards noticed the unconscious man on the table. His expression changed instantly. “What the hell—?” he took another look at Becca. "You're in even bigger trouble." The lead guard narrowed his eyes. “Take him too.” Becca’s stomach dropped. “No!” She stepped protectively in front of the injured man, her instincts screaming. The guard shoved her aside. She crashed against the wall, pain exploding through her shoulder. Before she could recover, two guards lifted the unconscious man from the table. Becca’s breath caught. She didn’t even know who he was. And now… They were all being taken. As the guards dragged her, Mira, and the stranger out of the clinic, Becca’s mind raced. What did Alpha Desmond want with her? And who the hell was the man she had just saved?Mira had not slept. Her body had lain on the thin mattress in the servants’ quarters, her eyes closed, her breathing slow enough to fool anyone watching but her mind had stayed awake thinking about that scent that had seemed familiar.She could still feel it in her nose and no matter how hard she tried, she could not place it.She had turned from one side to the other until the straw-stuffed mattress crackled beneath her. The other maids had long since fallen asleep, their soft snores rising and falling in uneven rhythm, but Mira had remained trapped inside her thoughts.Her eyes had opened to the faint gray of dawn long before the bell rang to signal morning duties. She did not feel rested, rather she felt wired or alert in the worst way possible.The morning light spilling into the servants’ quarters did nothing to ease the tension in her chest. Dust floated lazily in the air, visible in the pale beams that slipped through the high windows.She rose when the bell rang, moving with
Seraphina stood on the stone path like a queen looking at trespassers on sacred ground. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, catching on the gold embroidery of her gown and giving her an almost radiant presence, but there was nothing warm in her eyes. The breeze stirred the hedges gently, but the air between them felt still.Hadrian had paused mid-step when she called out to him, his body caught between leaving and being commanded to stay. His posture remained straight, his shoulders squared with quiet dignity. Even stripped of his title, there was something about him that still commanded respect.Becca stood slightly beside him, her chin lifted, her spine straight despite everything pressing down on her. Ariel lingered behind her nervously, ĥer fingers twisting together as she sensed the storm brewing.Seraphina’s gaze swept over the three of them slowly.“You have remarkable boldness, for someone who has already lost everything” she said calmly.Hadrian did not bow.“I hav
The garden had grown quieter after Hadrian arrived, as if even the birds understood that what passed between them should not be interrupted.Becca’s throat tightened instantly as her mind fully registered the weight of Hadrian’s question.Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as she looked down at her lap.“I last saw him at the resistance hideout before everything fell apart” she said quietly. Hadrian leaned slightly closer, his face filled with concern.“Tell me everything you remember.”Becca swallowed hard.“We were talking about me coming to a rendezvous point after he was done with his meeting. He hadn’t wanted me to come with because of the risk but i did anyway” she admitted.A faint, knowing smile touched Hadrian’s lips. “That sounds familiar.”She nodded. “He constantly said how I might be in danger if i left the safe house and followed him to the resistance but I told him it didn't care if it was too dangerous. Mira and Max agreed with me and he hated that.”“E
The garden was the only place in Blackwood that still felt normal.Becca stood barefoot in the damp grass, her toes sinking slightly into the soft earth as the early morning chill crept up her legs. The cold should have bothered her, but it didn’t. She welcomed it because it reminded her she was still alive, still capable of feeling something that wasn’t fear or rage.She reached out and brushed her fingers over the petals of a pale night blooming rose, one of the few that still dared to open at dawn. Dew clung to the flower, each drop catching the faint morning light before sliding down onto her skin.It felt cool, fragile and temporary, just like everything else here.Becca closed her eyes and for a brief, dangerous moment, she let herself imagine she wasn’t trapped inside enemy walls. She imagined the towering stone structures behind her weren’t cages carved to look like royalty and that she wasn’t a prisoner dressed in silk to hide her chains.The garden smelled of rich soil, cr
The chambers of Alpha King Desmond were already awake long before the rest of Blackwood Mansion.Desmond stood near the tall mirror carved into the far wall, shirtless, his arms slightly raised as Jack fastened the last clip of his formal breakfast coat.His expression in the mirror, was cold and sharp, his lips pressed into a line that spoke of thoughts already circling around a devious plan.Jack worked in practiced silence at first. He adjusted Desmond’s collar, smoothed the heavy black fabric over his broad shoulders, and stepped back to assess him.“You’re tense,” Jack said finally after looking inti his eyes.Desmond’s eyes flicked to the mirror. “I’m always tense.”“That’s not what I mean. This is… different” Jack replied carefully. Desmond scoffed. “You’re imagining things.”Jack didn’t argue. He moved closer again, fixing a silver clip shaped like a wolf’s head at Desmond’s throat.“Word is spreading about Becca” Jack continued and Desmond’s jaw tightened.“Let it. Fear tr
Becca woke slowly, dragged out of sleep by a dull ache that seemed to live in her bones.It was the kind of ache that wasn’t born of injury alone, but of tension held too long. Her body felt heavy, as though the bed itself had swallowed her halfway, reluctant to leave her alone.Becca’s stomach twisted violently.She turned onto her side, her breath catching as nausea fluttered briefly through her. Instinctively, her hand drifted downward, resting low against her abdomen. The movement was unconscious like an act of protection she didn’t even think about anymore.Her fingers curled there, gentle, like she was trying to get find out if her child was still there.She lay still, listening to the slow rhythm of her own breathing, grounding herself the way she had learned to do long before Blackwood mansion, long before Desmond and his throne of fear. Her gaze traveled up to the ceiling, tracing the thin lines as though they formed some secret map only she could read.She must have fallen







