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?Max's muscles screamed in protest, his shoulders burning, his palms already roughened and splitting beneath the leather wraps of his axe ash he used it to cut wood.Max welcomed the sting in his body because it drowned out the thoughts circling endlessly in his head, the memories that refused to loosen their grip.The cold morning air bit at his exposed chest, sharp enough to sting his lungs with every breath. Steam curled from his mouth as he exhaled, each breath coming harder than the last.The pile of chopped wood beside him had grown impressively large, logs stacked neatly. Max had stopped counting them long ago. He would keep chopping until his arms gave out or his thoughts finally broke apart.Whichever came first.Eugene’s face rose unbidden in his thoughts, as clear and sharp as if the Alpha stood before him now.Max’s jaw clenched as he brought the axe down again, harder this time. The blade buried itself so deeply in the wood that it stuck there, vibrating faintly from the
The corridors of Blackwood mansion was filled with hurried footsteps.Alpha Desmond moved like a storm unleashed. Servants pushed themselves against the stone walls, their heads bowed so low their foreheads nearly brushed the floor. None of them dared to speak. None dared to breathe too loudly.Behind him followed Jack, his expression tight with unease.“Desmond,” Jack said carefully, matching his pace. “You should slow down. The Luna is safe so there is no need—”“There is every need,” Desmond snapped without turning. “Someone dared to raise a blade inside my walls.”Jack's hand shot out as he grabbed Desmond's arm and try to get him to stop walking and not go charging in the room as if he's a lion ready to devour everything in his path."You need to get your emotions in check before you do something you might regret" Jack said, his voice hightened but he tried his best to sound as calm as possible so it won't seem like he's challenging his Alpha King.Desmond looked from Jack's fac
The council chamber of Blackwood mansion was filled with tension practically bouncing off its walls.Alpha Desmond sat at the head of the table. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, one arm draped over the armrest of his high-backed chair, his fingers idly tapping against carved wood. Around the table sat the highest-ranking wolves of the Blackwood Pack, maps lay unrolled before them, weighed down by daggers and polished stones marking borders, strongholds, and lands.Brian sat among them but he was silent.His broad shoulders were rigid, his jaw clenched as he listened to the conversation unfold. He had not spoken since the meeting began, and no one had asked him to. Desmond leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting as he traced a finger across the map.“Blackwood’s borders have grown stagnant,” he said smoothly. “We are surrounded by weaker packs clinging desperately to scraps of land they cannot defend.”One of the commanders nodded. “The Eastwatch wolves are already struggli
Ava’s sharp gasp still lingered in the air, her hand frozen halfway toward Seraphina’s arm as if she could pull her away from danger by sheer instinct but she was too late.Seraphina’s hand moved with speed as it connected sharply with Lira’s cheek and sent her to the floor."You stupid trash" Seraphina thundered.The other maids huddled backward against the stone wall, trembling so violently their aprons fluttered. None of them had expected the Lira to stand her ground even after being slapped, but now she held a knife.It was a kitchen blade, the kind used to peel fruit, but in her shaking hand, fueled by fury and heartbreak, it felt like a weapon capable of starting a war.Seraphina stared at Lira with a steady calm that was almost frightening. “Put that down,” Ava said, dragging her voice out slowly like she was speaking to a cornered wild animal. “You do not want to make this worse.”“Worse?” Lira breathed, her voice cracking. “You both stand here calling for the death of innoc
The Blackwood Mansion was unusually quiet that afternoon, its halls filled with soft light that streamed through tall arched windows. Soft footsteps echoed along the polished stone floors.Luna Seraphina walked with a measured grace, her gown trailing behind her like a whisper. Her hand rested on the gentle swell of her stomach, her pregnancy visible but not yet heavy enough to slow her stride. Beside her walked Ava with her sharp eyes staring down at servants passing through.Behind them followed four young maids, each carrying folded fabrics, polishing cloths, or small baskets filled with herbs and scented oils. Their heads were bowed, eyes downcast in respect and fear.Neither Seraphina nor Ava noticed the way the maids’ shoulders stiffened when their conversation began.Seraphina sighed heavily. “I truly cannot bear the growing arrogance of these resistance wolves. Every day, another group sneaks about the borders, whispering lies and stirring trouble.”Ava clicked her tongue.
The pale light of dawn crept through the narrow windows, painting the wooden beams in soft gold. The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards as the wind shifted outside. Eugene stood near the hearth, his arms crossed, his cloak falling in neat folds around his shoulders when he returned.The firelight flickered across his sharp features, casting long shadows that made his stern expression even more formidable.A soft shuffle echoed through the front doorway and Eugene’s eyes narrowed. He had anticipated this moment of Max returning, hoping to slip in unnoticed, hoping to avoid the consequences of last night.Max froze mid-step when Eugene’s piercing gaze fell upon him. The silence stretched between them, taut with unspoken tension.“Where have you been?” Eugene demanded, his voice low but laced with authority.Max hesitated, his hand brushing against the doorframe as if to steady himself. “I… I—”“Do not ‘I’ or ‘I’ me me me me,” Eugene interrupted, steppin







