LOGINElla's POV
Stress affects every person differently. Some lose weight, unable to stomach even a single bite. Others gain it, turning food into an escape, a place of comfort when the rest of the world becomes too unbearable. Me? I belong to neither category. I don't overeat. I don't starve myself. I don't do anything differently. Yet my body keeps gaining weight. Whenever I bury my emotions, my anger, my grief, my fear, instead of letting them out, my body turns against itself. It begins attacking its own tissues, inflaming itself from within as though the pain needs somewhere to live. A defence mechanism. Or an illness. Call it whatever you want. In the werewolf medical world, it has a name. **Auto-inflammatory immunity.** And call me lucky... It affects only 0.00000001% of the population. Every recorded werewolf who suffered from it died before the age of twenty. I'm twenty-four. I guess I'm not that unlucky after all. As for my wolf...She's too small. So fragile. Pure white, almost glowing beneath the moonlight, yet every rib shows beneath her thin fur. Her deep brown eyes mirror mine, carrying the same exhaustion... the same sadness. She looks more like a starving pup than a fully grown wolf. The disease stole her strength too. That's why she never shifted on my eighteenth birthday. A shift demands tremendous energy, more than either of us possesses. I have never asked her to try. Because deep down...I know she wouldn't survive it. If there's one thing I wish I could tell her...It's that I'm sorry. Sorry for being born into a body that became her prison. She rarely speaks to me. The last real proper conversation we shared was six years ago. On my eighteenth birthday. The day she caught his scent. The day she whispered the truth that changed everything. *Mate.* But it never mattered after that. She was too weak. Her aura too faint for another wolf to notice. Let alone recognise the mate bond. She knew our fate. So did I. Rejection. And neither of us believed she would survive it. A rejected mate bond is agony for any wolf. For mine... It would be a death sentence. So I chose silence. Sometimes when I get bullied. Sometimes when I feel too close to breaking she asks me to try once. To try and tell him…but I can’t. She's the only friend I've ever had. Even if she hardly speaks anymore. I can't lose her too. "You heard?" The voices around me dragged me back to reality. "A woman was found murdered in His Majesty's office." I blinked, looking over my shoulder. A group of maids had gathered near the washing station, whispering amongst themselves while pretending to scrub silver platters. Or rather... Gossiping. My gaze dropped to my own hands. The water had turned cold. I realised I'd been washing the same plate for nearly ten minutes. "She must not have been pretty enough." One maid shrugged. "Or maybe she wasn't good enough in bed." The other nodded knowingly. "Probably both." "Or she tried touching him." She lowered her voice dramatically. "Everyone knows touching His Majesty is forbidden. She must've crossed a boundary." "That's what I heard too." Another leaned closer. "I'm more interested in how she died." "A slit across the throat." She traced a finger across her own neck. "The Alpha King's style." "He hates unnecessary noise." "He probably wanted to spare himself the headache of listening to her scream." A shiver crawled down my spine. "That sounds like him." "Shhh!" One of them suddenly hissed. "Someone's coming." "We're not supposed to talk about this." The group scattered almost instantly. No one even noticed me. Then again...Most people in this palace rarely did. I looked back down at the water. Goosebumps prickled across my arms. Dominicus Volkov wasn't merely feared. He was spoken about like a force of nature. A nightmare no one wants to live. Cold. Heartless. Emotionless. Untouchable. Suddenly a familiar knot twisted low in my abdomen. My entire body stiffened. No... What day was it today? Moon Goddess... How could I forget? I hadn't taken my heat suppressant. I looked through the kitchen window.The full moon hung high above the castle. "Damn it..." I immediately set the plate aside and hurried toward the exit. I had barely rounded the corner when I collided with someone. "Oh!" The basket in my hands tilted dangerously. "I'm so sorry!" "Hold your horses, Butterball." The familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. I looked up. The Head Housekeeper. I bit my lower lip. "Madam..." "I-I'm not feeling well." "I've finished all my duties for today." "May I leave?" She adjusted the sleeves of her uniform with an exasperated sigh. If there was one person in this palace I respected... It was her. She appeared stern.Strict. Almost impossible to please. But over the years, I'd learned the truth. Her heart was kinder than she ever allowed anyone to see. "Please, Madam." She looked at me for a long moment before sighing again. Without warning, she dropped a neatly folded pile of freshly laundered clothes into my arms. "You can." My shoulders relaxed. "But first..." She nodded toward the upper floors. "Take these to His Majesty's wardrobe." My heart stopped. No way…. "The... Alpha King's chambers? But Ai am not allowed-“ She waved away my concern. "Everyone important is still in the council meeting. No one will be in the royal wing until nearly midnight." "Just leave the clothes and come straight back." My fingers tightened around the stack of shirts. Damn it... I didn't have much time. Within minutes, my heat would hit in full force. My suppressant had already worn off. And while my scent was weak...It would still become noticeable. If I hurried... I could make it just in time. Another painful twist coiled through my abdomen and I took off running.Dominicus's POVThe council meetings had become painfully predictable over the last few years.Border disputes.Trade agreements.Military reports.Taxes.And finally..."...Which brings us to the last matter, Your Majesty."I didn't bother looking up from the report lying before me. It always came to this.Lord Marcus folded his weathered hands atop the council table."The succession."The feather of my quill continued gliding across the parchment."Proceed."A brief silence followed before Elder Rowan cleared his throat."You are thirty years old, Your Majesty."Another signature. As though I'd somehow forgotten."The kingdom requires a Luna.""The kingdom requires an heir."I sighed, not bothering to spare any of them a glance.My answer had never changed."It will have one."The elders exchanged uneasy glances, each waiting for another to be brave or foolish enough to continue.Finally, Lord Marcus spoke."And when will that be, Your Majesty?"I placed the quill down with delibera
I took off running. Up the marble staircase. Past the silver framed portraits of dead kings. Past the towering windows drenched in moonlight. My heartbeat pounded louder with every step. The royal wing felt like a different world. The moment I crossed the final staircase, the air itself changed. Thick crimson carpets swallowed the sound of my footsteps. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, scattering golden light across polished black marble walls. Carved wooden pillars twisted upward like ancient trees, their branches meeting above my head in a web of shadows and gold. Everything here whispered wealth. Power. Danger. I had spent my entire life in the lower quarters, surrounded by smoke, sweat, and endless work. This place felt untouched by reality. Untouched by people like me. Another cramp twisted through my stomach. I pressed the stack of clothes tighter against my chest and hurried down the corridor. The guards barely glanced at me. The laundry i
Ella's POVStress affects every person differently.Some lose weight, unable to stomach even a single bite. Others gain it, turning food into an escape, a place of comfort when the rest of the world becomes too unbearable.Me?I belong to neither category.I don't overeat.I don't starve myself.I don't do anything differently.Yet my body keeps gaining weight.Whenever I bury my emotions, my anger, my grief, my fear, instead of letting them out, my body turns against itself. It begins attacking its own tissues, inflaming itself from within as though the pain needs somewhere to live.A defence mechanism.Or an illness.Call it whatever you want.In the werewolf medical world, it has a name.**Auto-inflammatory immunity.**And call me lucky...It affects only 0.00000001% of the population.Every recorded werewolf who suffered from it died before the age of twenty.I'm twenty-four.I guess I'm not that unlucky after all.As for my wolf...She's too small.So fragile.Pure white, almost
Silence stretched between us. And while majority people get uncomfortable by it, I lived by it. Peace is not something which is received, it’s earned, especially on the title that I sit on. And I ravish it. The burning liquid sips down my throat and I look at the woman in front of me. Her clothes came off before that cheshire smile on her lips. Bowing to show off her cleavage at an agonising slow pace, she slips down that skirt of hers to have it pool near her heel clad feet. Next comes her top, leaving her just in her inner wears. My eyes travel her frame from top to bottom. Toned, curves at right places, assets too big to be natural. She was perfect. For the purpose why she was here. And that smile on her lips on watching me watch her told me, she knew it. She knew it too well. “ May I?” Her blue eyes ask for permission to come closer and I lay my head back on the headrest to nod. Closing my eyes. My fingers tap on the armrest, a habit I have failed to loose. I
**Dominicus Volkov's POV** "The Alpha of the Southern Alpine Forests has sent a gift, Your Majesty." Kale, my Beta, stood before my desk with a stack of letters in his hand. "As a token of gratitude for your assistance in defeating the Resistance Front, he has also sent thirty-two thousand gold bullions and signed a lifetime treaty, pledging twenty thousand warriors every year to defend our northern borders." I stared at him blankly. To be honest, he looked just as bored as I felt. He barely managed to suppress a yawn. As Alpha King, gifts arrived at my palace every single day. Some came with genuine gratitude. Most came with conditions. "In his letter, Alpha Fin also wrote..." Kale cleared his throat before reading aloud. "'I hope the gift is to your liking. It's the best of the best. You don't know what you're missing until you've had a taste of it.'" That finally caught my attention. Resting my chin against my palm, I cocked an eyebrow. Kale stopped reading. He knew m
Ella’s POVLaughter.It echoed through the Grand Hall, loud enough to drown every other noise. The laughter of victory, of celebration. Tonight, the royal army of the Alpha King had returned after three long months at war, and every noble, warrior, and servant had been ordered to attend the feast.Well...Attend wasn't exactly the right word.I was here to clean after everyone else.That’s what I do best.Clean peoples mess. Funny, when I can’t clean my own. Balancing a wooden tray against my hip, I slipped between rows of overflowing tables, collecting empty goblets and greasy plates while trying not to bump into anyone.It’s a task here, trust me.The entire hall smelled of roasted boar, warm bread, honeyed wine and burning candles.It almost felt... happy.Almost.And despite everything, I liked it.It was different from the endless routine waiting for me in the omega quarters, washing mountains of laundry, scrubbing soot-blackened pots, and cooking meals for hundreds of omegas







