LOGINThe tension in the room was so thick I could hear the frantic rhythm of her heart hammering against her ribs. My starved gaze remained locked onto the nudity of her legs and the sharp outline of her breasts beneath the gray shirt, leaving my body tense, rigid, and painfully aroused against my attire. Fenrir clawed at the walls of my mind, begging me to abandon the wheelchair and claim what was ours. I expected her to scream. I expected her to strike her chest, insult me, or act with the audacity of a spy outraged at having her privacy invaded.Instead, Alia jolted, shrinking back and tensing her body as she stood beside the mattress. She buried her bandaged fingers into the fabric of the shirt, desperately trying to pull the gray cotton down to hide her legs from my scrutiny. When she lifted her face, her light brown, honey-colored eyes were flooded with a panic so deep it froze the blood in my veins."I... I'm... I'm sorry," her voice came out in a stuttering whisper, trembling and c
"She is not a threat, Demetri," Logan's voice broke the silence of my anteroom. My Beta was standing near the window, observing the inner courtyard while I remained in the wheelchair, staring at the untouched chessboard in front of me. "I guided her from the car to this place. Her heart was terrified, but clean. The scent emanating from that girl was of pure terror, not mockery or political malice. Richard discarded her like one discards something of no value. It seemed as though he was relieved to do so. I've never seen anything like it. How does one discard their own blood like that?""Richard is a calculating pig, Logan," I hissed, tapping my fingers on the wooden armrest of the chair. Fenrir was pacing back and forth in my mind, restless, growling every time I tried to rationalize the situation. I shifted my gaze from the board and locked eyes with my childhood friend, letting the cold mask slip for a fraction of a second. "But the problem is much worse than a simple political tra
The metallic click of the key turning in the lock from the outside echoed like a death sentence. Logan had followed the Alpha's orders to the letter. I was officially locked in.I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding and pressed my back against the solid wood of the door, letting my body slide slowly until I was sitting on the floor. I rested my forehead on my knees, feeling the cold tears of humiliation, exhaustion, and pain finally overflow. How had I ended up here? What would life be like for a woman disowned by her family and her pack, and without a wolf?Everything in me ached: my body, my heart, my pride. What had I done for the Moon Goddess to allow this to happen to me? Had I been that cruel in past lives? Motherless, with an abusive father who seemed to take pleasure in hurting and humiliating me... Oh, Goddess! How I wanted to feel a mother's warmth, my mother's embrace, the human warmth of someone who actually cared... Heavens, my hands were throbbing unbearab
"No," her voice sounded small, yet it carried a firmness that caught me off guard. She took a step back, pressing that old notebook against her chest with trembling, visibly battered hands. "You might hold my destiny in your hands because of this treaty, but this is mine. You will not touch it."I narrowed my eyes, feeling the weight of the silence that settled beneath the glass walls of the pavilion. For months, I had lived cooped up here, feigning weakness in this wheelchair to make my cousin Julian and the traitors on the Council lower their guard. I was used to dealing with greedy wolves and arrogant generals, but this girl... she was breaking me from the inside out in a way I couldn't control.The split second she crossed the threshold and our eyes met, Fenrir, my inner wolf, awakened with a fierce, deafening howl inside my mind, clawing at my mental barriers with relentless talons. Mate! She is ours! Fenrir roared in my chest, inciting me to leap from this damned chair, take her
I stood frozen. Demetri’s accusation echoed through the glass pavilion, cutting as sharp as the very vase that had shredded my hands the day before. I was not a spy. I was merely a discarded survivor from Bleakwood, sent to die in place of my father’s favorite daughter. But before I could even open my mouth to defend myself and scream the truth, the sound of slow, cynical clapping shattered the suffocating silence of the room."What a warm welcome for your new bride, cousin," a drawn-out voice filled with fake sympathy called out from the doorway.I spun my head quickly and saw a man with perfectly styled brown hair and a smile that didn't reach his brown eyes. He wore elegant, tailored clothing—a brutal and humiliating contrast to my old rags. He walked with a calculated arrogance, as if the place already belonged to him. It was Julian, Demetri’s cousin.Julian approached me with calm steps, pretending to ignore the murderous aura that Demetri was beginning to emanate from the wheelc
The tall warrior opened the car door, and I stepped out cautiously, clutching the strap of my canvas backpack tightly against my chest. I expected the worst. In Bleakwood, whenever I entered a new environment, it was accompanied by shoves, shouts, or insults. But here, the silence that settled among the members of the Ambervalley pack moving through the gardens was different. No one moved to attack me. Instead, the looks I received were heavy with shock and a strange solidarity.Walking through those gardens was my first great shock. The contrast with the place I used to call "home" was almost painful. Bleakwood was a gray, cold, sterile land, where the ground felt like frozen mud and the tree branches were dry as black claws—fitting for the man who ruled it. Here, however, everything overflowed with life. Perfectly green lawns stretched beneath massive trees whose leaves shimmered in rich hues of gold, copper, and amber under the sunlight. The gentle warmth radiating from the sky see







