LOGINJEREMY’S POV
I smelled the blood before I even reached the house.
My wolf surged forward, clawing at my insides. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I pushed through the front door and the scent hit me full force—death, fear, and underneath it all, her.
Lyra.
I ran up the stairs three at a time, following the sounds of shouting and her muffled screams. My heart was hammering so hard it hurt.
The bedroom door was open. What I saw made my vision go red.
Caspian had his hands wrapped around Lyra's throat. Her face was turning purple, eyes wide with terror. Orion and Silas held her arms twisted behind her back. Rowan stood to the side, face cold and watching. Raphael was there too, just staring like he didn't know what to do.
And on the floor between them—Dad. Covered in blood. Not moving.
"Get off her!" I roared, grabbing Caspian by the back of his shirt and throwing him across the room.
He crashed into the wall hard. Orion lunged at me but I shoved him back. Silas let go of Lyra's arm and she collapsed, gasping for air.
"What the hell are you doing?" I snarled, putting myself between them and her.
"Protecting what's ours," Caspian spat, pushing himself up from the floor. His eyes were wild, grief and rage mixing into something dangerous. "This bitch killed Dad! Look at her—she's covered in his blood!"
"She murdered him," Silas said coldly, his voice deadly calm. "Her and that gold-digging mother of hers. Probably planned it together. Kill the Alpha, take the pack, take everything."
Behind me, Lyra sobbed. The sound tore through my chest like claws.
"She didn't kill him," I said, my voice coming out harder than I meant. "She wouldn't."
"How the fuck would you know?" Orion demanded, stepping closer. His fists were clenched, ready to fight. "You just got here. She's got Dad's blood all over her hands, Jeremy. Open your goddamn eyes."
"I know," I growled back.
The words hung in the air. My brothers all stared at me, suspicion crawling across their faces.
"What do you mean, you know?" Rowan asked slowly. His eyes narrowed. "How do you know anything about her?"
Shit. I'd said too much. But I couldn't take it back now.
"I just know," I repeated, meeting each of their stares. My wolf pushed at my control, wanting to shift, wanting to protect her. "Trust me. She didn't do this."
"Trust you?" Caspian laughed, but it sounded broken. "You walk in here defending some girl we just met? Dad's dead, Jeremy. Dead. And she's the only one here with him."
"I heard him crying," Lyra choked out from behind me. Her voice was raw, hoarse from Caspian's hands on her throat. "I came to help. He grabbed me and said—he said something about me being special. That you don't know what I am. Then he just... he just died. I didn't do anything. I swear I didn't."
"Liar," Silas said flatly. "Convenient story. The innocent girl just trying to help."
"It's the truth!" Lyra cried.
"Shut up," Caspian snarled, starting toward her again.
I moved faster, shoving him back hard. "Touch her again and I'll break your fucking jaw."
"You want to fight me over her?" Caspian's voice dropped low and dangerous. "Our father is dead and you're defending his killer?"
"She's not a killer."
"Then what is she to you?" Raphael spoke for the first time, his voice quiet but cutting. His eyes burned into mine. "Why are you so sure, Jeremy? What aren't you telling us?"
The question hung heavy between us. I could feel all their eyes on me now. Waiting. Demanding answers I couldn't give.
Because how could I tell them? How could I explain that I'd hired her, claimed her, marked her skin with my mouth and hands? That she smelled like mine even though she wasn't? That my wolf recognized something in her I didn't understand?
"Call the pack doctor," I said instead, avoiding the question. "Have him examine Dad. If she poisoned him or stabbed him or whatever you think she did, he'll find proof."
"Fine," Silas said coldly. He pulled out his phone. "Dr. Chen. Get here now. Emergency."
The room fell into tense silence. Lyra stayed on the floor, shaking. I wanted to go to her, pull her close, but I couldn't. Not with my brothers watching every move.
Minutes crawled by like hours. Finally, Dr. Chen arrived with his medical bag. He was an older wolf, had been with our pack for decades. He knelt beside Dad's body and started his examination.
We all watched in silence. Waiting.
Dr. Chen checked Dad's eyes, his mouth, his chest wound. He took samples of the blood. His movements were slow, careful, thorough.
"Well?" Caspian demanded after what felt like forever. "What killed him?"
Dr. Chen sat back on his heels, his face grave. "Poison. Wolfsbane, mixed with something else I'll need to test for. But this wasn't administered tonight."
"What do you mean?" Orion asked.
"I mean he's been poisoned slowly over months," Dr. Chen said quietly. "Small doses, building up in his system. His organs were failing. The heart attack tonight was just the final result of long-term poisoning."
The words hit like a bomb.
Months. Not tonight. Not Lyra.
"You're saying she didn't do it?" Rowan asked slowly.
"I'm saying whoever killed your father started long before this girl arrived," Dr. Chen confirmed. He looked at Lyra with something like pity. "She couldn't have done this."
Relief crashed through me so hard my knees almost buckled. She was innocent. I knew it, but hearing it confirmed made my wolf settle slightly.
My brothers stood frozen, the rage draining from their faces into something worse—grief, confusion, guilt.
"Let her go," I said quietly.
Caspian's jaw clenched but he stepped back. Silas did the same. Orion looked away.
But the hatred in their eyes didn't fade. Not really. They might know she didn't kill Dad, but they still didn't want her here. Still saw her as an outsider, an intruder in our pack.
"This doesn't change anything," Silas said coldly, looking at Lyra like she was dirt. "You're not welcome here. You understand? This isn't your home."
"Silas—" I started.
"Stay out of it, Jeremy," he cut me off. "Whatever connection you have with her, I don't want to know. But she's not pack. She's not family. And I want her gone."
Before anyone could respond, the door opened again.
Iris rushed in, her face painted with fake tears. She looked at Marcus's body and let out a dramatic wail.
"Oh no! Marcus! My love!" She pressed her hands to her face, sobbing loudly. Then her eyes found Lyra. "You. This is your fault. You brought bad energy into this house. Now look what's happened! They're going to blame us both because of you!"
"Mom, I didn't—"
"Don't call me that," Iris hissed, somehow making herself look like the victim. "I finally found happiness and you ruined it. You always ruin everything."
Lyra's face crumpled. The pain in her eyes made my chest tight.
Iris turned to my brothers, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should never have brought her here. Please forgive me. I've lost my husband because of her curse."
I watched her performance with disgust. She was good. Really good. Playing the grieving widow perfectly while throwing her own daughter under the wolves.
My brothers bought it. I could see it in their faces—sympathy for Iris, more hatred for Lyra.
Lyra just stood there, covered in blood, shaking and alone. Everyone against her. Even her own mother.
My wolf howled inside me, desperate to protect her.
But I couldn't. Not without explaining everything. And I wasn't ready for that fight.
Not yet.
CASPIAN’S POVThe forest clearing was too quiet. The only sounds were our ragged breathing and the distant rustle of leaves where the others were no doubt still searching. My arm was still around her waist, holding her against me. I could feel every curve, the frantic beat of her heart against my ribs. The scent of her—fear, anger, autumn leaves, and that underlying, maddening sweetness that was purely Lyra—filled my head, making it hard to think.Why is she like this? Why does she fight the only people trying to keep her alive?She stared up at me, those wide eyes full of defiance instead of the gratitude she should be feeling. It made something snap inside me.“Why are you running?” My voice came out rougher than I intended. I didn’t let go. “We’re trying to protect you. You could still be watched. You know that.”She shoved against my chest, but I didn’t budge. “Let go of me, Caspian.”“Not until you answer me. Why run? What do you think you’re proving?”“I’m proving I can make my
LYRA’S POVThe leather cuffs are gone, but the mark they left feels deeper than skin. I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands. My own hands. I turn them over, studying the lines on my palms like they might hold a new answer.This is me. This body. This… thing I am.The thought doesn’t feel real. It sits in my head like a bad dream I can’t wake up from. A fated mate. To six men. Six werewolves. And not just any mate. Some… anomaly. A unifying bond. The words they used swirl around, heavy and strange.But one part sticks, sharp as a knife.I survived.Those men in the van, the ones who took me from Iris… they weren’t just random bad guys. They were hunters. Looking for someone like me. And I got away. A little girl. How? Why me?Was that the real reason she hated me? My own mother? Was it because I was… different? Wrong? Or was I just unlucky, a curse that brought trouble to her door?The questions have no answers. They just twist in my gut, a dull, constant ache.I don’t cry.
LYRA’S POVI woke to the low sound of voices. My head throbbed. My arms ached. Something cool and firm circled my wrists. Memory crashed back in a sickening wave. The run. The capture. The cuffs.My eyes flew open.I was in my bed, the blankets pulled up to my chest. And they were all there. All six of them. Sitting in chairs they’d dragged in from who-knows-where, forming a silent half-circle around my bed. The morning light cut through the gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across their serious faces.Jeremy was closest, elbows on his knees, head bowed. Silas sat straight-backed, his expression unreadable. Raphael looked tired, his usual wild energy subdued. Orion watched me with quiet intensity. Rowan’s gaze was full of a pain I didn’t understand. Caspian just looked… resigned.The room was still a wreck. Shards of the vase glinted on the floor. The broken lamp lay on its side. And my wrists were bound by soft leather cuffs, connected by a short chain.A hot, sour rage bubbled
LYRA’S POVThe words hung in the air between us. Mate bond. Fated. All of us.For a second, my brain just… stopped. It refused to process the sheer insanity of what he’d just said. Then, like a dam breaking, it all crashed in.A sharp, ugly laugh tore out of my throat. “You’re lying.”“Lyra—” Jeremy tried to step closer.“Don’t!” I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the door frame hard. “You’re lying! This is another game. Another way to control me. A ‘mate bond’? Are you even hearing yourselves? You sound insane!”Silas stood from behind his desk, his face like stone. “It’s the truth.”“The truth?” I screamed, the sound raw and scraping. My voice bounced off the book-lined walls. “The truth is you kidnapped me! You brought me here, you’ve watched me, you’ve… you’ve touched me, you’ve fought over me like I’m some prize! And now you’re telling me it’s all because of some… some mystical tether? No. No way.”“It’s not mystical,” Orion said softly, his calm voice grating against my rage.
LYRA’S POVThe days blurred into a rhythm of early alarms, stiff office clothes, and the quiet hum of Blackwood Capital. I didn’t go back to Onyx. I was too tired, my mind too full of spreadsheets and meeting notes and the careful, distant politeness of my new colleagues. But a part of me missed it. Missed the loud music, the anonymity of the stage, the simple transaction of a look for a tip. Here, every glance felt loaded. Every word felt like a test.It was late, past ten. I’d been in my room, trying to read a textbook for a class I was already falling behind in. My eyes kept closing. I gave up, deciding to go to the kitchen for some tea, something to settle the restless, empty feeling in my chest.The hallway was dark, thick carpet swallowing the sound of my steps. As I neared the closed door of Silas’s study, I heard it. Raised voices. Angry, sharp words bleeding through the heavy wood.I froze. I shouldn’t listen. I knew I shouldn’t. But my feet were nailed to the floor.“—a risk
Rowan’s POVShe walked in and placed the file on his desk. “The portfolio problem. The client’s directives are contradictory because they’re based on outdated risk parameters. I cross-referenced their stated goals with their actual trading history from the last eighteen months. I proposed a new allocation model that aligns with their real behavior, not what they say they want. The math is on page two.”Silas opened the file. He scanned the page. His expression didn’t change, but I saw his eyes move quickly, absorbing.“The market reports,” she continued. “The data was in the ‘Archive_ZH’ subfolder under the Singapore server. I used a translation overlay on the system to get the gist, then correlated the key figures with the publicly reported indexes to check for discrepancies. There’s a summary on page four. The variance is within an acceptable margin, but the dip in Q3 wasn’t market-wide; it was specific to two of our holdings. I highlighted them.”She wasn’t just repeating informati







