Mag-log inSierra Vance was born into Blackridge, the greatest wolf-racing pack in the world. Everyone expected her to become a champion. Except, Sierra has never shifted. She has no visible wolf, no extraordinary athletic ability, and no place among the champions her pack worships. She was desperate to prove that being wolfless does not make her worthless. Then came the biggest sprint of her life. Sierra loses. Before the entire wolf world and the public, her fated mate, Alpha Jaxson Drake, publicly rejects her. He didn't care that the entire world was watching. Humiliated and devastated, Sierra disappears beneath the rarest Dark Moon in generations. That night, the wolf everyone believed she never possessed finally awakens. But it isn't an ordinary wolf. Sierra's new ability makes her faster than everyone. But there's a problem. If the world discovers what she is, they won't see her as a champion. So, rather than returning as the same mocked and humiliated woman the world remembers, she enters an underground racing circuit under a new masked identity. She becomes Phantom, an unknown racer capable of destroying established records. As Sierra rises through the racing world, she realizes that her humiliation was never simply bad luck. Someone deliberately caused her failure. Someone suppressed her wolf. Then, a certain champion known as Damon Cross finds her. He's everything Alpha Jaxson isn't and he's completely fascinated by the woman behind the mask. For the first time, someone looks at her without seeing what she lacks. Meanwhile, Alpha Jaxson begins hunting for Phantom. He wants the fastest wolf alive on his team. He doesn't know he's searching for the mate he publicly threw away. Jaxson wants a second chance. Damon wants her to choose a life beyond fate. But she didn't survive rejection just to become someone's prize...
view moreSierra stepped over the fallen tree branches, leaving the pack lands behind without looking back. The downpour had softened into a thick, misty drizzle that clung to the tall canopy above. The forest was dead quiet, shifters rarely ventured into the woods during the Dark Moon. Without the celestial light to guide their instincts, standard shifter wolves felt heavy, sluggish, and vulnerable.Sierra felt anything but sluggish.With every step she took deeper into the ancient pine woods, the strange chemical fire in her chest grew hotter. It was no longer suffocating her or burning her lungs; it was shifting. The poison that had paralyzed her on the track was being consumed, digested, and converted at a cellular level by a dark, ravenous heat gathering at the base of her spine.Her heart rate accelerated to an impossible cadence, echoing inside her skull like a war drum beating in an empty hall.Sierra staggered into a wide, moss-covered clearing surrounded by towering oak trees. A sharp
The rain didn’t merely fall; it tore through the midnight air in icy, relentless sheets, plastering Sierra’s dark hoodie to her skin and washing the dried track blood from her collarbone.She stopped three feet from the idling luxury sedan, her boots sinking slightly into the slick gravel of the driveway. The car’s massive chrome headlights cut through the gloom, casting long, sharp shadows across the estate gates.Alpha Jaxson stood in the downpour, unmoving.He wore no coat, only the dark, tailored dress shirt and trousers from the stadium. The rain soaked through the crisp fabric, outlining the broad, lethal breadth of his shoulders and the thick muscle of his chest. His raven hair was slicked back by the deluge, highlighting the harsh, razor-sharp angles of his jawline and the icy silver glow burning deep within his pupils.Even soaked and standing in the mud, he radiated the suffocating, predatory authority of an undisputed Alpha.Sierra didn't take a step back. She shifted her h
The iron gates of the Blackridge Vance estate swung open with a rusty screech, slicing through the heavy midnight air.Sierra walked down the cobblestone driveway, her worn black duffel bag slung over her uninjured shoulder. The rain had started twenty minutes after she left the stadium, a cold, steady drizzle that soaked through her dark hoodie and washed the lingering track dust from her skin.The grand manor stood before her, illuminated by amber outdoor sconces. Normally, the grounds were bustling with Blackridge pack guards and junior athletes undergoing late-night conditioning. Tonight, the courtyard was eerily silent.As Sierra stepped onto the marble porch, two senior pack guards stepped out from the shadows, blocking the double mahogany doors. Both men bore the Blackridge crest pinned to their leather jackets. Neither of them offered a hand or checked her bleeding shoulder."You're late, Sierra," the lead guard, Howard, said, his voice completely devoid of respect. "Beta Vanc
The stadium’s underground corridor smelled of concrete, damp rubber, and stale sweat. Away from the blinding floodlights of the track, the silence was oppressive.Sierra’s footsteps echoed against the bare walls as she walked towards the athletes' lockers, her left hip throbbing with a dull, burning ache. Blood had dried in stiff, dark streaks down her forearm and cheek. Every breath felt like inhaling ground glass, but she kept her spine straight and her chin lifted.Halfway down the hall, a swarm of sports journalists surged past the security barrier, their press passes swinging around their necks like pendulums. Camera flashes exploded in Sierra’s face, dazzling her vision."Sierra! Over here! Do you have a statement regarding Alpha Jaxson's public rejection?""Was your collapse on live television caused by your lack of proper training or lack of a wolf shift?""Is it true that your father, Beta Vance, has already resigned from the Blackridge Sports Board out of shame?"Sierra didn






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