LOGINThe Moon Goddess chose wrong twice. Betrayed by the mate he once trusted, Alpha Enzo Breyer locked his heart away and rebuilt his shattered pack into a powerhouse strong, wealthy, feared. At thirty, he wants no Luna, no heir, no love. Fate is a liar, and weakness is death. Hookups are fine. Anything deeper is forbidden. Then she crashes into his world. Nina Crossroad, a quiet healer from the enemy Crest Moon Pack, is dragged into his territory as a reluctant spy, bound by threats to her dying father and the iron grip of her corrupt Alpha. She clings to her faith in the Goddess who once brought her parents together, trusting fate to deliver the one meant for her even as she’s forced to betray the very mate she discovers in the man who now holds her captive.
View MoreNinaIt started like every other morning, I woke before Enzo, which had become unusual over the past months, and lay in the early light listening to him breathe beside me, the particular peace of an ordinary day with nothing urgent waiting at its center. No tribunal session, no crisis requiring his immediate attention, just a normal morning, starting the day the best way, in bed with my mate, without the weight of the world on us.He stirred eventually, reaching for me before he was fully awake his hands wrapping around my stomach, the particular instinct of a man whose body had learned where I was supposed to be even before his mind caught up.“Morning,” he said, voice rough with sleep.“Morning,” I responded, wrapping my hands around him too, burying my face in his neck. We lay together for a while longer, the unhurried quiet of two people who had earned the right to simply exist together without anything requiring them to move yet.“Want to go for a walk in the garden?” he asked ev
EnzoI found Thomas in the training field at dawn, exactly where I expected him, going through the slow deliberate forms he had taken up since his strength fully returned, the particular discipline of a warrior who had lost months of conditioning and was patiently rebuilding it.He saw me approach and did not stop moving, which I had learned was simply how he operated, conversation and motion existing comfortably alongside each other.“You’re up early,” he said.“I wanted to catch you before the day got busy,” I said.He finished the form he was working through and turned to face me properly, reading something in my expression with the particular attentiveness that had not dulled even slightly through everything he had survived.“This is a specific kind of early morning visit,” he said. “I recognize the look.”“Do you,” I said.“I raised a daughter,” he said. “I have seen this look before, on a much younger version of myself, the morning I asked Elena’s father if I could court her.” H
PetraThe vote was held in Crestmoon’s great hall, the same hall where Dexter had once delivered orders that few had dared question, transformed now into something it had never been in living memory: a room full of wolves who were about to decide their own future for the first time in the pack’s history.I had not campaigned, exactly. I had simply done the work for the past two months, the daily unglamorous labor of holding a fractured pack together while it figured out what it wanted to become, and let the wolves decide for themselves whether that work meant something.Enzo stood at the back of the hall with Nina, present as observers rather than authorities, they let me make decisions on my own leading the pack, decisions that would help make it better, which had been his specific insistence when the tribunal asked whether Silver Fang wished to oversee the proceedings.“It is not my pack’s vote to oversee,” he had told Rowan. “We will be present as witnesses if Crestmoon wants us th
JessicaThree weeks in silver-warded custody had given me considerable time to think.Not the performative reflection of someone preparing a defense. Something quieter than that, the specific clarity that came from being removed from every circumstance that had previously required me to act a version of myself for someone else’s benefit. No Dexter to manage or help me or talk me through it, I was utterly alone.No mage’s amplification pulling at something inside me that had never quite been mine to control. No Enzo to perform indifference toward or Nina to resent.Just the cell, and the silence, and the slow accumulating weight of years of bad choices condensed into a single uninterrupted reckoning.I had decided, somewhere in the second week, that I was not going to act remorseful for the tribunal. Not because I felt none, everything was differen, it was more complicated than that, but because performed remorse was simply another version of the manipulation that had defined most of m












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