LOGIN“She was sold to the palace as a slave. But her blood was what brought the Lycan King to his knees.” Veya was rejected by her fated mate for being a broken wolf. She thought her life was over, until her father sold her as a slave to the most ruthless Lycan King in history. King Rael Arkhelen Vor’Serrax was infamous for his bloodlust. Loyalty meant nothing to him; women were nothing more than tools to tame his brutality. He was supposed to destroy Veya in a single night. But the moment her scent reached him, the beast within bowed to her, while the King’s pride rebelled. Veya was no ordinary slave. She wielded what little privilege she had as a weapon to survive, and it only made the King’s obsession burn hotter. When the truth came out—that she was the last descendant of the Shadow Wolves—her place in the palace shifted. From a means of release to a threat to every royal concubine. From a palace slave to the sweet poison the King couldn’t let go. But the danger was far from over. An enemy from the past returned, carrying a coup that could strip them of everything. Including the brutal love slowly blooming from their deepest wounds.
View MoreVeya’s POV I woke with a strangled breath and found him already above me. Morning was only half-born. A pale blade of sunlight slipped through the heavy curtains, carving a faint golden line down his bare back. His tan skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. The muscles in his shoulders and arms shifted with every roll of his hips—slow at first, measured, then quicker the moment he realized my eyes were open. “You’re awake,” he rumbled, his voice thick, rough with sleep and possession. “How do you feel?” “I… I don’t understand,” I stammered, shaking my head because he had found that devastatingly sweet place inside me again. “Your Majesty…” A low moan escaped me. My voice was wrecked. My throat burned from how many times I had called his name through the night, never truly stopping and never truly resting. My hands rose on instinct, clutching at his shoulders. My nails pressed into his slick skin as his movements made the bed creak beneath us. Each thrust pushed my head back, and
Nerissa’s POV The split door still trembled when I stepped inside. Cracked wood scraped beneath my claws before crashing onto the black marble floor, the sound ricocheting up to the vaulted ceiling of the council chamber. All seven elders rose almost at once. Their heavy robes dragged across the stone. The old bastards’ faces tightened—not from fear. They were not weak men. No, this was a calculation. The kind that comes when a carefully crafted plan shifts beneath their feet. I did not wear my crown. I came with fangs. The half-shift broadened my shoulders, sharpened my hearing, and lengthened my nails into curved blades ready to tear. The sleeves of my red gown had ripped, exposing the sweep of fine white fur brushing my skin. The fabric clung indecently to muscle and heat, as though even silk understood who ruled this room. The air thinned under the weight of my dominance. My gaze locked onto the long obsidian table at the center of the chamber. Upon it lay the royal bloodl
Nerissa’s POVI sat at the edge of the bed, spine straight out of habit, fingers digging into my chest as if I could hold together whatever was tearing loose inside me. The image would not stop replaying—Rael’s arms wrapped around that lowborn slave, the way his body curved around hers as though he had finally found something he had been searching for his entire life. As though she were home.He had never held me like that.Two measured knocks broke through the silence. The door opened carefully, and the scent reached me first. Isevar stepped inside with a stride that was heavy yet controlled. His silver armor still clung to his broad frame, catching the dim candlelight. His black hair was tied low at his nape, and his jaw was carved sharp as a blade meant for war.“Allow me to approach, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice low and steady.I gave a faint nod, resting my head against the carved bedpost.“How much has happened that I do not know during my absence?” His tone was grave, the
Nerissa POVThe cheers still echoed as the ritual cave began to empty, but to me the sound had twisted into a long, piercing hum drilling into my skull.I remained seated on the throne while elders and nobles filed out with wide smiles, their satisfaction gleaming under torchlight.My mind drifted back to what had happened only hours ago, when my husband stepped down from his throne, not for me.My king broke through a circle of magic even the elders dared not touch. The ritual symbols tore at his skin, slicing through flesh as if punishing his defiance, yet he kept walking forward as though the world bent to a single purpose.And that purpose was not me.What carved deepest into my chest was watching my husband pull that slave girl into his arms—right in front of me. His hands wrapped around her thin body possessively, and he lowered his face so close that their lips met.I gave no dramatic reaction. Royal protocol did not permit me the luxury of losing control. Even when my husband’






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