LOGINI wanted to be a seamstress. I'd always admired how the corsets were magnificently crafted. I wanted to make something out of myself. Something to prove to my family and pack that I am not useless. But despite my efforts, they found me worthy of being a breeder for the cruel alpha king. Rumour says he is a beast. Unforgiving and ruthless. Alphas bow at his feet. His reputation Is widely known.
I just need to give him a son and I will be free. That is what my parents said. I tried to sit comfortably on the bumpy carriage. My corset would soon squeeze the air out of me but it seemed it was still far. GRITHIM IRONFANG. The carriage came to an abrupt stop, my head hitting the iron bars and I whimpered loudly. " Take everything you can," I heard male voices. The carriage door flew open and I came face to face with naked males with hairy chests. Rogues. They were rogues. " Isn't your beauty as cold as snow?" One of the rogues commented and instead of feeling flattered, I felt scared. These wood robbers are bloodthirsty. They are untamed and do what pleases them. " Get out of the carriage." He orders and without blinking, I scurried forward, and just as I almost made it out, I stepped on my garment and fell face flat to the wet earth. I groaned, dirt entering my mouth and I spat, strong hand gripped my arm, pulling me to my feet. I spat again and glared at the rogue holding me but immediately softened my look before I regretted it. My yellow gown is now covered in black specks of dirt. " Do you know who I am?" I couldn't help the words that left my mouth. I am a neat freak and I'm not the type that shows up somewhere like Grithim for the first time in dirt. " The cruel alpha king breeder. I know you and when you meet Voidheart, tell him to kick a rock." He said, his tone mocking and I grit my teeth. " Take the carriage and everything boys!" He calls to his gang and my lips parted in disbelief. Right under my eyes, I watched as they looted the carriage and everything we brought along away, disappearing into the woods. I turned to the rider and he pointed his finger at a mountain. " Behind this mountain is Grithim. We need to start moving now before the sun sets." He says and I sigh. I stared at the mountain and without choice, I followed the lead of my footman. Harold. Sweats dripped down my face as we climbed the mountain terrains. " Perhaps we should pull our clothes and shift into our wolf form. It will be easier that way, Felyndra," he says and I grunt. I've thought of that but I am not a wolf. I am a fox and I can't show my true identity. " You seemed to have forgotten that I am wolfless," I reminded him, not slightly offended and he apologized profusely. The walls of Grithim were finally in sight and an hour later, a guide took us to the castle of the alpha king – Nightbane Voidheart. As we passed by, onlookers especially servants stared at me, their faces wrinkled at how unkempt I looked. I could hear their muffled whispers but I paid deaf ears to them. It isn't my fault that I was robbed by rogues. " Wait here. I will inform the king of your arrival," The woman said politely and I waved at her, telling her to stop. " I would like to change from this .." I pointed at my dirty gown. " Into something cleaner," I completed and she shook her head at me. " Until the king approves of you, you are not allowed any privileges," she answered and I quickly asked. " What happens if the king doesn't approve of me?" I waited patiently for her answer, praying the king would disapprove of me and I would get my freedom back. " You get to marry one of the widowed elders or become a servant of the royal house," My heart sank at her answer. None of the options were good. It truly seemed like Grithim was the end of me. She disappeared behind the door and I remained standing, afraid of soiling the seats by sitting on them with my dirty gown. After about an hour, my feet were starting to wobble and my strength wearing away. I needed food, a bath, and rest. But then the door opened, making me open my tired eyes. I turned, and my breath hitched. Standing before me was the most ethereal man I had ever seen. Too beautiful to belong to this world and yet too dangerous to be divine. His long, obsidian hair cascaded over his broad shoulders, flowing like liquid silk with every step he took. Midnight eyes, deep and endless, held a quiet intensity that made my pulse thudder. His olive skin, kissed by a golden undertone, contrasted sharply against the rich black of his robe, embroidered with shimmering gold threads that caught the light like woven stardust. He walked with the grace of a predator, each slow, measured step making the air grow heavier. Power radiated from him, unseen yet suffocating, pressing down on me like a hand at my throat. My legs trembled, and my body instinctively reacted to a force I couldn’t fight. My knees hit the floor with a sharp thud. A silent whimper slipped past my lips as my head tilted backward, my neck baring in submission. He stood before me, towering over me as his earthly smell of leaves and citrus flooded my nose. I felt a shadow over me and a cold finger touched my chin, sending sparks and chills down my spine. Slowly, he tilted my face up to look at him and I saw it, a fox and a wolf cuddling in his eyes. " Mate!" A voice screamed in my head. A voice I've never heard before. His gaze scrutinized my face as if sucking the air out of my lungs. He leaned closer, his nose almost touching mine and I felt something wet between my thighs. A soft gasp left my mouth and his thumb caressed my bottom lip, making my body wriggle with an unknown sensation, sending heat up my body, my heart racing against my ribcage. " What is your name?" His voice made my body vibrate and heat traveled up my face. I tried to say it but no words came out of my mouth. " You let a rogue touch you?" He asked, striking fear in my heart, and my heart thuds. Have I offended him? His hand suddenly gripped my chin tightly, parting my mouth so widely that it hurt. " Did he kiss your lips? Did he plunge you?" He demands, his voice ranging and fear cocooned me. " Did you do it in the dirt so you can avoid being my breeder?" He asked, his accusation cut through my heart like a blade.NYXORA The chamber smelled of foxfire and judgment.Whispers rippled through the gathered court, a tide of rumors too loud to drown out. My nails dug into my palms as I stood in the center, forced to face them.“They say she carries the pearl,” one elder whispered.“They say the goddess chose her,” another hissed.I lifted my chin, eyes hard, though my throat tightened. Felyndra. Always Felyndra. The whore with her false innocence, her baby, her glowing pearl.I would not kneel to her.The only mother I had known, the Fox queen sat high upon her throne, silver hair crowned in foxfire light. Her eyes cold, sharp — never left me. She didn’t look like the woman who always doted on me with affection.Nightbane stood beside her. Back from war. Armor still scarred, wolf still breathing though fading. His face was unreadable, jaw locked. When his gaze brushed me, it wasn’t even anger. It was nothing.That stung more than hatred.And behind them, the elders, draped in crimson robes. The hal
The Fox court glittered with gold and deceit. I had learned to stop staring at the jeweled mosaics on the ceiling or the foxfire lanterns in the corridors. Pretty things here were dangerous things.That morning, a maid came. Her name was Mara.She bowed low, her hands cradling a small wooden chest, lacquered red and carved with fox sigils.“From the Queen’s cousin in the South,” she said. “A token of allegiance.”Her eyes didn’t meet mine. Her voice was too smooth.I looked at the chest. “What’s inside?” I asked.“A charm for protection, Princess.” She answered.I felt Roses stir at my hip, wrapped against me in her sling. Her tiny fists clenched as if she knew something I didn’t. A faint glow around my neck gave a faint pulse, like a heartbeat answering hers. I was told it was a pearl and it could pulse anywhere in my body.Mara stepped forward. Too close.And then, Roses cried. Not a soft whimper but a shrill, panicked scream. The pearl flared, white-hot light spilling from it, so b
AURONLies. All of it. I had stopped being a listener to my own heart. I had started being an arsonist of my own conscience—burning things so others would not see my cowardice.When the camp went still and the wolves slept fitfully, I walked the perimeter. The moon was a thin nail in the sky. I pressed my forehead to the rough wood of the palisade and breathed.I had not chosen right. But at least I moved. At least I tried to balance. The fracture inside me split the deeper for it.Night passed with fever in my bones. By the time the sun clawed out of the black, the rumors had reached us. They called me a hero. They spoke my name as if praise could stitch a wound. It did not. Praise is just sound. It does not fill the hollow spaces guilt digs.I sat alone with a wet palm pressed to my mouth and decided, with a clarity that hurt, I would stop doing only half the right thing. I would sabotage Bowman where I could, but I would not let Snow be taken by him. If she chose Bowman willingly,
AURONThe smell of smoke had a way of clinging. It burrowed under skin, into hair, into the throat. It never left, not even after rivers of blood and weeks of battle. Tonight it pressed down like a curse, curling from the ruins of the vanguard village we had reclaimed. Wolves dragged Bowman’s corpses into heaps, torches cracking them to ash. But for every body we burned, Bowman made sure to leave us ten more.He was everywhere. A shadow with teeth. And with him was my sister, Snow. Swollen with his baby.I saw her again tonight.Not the sister who used to climb apple trees and smear jam on her cheeks, but someone sharpened by grief into a blade. Bowman had wrapped her in his cause as tightly as he’d wrapped his cloak. She stood in their war council like she belonged there, silver braid coiled like a crown. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t need to. I could feel when her gaze slid past my shoulder; I knew the way she could still read me …. like an old bone.My throat tightened. Nails b
The fox court was nothing like Grithim’s shadowed throne room.Where Nightbane’s halls thrummed with the scent of blood and iron, this place glittered with foxfire lamps that cast the marble in shifting shades of gold and violet. Courtiers in flowing silks drifted like smoke, their sly eyes following me wherever I moved.I hated it.They bowed too deeply. Smiled too sweetly. And behind every greeting, every reverent murmur of princess, I heard the truth: they had not wanted me before. I was a ghost they had not looked for. A daughter stolen, abandoned to wolves.And now, suddenly, I was everything.The fox queen, my mother, sat high upon the throne. Her presence alone commanded the chamber. Regal, terrifying, every inch a ruler. Her gaze found me, pinned me like prey.“Felyndra,” she said, her voice carrying like steel over water, “step forward.”My feet obeyed before my mind did, carrying me across the marble until I stood at the center of the court, Roses strapped to my chest. The w
NYXORA The shards of the mirror still glistened at my feet, tiny slivers of my own face staring back at me. Mocking me.“The true fox princess.”The words wouldn’t leave me. They echoed in my head like bells tolling for my funeral.I sat there in silence for a long while, blood dripping from my knuckles, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. My rage trembled inside me, wild, dangerous, hungry.“She thought she had won” I breathed.“She think because she had the wolves whispering her name and the foxes calling her princess that she had stripped me of everything.”But she was wrong.I wasn’t a woman who accepted defeat. I was a woman who burned the ones who stood in my way.I stood slowly, wiping the blood from my fist across my gown, smearing the fabric with dark stains. A queen’s gown ruined, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered, except her.“Felyndra.”I hissed her name, the syllables sharp on my tongue.The guards outside my chamber jumped when I pulled the door open,







