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104 Capítulos

Prologue

Prologue: The Mark of Betrayal (Nayla’s POV — First Person) There are moments when the heart doesn’t just break. It shatters. Splinters into so many pieces you know you’ll never find them all again. Tonight was one of those moments. I stood at the edge of the gathering circle, fingers twisted into the fabric of my dress, holding on like it was the only thing keeping me upright. The bonfire burned high and golden in the center, crackling under the night sky, its smoke tangling with the sweet scent of crushed grass and turned earth. The whole pack was here. Witnesses to the ceremony that would crown their future. Their Luna. Their Alpha. And their betrayal. I could feel every stare prickling against my skin. Every murmured whisper cutting deeper than claws. But I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe. I just watched. Watched him— Nikolai, the boy I’d loved since the moment we collided at the border woods at thirteen years old. The boy who’d whispered promises ag

Chapter 1: Stale Cookies and Worse Memories

Chapter 1: Stale Cookies and Worse Memories (Nayla’s POV — First Person) I was halfway through my second box of oatmeal cookies when Kayla flung open the living room curtains like she was staging an intervention. “Get up,” she said, hands on her hips like some tiny, furious general. I grunted from the couch, pulling the blanket higher over my head. “Go away.” “No.” She marched across the room and snatched the cookie box out of my hands. “You’re one emotional binge away from starring in a My 600-lb Life: Werewolf Edition special. I’m saving you from yourself.” I groaned and buried my face in a pillow. It had been three weeks. Three weeks since Nikolai had marked Alara as his Luna. Three weeks since I stood in front of the entire pack, pretending my heart wasn’t being carved out of my chest with a rusted spoon. Three weeks of oatmeal cookies, daytime TV, and ignoring the way my wolf sulked in the back of my mind like a wounded animal. “You need fresh air,” Kayla said, yanking

Chapter 2: Under the Lights

Chapter 2: Under the Lights (Nayla’s POV — First Person) The second we stepped inside Nocturne, I felt it in my bones. Power. Old and sharp and humming under the bass-heavy music. Nocturne wasn’t just a nightclub. It was neutral ground. One of the few places in the city where witches, werewolves, and humans could breathe the same thick air without tearing each other apart. Here, your species didn’t matter. Money did. Power did. And respect for the rules set by the club’s owner — Dominic Gray — was absolute. I’d never met him. Didn’t need to. His presence was stitched into the walls. In the way even the drunkest humans knew better than to start a fight. In the way the most reckless wolves kept their fangs sheathed when a witch brushed too close. Dominic Gray ran Nocturne with invisible fists—and tonight, we were stepping right into his world. The club pulsed with sound and light. Bodies packed tight on the dance floor. Red and silver flashes slicing through the smoke.

Chapter 3: Rescue and the Scent of Trouble

Chapter 3: Rescue and the Scent of Trouble(Nayla’s POV — First Person)I ordered another drink.Probably a mistake, judging by the way the room tilted slightly when I turned back to lean against the bar.The music was louder now, the lights harsher, and the edges of the world felt fuzzier than I liked.But the numbness was good.Safe.It smothered the ache still living under my ribs.I was halfway through my drink when a guy slid onto the empty stool beside me—smelling like cheap cologne and even cheaper ambition.“Hey, gorgeous,” he slurred, flashing a grin that probably worked better when he wasn’t three shots past charming. “What’s a girl like you doing here all alone?”I didn’t answer.Didn’t even look at him.Sometimes ignoring them worked.Sometimes it didn’t.He leaned in closer, the heavy scent of beer rolling off him. “You don’t have to be shy, baby. I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that.”I shifted slightly away, my wolf snapping her teeth in the back of my mind, but my bod

Chapter 4: Lavender and Salt

Chapter 4: Lavender and Salt(Dominic’s POV — First Person)I should’ve been focused on the meeting.Should’ve been thinking about the numbers, the land negotiations, the trade agreements with the smaller pack from upstate.But all I could think about was her.The girl at the bar.Alone.Too drunk.Too soft around the edges.Vulnerable in a way that made something primal inside me snarl in protest.She didn’t belong sitting there, ripe for the picking by every lowlife who thought a lonely woman was an invitation.And that scent…Moon, that scent.Lavender and salt.Like standing barefoot at the edge of the sea just as a storm rolls in.Wild.Untamed.Beautiful.Sloan was speaking beside me, rattling off numbers and terms about the land deal. The other alpha, a scrappy blond from up north, was nodding eagerly, desperate to impress.I barely heard them.I leaned back in the plush leather chair of the VIP suite, scanning the crowd below through the smoked glass, searching for a flash of

Chapter 5: Ashes in My Mouth

Chapter 5: Ashes in My Mouth(Nayla’s POV — First Person)I woke up with my mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with sandpaper and regret.The ceiling above me wasn’t mine—it was Kayla’s, painted a soft blue with tiny cracks spidering toward the corners.I groaned, rolling onto my side, clutching my pounding head.How the hell had I gotten this drunk?Werewolves weren’t supposed to get hangovers.Our metabolism usually burned through liquor like paper in a bonfire.It would take a fifth of whiskey just to get a decent buzz.But apparently grief…grief made everything hit harder.I sat up slowly, clutching the blanket around me.Every bone in my body ached.My stomach rolled.I needed water.A shower.Maybe an exorcism.Kayla’s guest room was a mess—clothes thrown everywhere, a half-eaten slice of pizza on the nightstand, an empty water bottle lying sideways on the floor.My dress—the red silk she made me wear—was hanging off the bedpost like a warning flag.I groaned again and stum

Chapter 6: Fall Into Fate

Chapter 6: Fall Into Fate(Nayla’s POV — First Person)I woke up half an hour late.Which was a miracle, considering I barely slept.I scrambled out of bed, heart hammering against my ribs, and sprinted to the bathroom. I had two choices:Fix my hair or do my makeup.There wasn’t time for both.I chose the hair.I slicked it into a tight, wet bun, letting a few strands fall loose around my face. If I was lucky, they’d dry in soft waves by the time I made it to the interview.If not—well, it wasn’t like I could rewind time.I threw on my best navy blue suit—a little snug around the hips now, but still professional—and grabbed my worn leather portfolio, praying it looked more vintage chic than sad and broke.By the time I hit the street, the morning sun was already too high, and the city air smelled like burnt bagels and desperation.I hopped on the subway, wedging myself between two very angry businessmen and a kid playing something that sounded suspiciously like a dying cat on his pho

Chapter 7: Names That Echo

Chapter 7: Names That Echo (Nayla’s POV — First Person) I scrambled back a step, almost tripping again on my broken heel. Heat flooded my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I blurted, eyes glued to the floor. God, I couldn’t even look at him. Not when I could still feel the strength of his hands steadying me. Not when his scent was wrapping around me like smoke. “I’m so sorry,” I said again, clutching my broken shoe like it might shield me from further humiliation. He didn’t say anything right away. The elevator hummed softly around us, the tension thick enough to choke on. I forced myself to glance up through my lashes. He was watching me. Not with amusement. Not with annoyance. Just… watching. Like I was something he couldn’t quite figure out. I swallowed hard and looked away again, pressing myself against the opposite side of the elevator, wishing I could melt into the wall. “Bad day?” he asked finally, his voice low and rough, but somehow gentle. I nodded, mortified. “Could

Chapter 8: Whispers in the Blood

Chapter 8: Whispers in the Blood(Nayla’s POV — First Person)It had been a week since the elevator incident.A week of overthinking every detail.A week of convincing myself it didn’t mean anything.And today—finally—something normal.My first day as an intern at Sterling & Cross.I smoothed my palms down the front of my navy pencil skirt and took a deep breath outside the towering glass doors.I could do this.I would do this.Inside, the office was as sharp and cold as I remembered—steel beams, endless marble, soft murmurs behind thick glass walls.Jamie met me at the front reception desk.She was gorgeous, of course.Tall, with waves of glossy dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and brilliant green eyes framed by thick lashes.Her suit was sleek, fitted perfectly, and her smile was so effortless it should have been illegal.Next to her, I felt… muted.Gray eyes.Long dark hair layered around my shoulders in soft waves that never quite behaved.A little too fierce in the jawlin

Chapter 9: Eyes Dont Lie

Chapter 9: Eyes Dont Lie (Dominic’s POV — First Person) The meeting was wrapping up. Another alpha. Another negotiation. More land disputes and pack alliances whispered behind glasses of whiskey and fake smiles. I stood to leave, adjusting the cuffs of my jacket, when it hit me. Her. Lavender and salt. Stronger than a memory. Sharper than the smoke curling through the room. I stiffened, scanning the crowded bar. Sloan caught the shift immediately. He raised an eyebrow. “Problem?” I didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. He followed my gaze to the far end of the room—where a cluster of women sat near the bar, laughing over drinks. And there she was. Nayla. Wearing tight black jeans and a deep green top that made her skin glow like honey under the dim lights. Her hair—dark, thick, layered—tumbled in messy waves around her shoulders. Her eyes—those storm-gray eyes—flashed when she laughed at something one of the girls said. She didn’t see me. Didn’t know I was watching. My

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