All Chapters of The Wolf Kings choice : Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

My skull throbbed to the rhythm of a brutal, pounding heartbeat. The first thing I registered was the suffocating heat. My body felt as though it had been set on fire and left to burn from the inside out. The second thing was the scent, intoxicating waves of hot iron, woodsmoke, and a dark, primal musk that made my inner feline beast purr in exhausted satisfaction. I forced my heavy eyelids open. The memories hit me in violent, jagged flashes. The glass of champagne Regina had handed me last night. The sudden, paralyzing fever. Stumbling into the guest wing to find ice, only to be pushed into the dark by my own stepsister. And then… the man. The massive, calloused hands that had anchored me when the aphrodisiac tore through my veins, claiming me with a desperate, consuming hunger until the sun came up.I turned my head. Sleeping beside me was the man I had given myself to. He was massive. A canvas of thick muscle and faded scars, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhyt

The silence in the grand hall didn't last long. Denial is a powerful thing, and Regina had too much pride to accept defeat. "Ridiculous!" Regina shrieked, breaking the suffocating tension. Her voice echoed sharply off the high ceilings as she marched toward Julian. "Stop spouting nonsense, Julian! Have you lost your mind? Look at her!"Regina jabbed a finger in my direction, her face twisted in an ugly sneer. "Her husband is the pack blacksmith! He is a filthy, soot-covered peasant with no wolf form! He swings a hammer for a living. He doesn’t have access to royal vaults!"Julian narrowed his eyes, clearly offended by her tone. "I have worked with the finest fabrics in the realm for three decades. I know the Aurora Silk when I see it.""Then she stole it!" Regina spat, her eyes flashing with venomous triumph. She turned to the crowd, raising her voice. "She must have stolen a cheap replica! Look at her! She stands here wearing a stolen dress, and where is the groom? He isn't even her

*Six Months Later* The early morning sun filtered through the small window of the stone cottage, casting a warm, golden glow over the tangled sheets. "I should be back by nightfall," Lycan murmured. His deep, gravelly voice vibrated against my skin as he pressed a lingering, fiercely possessive kiss to my bare shoulder. I sat up, pulling the thick quilt over my chest. Lycan was already dressed in his rough canvas trousers and a thick leather tunic, packing a heavy canvas bag slung over his broad shoulder. He told me there were urgent issues at the border, a massive trade caravan that required a large batch of newly forged horseshoes. I hated when he left, even for a day. Over the last six months, this tiny cottage and the beautiful garden behind it had become my entire world. The domestic peace we had built was worth every sacrifice, every rumor, and every mocking whisper from the pack. "Do you really have to go?" I asked softly, reaching out to trace the heavy silver scars

The sickening crunch of Victor’s shattered hands still echoed in the small, ruined cottage. Victor lay crumpled on the floorboards, sobbing and violently cradling his mangled fingers against his chest. But Lycan was not finished. The air in the room suddenly grew impossibly heavy, vibrating with a dark, suffocating energy. It wasn't just the dominant aura of an Alpha this was something ancient. Deep shadows began to bleed from Lycan’s armor, swirling around his massive frame like living smoke. The temperature in the cottage plummeted to freezing. Frost crept across the stone hearth, extinguishing the fire in a matter of seconds. Lycan raised his hand, his eyes burning with a blinding, bloodthirsty crimson light. A crackling, violent surge of raw mystical power materialized in his palm, humming with a terrifying, destructive frequency.Victor choked on his own blood, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the dark magic illuminating the blacksmith's face. "You... you low-life