Jubilee Moores
Anselm Tarrow has spent twelve years drinking poison to stay alive.
A male Omega in a kingdom that believes his kind is extinct, he hides what he is behind bitter tea and a lowered gaze. If anyone finds out, he’ll be killed or used.
Then the pack Alpha who has made his life miserable names him as the sacrifice to end the Hollowing, the curse that has been killing the royal line for sixty years. Ansel’s tea runs out on the road north. His heat breaks in a blizzard.
By the time he’s dragged before the Lycan King, there’s no hiding left.
“Please. Just kill me. I’m a freak who could get pregnant. I’d stain your bloodline.”
King Ulrich Daghan has buried two consorts and a child. He has stopped believing in hope. But when the scent of Ansel’s heat reaches him, a silver thread snaps tight between their chests, and the King says what nobody in the Cold Court expected:
“He is not a sacrifice. He is mine.”
Ulrich could take what the bond offers. Instead he guards the door all night and asks one quiet question: Why were you hiding?
Because the only one who can break the curse is a Moonbearer willing to bear a Daghan heir, and the man who profits from the curse is already sharpening his knives.
He expected death. He got a crown, a curse, and a mate who won’t let go.
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