Seraphina Nightbane was never meant to survive. Every fated mate she’s ever had is dead. Gone without a trace. Nobody. No scent. No answers. Now, no wolf dares to claim her. No pack will take her in. Because the message is clear—whoever mates her is as good as dead. But the Council doesn’t believe in curses. They believe in power. And an unmated she-wolf with no allegiance? That’s a threat they refuse to ignore. So they give her a choice. Take a mate. Or be exiled. But this time, she refuses to let fate decide for her. This time, she signs a contract. One deal. Four Alphas. A bond that never should have existed. Kieran Stormclaw—The ruthless Alpha King who doesn’t believe in love. Caspian & Cian Moonshadow—Twin Alphas, one cold and cunning, the other wild and unpredictable. Ronan Darkmoor—The cursed prince who looks at her like he already knows how this ends. She expects a political arrangement. A necessary evil. Nothing more. Then the first body appears. A wolf, slaughtered and left at her doorstep. A message written in its blood. "Your mate will die, just like the others." The curse isn’t done with her. The prophecy she’s spent her life running from is waking up. And the deeper she’s pulled into their world, the more she realizes— One will betray her. One will die for her. And one will try to kill her. She was never meant to have a mate. So why does fate refuse to let her go?
View MoreIf the dart didn’t kill us, the Council might.They arrived before sunrise. Four black cars pulled into the courtyard like sharks circling for blood. No flags. No insignia. Just cold engines and colder eyes behind tinted windows.We were already waiting. Kieran stood like a stone in front of the entrance. Ronan flanked him, arms crossed, unreadable. Caspian, expressionless. Cian... well, Cian looked like he’d rather bite than speak.And me? I stood between them all, the eye of a hurricane no one could seem to outrun.The doors opened. Three wolves stepped out. Two men, one woman. Their movements were too polished, too quiet. Not hunters. Not diplomats. Trained. Observant. Silent.Spies.The woman led. Jet-black hair pulled into a severe braid. Gray eyes. Sharp chin. She wore her authority like armor. "I’m Envoy Myra Vale," she said. "These are my associates, Dren and Kal. The Council has authorized a full internal review."Kieran didn’t move. "We didn’t ask for oversight.""You don’t
They didn’t go for me this time. They went for Ronan.We were barely five minutes into a strategy briefing when the windows blew in. One second we were arguing over guard rotations and safe room locations, the next—shattered glass and a hiss of air cut the room in half.Glass sprayed the floor, slicing the already thick tension in the room. A flash of silver cut through the air—a dart, thin and sharp, meant to be silent. Meant to be lethal. It struck the wall inches from Ronan’s head, the wood hissing where the metal sank in. A breath closer and he would’ve been dead.He didn’t flinch. That was what chilled me. Not the attack itself—we’d seen worse. But the way Ronan stared at the dart like it wasn’t even meant for him. As if death trying to shake his hand was just another boring meeting to endure.His eyes shifted slowly to the wall, to the shattered glass, then to me. Calm. Calculated."They’re escalating," he said. Just like that.Kieran was already at the broken window in seconds,
Sometimes, betrayal doesn’t come with a knife. Sometimes, it looks you in the eyes and says it loves you.The aftermath of the failed assassination attempt hung over the estate like fog. Heavy. Suffocating. No one said the word traitor out loud anymore, but it was in every glance, every unspoken pause between breaths. Trust had become currency—scarce, precious, unstable.We didn’t leave the main house. Not really. We lingered in shared spaces, feigned casual meals, over-guarded hallways. Everything was tense. Overcooked. I felt it every time one Alpha walked past another and didn’t speak. Our closeness had been burned through, and all that remained was the husk of what used to feel like unity.Caspian had taken to keeping records. A running list of patrols, guard shifts, item inventories, names. He wasn’t sleeping much. I passed by his study once in the middle of the night and saw him sitting with ink-stained hands, his jaw clenched as he scribbled notes like they were the only things
Trust is easy to offer until you realize you might be offering it to the one holding the blade.The bond had settled—but something about the quiet that followed made my skin itch. Not the kind of silence that came with peace. No. This was the kind that waited. Watched. The kind that tasted like betrayal on the back of your tongue before anyone said a word.By morning, the household moved differently. Tighter formations. More eyes on doors. More whispers. Word had spread that the bond had fully formed. No one said it aloud, but I saw it in their posture. Awe laced with fear. They didn’t know what it meant yet, and neither did I.The Alphas tried to act normal. Ronan made tea like he always did, though his grip on the cup was a fraction too tight. Caspian took his notes in the study, his pen never pausing even as his eyes flicked toward every sound. Cian sparred alone in the training yard like he could punch the anxiety out of his system. Kieran patrolled the grounds, eyes sharp, moveme
I woke with a name burning on my tongue—but when I tried to say it, it dissolved like ash.It clung to the edge of my thoughts, slippery and cruel. I sat upright, lungs heaving as if I’d surfaced from deep underwater. My sheets clung to me, damp and tangled, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if the sweat was from the vision or the panic that came after. I tried to hold on to the name, to trace the sound of it in my mind. But it vanished, like all the rest.Only one truth remained: the bond wasn’t waiting anymore. It was here.I dressed in silence, every movement slow, deliberate. My limbs were sore, my skin hypersensitive. The floor felt too cold, the air too sharp, my thoughts too loud. Something inside me had shifted. A storm brewing under my skin. The kind you didn’t outrun—the kind you endured.When I stepped into the hall, Ronan was waiting like he had been there for hours."It’s happening, isn’t it?" he asked. He didn’t blink.I nodded, rubbing my arms. "Too fast. Too hard. It doe
There are some dreams that feel more real than waking.When I finally drifted off after a long night of circling thoughts and second-guessing, the vision didn’t creep in—it slammed into me. No subtle whispers this time. No soft warnings. Just fire.It blazed in every direction, licking the walls of a circle drawn with blood. Symbols writhed across the ground like snakes, twisting and reshaping with every second. My bare feet stood at the center, stained red, breath hitching as power coiled around my ankles. The air pressed in from all sides, heavy and ancient and thick with meaning I didn’t understand but somehow knew mattered.Across the circle stood a figure, hooded, arms raised. They chanted words I didn’t recognize, but my bones understood. Words that called for sacrifice.And in the middle of the fire, suspended and bleeding, one of the Alphas hung by chains of light.His face was obscured—blurred like someone had smeared him with smoke. But I knew. Deep down, I knew.If I didn’t
Monsters rarely wore masks. The best ones wore familiar faces.By the time I got back to my quarters, the fire in my chest had turned into something else—a slow, quiet rage that curled up next to my bones like it belonged there. The others hadn’t noticed I was gone until I reappeared in the council hall just before dawn, Caspian behind me, the journal clutched to my chest like a weapon.I didn’t sleep that night. I tried. But sleep only teased, like a cruel friend brushing past my shoulder and disappearing before I could reach. I stared at the ceiling for hours, my body exhausted, my mind wide awake.When I finally closed my eyes, the vision came.It started with darkness, thick and absolute. But this wasn’t the kind that swallowed you whole. It was alive. Breathing. It pulsed with something ancient and watching.Then came the sound. Whispered words I couldn’t make out at first, like they were being spoken underwater. I turned in the vision, searching for something, anything. The air
I thought the worst truth was not knowing. I was wrong.It was knowing, finally, and realizing the silence had been safer.The morning after Caspian's claim, after Kieran’s retreat and his near-surrender to something that looked like compromise, I needed clarity. Not from the Alphas. Not from prophecy. From my own cursed past.I slipped out before dawn, leaving a note behind so they wouldn’t tear the territory apart looking for me. The forest was quiet, heavy with dew and old magic. My boots crunched over undergrowth, and every step toward the hidden archives felt like trudging through molasses. Each breath I took felt heavier than the last, like the truth was a stone tied to my ribs. The quiet was welcome and suffocating at once.Ronan had once told me about the sealed records. The ones that didn’t make it into the Council's official archives. The ones buried beneath stone and spell and time. He hadn’t said I couldn’t go there. But he hadn’t exactly handed me a key either.I used the
It didn’t feel like freedom. Not yet.Knowing I had a choice was one thing. Knowing what to do with it was something else entirely. My whole life had been about surviving what came at me, not deciding who I wanted to be. And standing between four Alphas who would bleed for me? That wasn’t power. That was pressure. Immense. Suffocating. Some days, I couldn’t breathe under it.The wind bit as we rode back into the compound, and I felt raw. Like the scroll had peeled back something inside me and left it exposed to the world. I kept running the seer's words over in my head: the hand that breaks or the one that weaves. But what if both hands were mine? What if I wove something only to watch it tear apart anyway?Kieran dismounted first, silent as always when his thoughts turned sharp. Ronan gave me a look that lingered, the kind that didn’t press for answers but knew they were coming. Cian stretched his arms with a grunt, already asking someone for food. And Caspian—He didn’t say anything
They called me cursed.Not in the way people threw around bad luck or superstition. Not the kind of curse you could shake off with a stiff drink and a forced laugh. No, mine came with whispered warnings and wolves who wouldn't meet my eyes. It came with dead mates and a reputation that clung to me like a second skin.And now, it came with a contract.The Council chamber smelled like burning sage and old power. Ten Elders sat in a semicircle, their expressions showing that they were emotionless, because their faces were blank, some showing quite disdain. In front of me, there’s a parchment laying on a polished mahogany table, it's the parchment that determines what will happen to me.Either good or bad."You understand what this means, Seraphina Nightbane?" Elder Garrick spoke with the heavy voice of a man who had controlled too many lives"I sank into my chair and folded my arms across my chest. "That you’ve officially washed your hands of me?"A few of the Elders stiffened. Garrick, un...
Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
Comments