The tension in the room thickened, the air heavy with something I couldn’t quite place. King Dalton’s hand on my elbow was steady, firm but gentle, and for a split second, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to push him away or lean into his strength. My body was practically begging for rest, each bone, each muscle screaming in protest, but my mind? My mind was a storm of indignation. I wasn’t ready to admit defeat, not to him, not to anyone.His golden eyes locked with mine, a flicker of something curious in them that caught me off guard. “You’re stubborn,” he said, his lips curving slightly in what I could only describe as amusement.I straightened, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through my ribs with the motion. “And you’re insufferable,” I snapped before I could even think it through.He didn’t take offense, to my surprise. Instead, he chuckled—a deep, low sound that seemed to resonate from his chest and roll over me like a wave. “Perhaps,” he agreed, “but insufferable kings tend to s
The explosion outside shattered the fragile moment between us, the shockwave sending a tremor through the room. My heart skipped a beat, and before I could react, Dalton’s golden eyes snapped from mine to the window. His hand dropped from my body as if he were a different man altogether. In an instant, the intimate atmosphere vanished, replaced by something sharp and lethal.“Stay here,” he commanded, his voice low, sharp, and filled with an authority that left no room for defiance.I wanted to protest, to demand answers about what had just happened, but the way his gaze hardened—like stone—made my throat tighten. No argument would get through him. His posture was rigid, his entire being tense with the kind of focus that suggested danger was close. In a flash, he spun on his heel and strode toward the door with a cold, deliberate pace.As he reached the door, he paused, casting a glance over his shoulder. His expression remained fierce, but there was something in his eyes—something de
“F**k.” Dalton’s curse sliced through the chaos, and in the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor shifted. His posture stiffened, his muscles tensing as if some unseen force had triggered a primal instinct within him. His once warm, intense gaze turned cold, razor-sharp, and calculating.I followed his gaze upward, my breath catching in my throat as cracks began to form across the ceiling, jagged and ominous, like a deadly spider’s web. Dust and dirt began seeping through the cracks, signaling an impending collapse. My heart pounded harder in my chest, the once surreal, intimate moment now replaced by a wave of panic.Before I could even process what was happening, the ceiling above us buckled, and in an instant, everything went dark as debris rained down upon us. I couldn’t scream. There wasn’t enough time to react before the explosion detonated, sending a force so powerful it hurled us both to the ground. The windows shattered in a thousand shards, sending glass flying across the ro
The world around me blurred as time seemed to stretch into infinity. My head was pounding, my heart racing, but I forced myself to look up through the car window. It was smeared with blood, bits of flesh from the doctor, and I struggled to keep my eyes from lingering on it. Instead, I focused on the chaos unfolding just feet away from me. I watched as a rogue flew out of one of the windows, his body tumbling through the air, shards of glass scattering in every direction. When he hit the ground, the sickening thud echoed in the space around us. His scream tore through the air, a sound I would never forget.Then, Dalton pushed open the door to the hospital hallway. The sound of it creaking on its hinges barely registered over the pounding in my ears, but what came next was impossible to ignore. He stepped into the wreckage, his body a taut wire of tension, his senses heightened. The acrid stench of smoke, burning debris, and blood filled the air. His eyes darted over the room, scanning
The dim moonlight filtered through a crack in the window, casting an ethereal glow over the unfamiliar room. My body sank into the soft bed, the silky sheets wrapping around me like a cocoon. The sensation was luxurious, far too perfect. This wasn’t my world. My cabin had no sheets, let alone a bed like this. My chest tightened.Was I dreaming?I stretched my fingers across the fabric, tracing its softness, grounding myself in its undeniable reality. No, this wasn’t a dream. My head throbbed, a deep, pounding ache that made me wince. Memories of the chaos flooded back—the rogues, the screams, the blood. I moved to sit up, but my body protested with sharp, unforgiving pain, reminding me of every injury I’d endured. Even breathing felt like a monumental effort.With a trembling hand, I pushed the sheets away and reached up to touch my temple, flinching as my fingers met a tender, swollen spot. It was as if every nerve in my body screamed for rest, but panic had already taken hold. Where
The dim moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, painting a faint glow across the room as I sat frozen, staring into the eyes of the Lycan King. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the faint rustle of the night breeze. Dalton’s piercing gaze was unrelenting, and with every passing second, it felt like he was peeling away the layers of my defenses, exposing the raw, fragile pieces I desperately tried to protect.Survival. That’s all I could focus on now. My mind raced, sifting through every conceivable way out of this nightmare. Maybe I could spin a story—claim to be a rogue orphaned by a pack’s cruelty. But no, the man seated before me wasn’t one to fall for tales. His authority stretched across territories like a web, each thread connecting him to every pack, every secret. A lie wouldn’t just fail; it would backfire spectacularly.Feigning amnesia? Possible, but unlikely to work. His presence alone made deceit feel futile. His very being demanded honesty, as if the air a
The heavy scent of parchment and ink filled the air as I sat at the head of my office, the familiar weight of responsibility pressing down on my shoulders. But my thoughts weren’t on the kingdom today. No, they were on her—Olivia Archer. A rogue, a supposed traitor, and yet, she had done the impossible: she had gotten under my skin.I leaned back in my chair, absently spinning a paperweight between my fingers. Feisty, wild, and maddeningly unpredictable, she was unlike anyone I’d encountered. Women threw themselves at me all the time—Alphas’ daughters with their polished manners and carefully crafted smiles, hoping to become my queen. But Olivia? She resisted me at every turn.I smirked at the thought. Even now, I could see her fiery glare, her lips pressed into a thin line as if daring me to challenge her again. She didn’t care that I was the Lycan King. She didn’t care that one word from me could end her life. And that made her... dangerous.“She’s more than that,” Beast growled in
The luxurious room around me did little to soothe the storm in my chest. Plush carpets muffled every sound, fine furniture gleamed under the soft lighting, and the scent of roses drifted in from the open window. A massive wardrobe loomed to my left, its golden knobs glinting like taunts. To my right, the garden sprawled—a masterpiece of nature and man. Flowers spilled over stone pathways, fountains sang their gentle tunes, and gazebos stood like promises of peace. Peace. I didn’t feel it here. This wasn’t a sanctuary. It was a cage. A beautiful, gilded prison built by the Lycan King himself. Dalton. My fingers brushed over my lips as the memory of his kiss resurfaced, unbidden and unwelcome. A hot flush of shame and fury burned my cheeks. I clenched my fists, pushing the thought aside. That man had no right to take what wasn’t his, yet his presence lingered in my mind like a shadow. The knock at the door startled me. “May I come in?” Maria’s gentle voice called through t
The tension in the dining hall was suffocating. Silence stretched, thick with shock and unspoken words. Cynthia’s face was frozen in disbelief, her lips parting as if to argue, but no sound came out.The entire pack had turned their attention to Dalton, waiting for his reaction. But he didn’t even spare Cynthia a glance.His golden eyes locked onto mine.Dalton exhaled sharply, the sound slicing through the tension. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he pushed back his chair and stood. The scrape of wood against stone echoed in the vast hall.I braced myself, expecting his rejection. This was a public moment—there was no way he would choose me over Cynthia, over tradition.But then he spoke."I should have done this a long time ago."Cynthia sucked in a breath, her composure cracking. She reached for him in desperation, her fingers curling around his wrist. “Dalton, don’t—”He turned on her, his voice laced with finality. “Enough, Cynthia.”The authority in his tone sent a ripple
Cynthia’s laughter rang out like delicate chimes, blending with the soft click of her stilettos as she walked beside Dalton. She wore a flowing gown with a daring slit, exuding effortless confidence, while Dalton kept to his usual laid-back style—his maroon shirt fitted snugly against his frame, the sleeves rolled up as if he had just finished something that required his hands.Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, Cynthia reached for his arm, her fingers curling around his elbow with practiced familiarity.I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to suppress the sharp sting of jealousy creeping through my veins."I told you that would happen," she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "But you’re just too stubborn to listen."Dalton chuckled, a low, careless sound. "Can’t help it."Cynthia moved even closer, taking his hand in both of hers. "Well, at least your knuckles aren’t bloodied anymore." Her fingers lightly traced the back of his hand, a gesture that made something dark and ug
The usual sharp scent of shower gels and soaps didn’t overwhelm me this time. It was strange, but in a good way. The absence of that sharp sting to my senses felt liberating as I peeled off my clothes and turned on the shower, letting the warm water cascade over my skin.Steam curled around me, wrapping me in a comforting embrace. I stood there for a moment, letting the heat sink into my muscles, soothing the exhaustion clinging to my bones. It felt indulgent—taking my time, not rushing through, simply allowing myself to be.Reaching for the bottle of shower gel, I studied it for a second before flipping the cap open and inhaling the fragrance. Strong, floral, and fresh. Would Thunder hate this? Probably. But she hadn’t stirred, hadn’t complained. Maybe she needed the rest. Maybe I needed this too.A slow smile tugged at my lips as I squeezed the gel onto my loofah, working up a thick lather. The scent lingered as I ran the sponge across my skin, scrubbing away the fatigue, the tensio
The night air was thick with the lingering scent of burnt herbs and melted wax. I stood still, watching Drusilla as she busied herself gathering the remnants of her ritual—half-melted candles, scattered herbs, and delicate threads of incense curling into the night. Earlier, she had been a bundle of nerves, her hands trembling as she worked, but now she moved with a quiet confidence. A soft hum left her lips as she tucked away the last of her tools, her posture lighter, almost relieved.Dalton flexed his fingers, his gaze locked onto his hand where I had made the incision. The cut had sealed without a trace, as if it had never been there. Even the wisp that had appeared during the ritual had faded into nothingness.I glanced down at my own wrist. No mark. No sign that anything had changed.Dalton broke the silence. “Are you sure it worked?” His voice was flat, but there was an edge of skepticism beneath it as he rolled his sleeves back down.Drusilla nodded, exhaling. “The wisp showed
The air felt heavier than before, thick with the scent of damp stone and candle wax. My breath was slow and measured, but my heartbeat was anything but calm.Dalton stood opposite me, his golden eyes fixed on mine, unwavering and unreadable. The weight of his gaze pressed down on me, as if he were silently asking me if I truly understood what we were about to do. I wasn’t sure if I did.Drusilla moved with practiced ease, setting out her ritual tools with careful precision. She knelt near the base of the stone statue, her hands deftly pulling out an aged, leather-bound book from her bag. She flipped through its brittle, yellowed pages, muttering under her breath.“Okay,” she finally spoke, glancing up at us. “Both of you, stand right here.” She pointed at a spot directly in front of the statue.I swallowed and stepped forward, the chill of the underground chamber seeping into my skin. Dalton let out a quiet sigh but followed suit, his movements slow, deliberate.Drusilla’s fingers tra
My gaze lingered on Dalton for a moment too long before Drusilla suddenly latched onto my wrist, her grip firm and urgent.“Come on,” she huffed, practically dragging me away.I stumbled slightly, trying to keep up. “Where are we going?”Drusilla didn’t even look back. She snatched a set of car keys from the office table and shot me a pointed look. “Do you think we’re performing the ritual in an office? Seriously?”Before I could respond, she flicked my forehead—hard enough to make me wince. “Ow,” I muttered, rubbing the sore spot.“Stop whining and walk faster.” She pulled me down the stairs with surprising strength, leading me straight to the garage.With a press of a button, the heavy metal door rumbled open, revealing a row of sleek, luxurious cars, each one polished to perfection under the fluorescent lights.Drusilla turned to me with an exaggerated flourish. “Well? Feeling fancy today?”I glanced at the cars, their glossy exteriors reflecting the dim garage lighting. I wasn’t e
Drusilla turned sharply, her usually composed expression slipping as frustration bled into her tone.“Do you not understand? She’s our only chance! You lost control once—just once—and look at the damage you caused.”Dalton’s jaw tightened. His response was immediate, sharp. “Exactly. I am the problem. I should be the one taking the risks. Not her. Not anyone else.”The room felt like a battlefield, their voices clashing as they circled the same argument. No matter how fiercely Drusilla tried to make him see reason, Dalton rejected every word.And I—silent, watching—stood between them, feeling torn. Drusilla’s concern for Dalton was clear, but what surprised me was that he cared about me. He wasn’t selfish enough to let me risk myself just because his life was hanging in the balance. That meant something.Drusilla exhaled sharply, forcing patience. “You don’t understand, Cal. The Rogue King’s influence is growing stronger. Yesterday, it was just the servants and maids who saw your outb
I hated the way Dalton always had such firm control over himself. I hated how, even in the heat of the moment, when his lips were on mine and his hands traced fire along my skin, he could pull away like it was nothing.I despised the way hunger burned in his gaze only to vanish in an instant, replaced by something calmer—something controlled. How could he rein himself in so effortlessly while I was barely holding myself together?If it were me, I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else except the way his lips molded against mine, the way his hands claimed me, the way his presence ignited something deep within me.But Dalton?He stepped away with infuriating ease, as if what had just happened between us was nothing. His movements were deliberate, composed—grabbing a towel as if he needed to busy his hands with something mundane rather than acknowledge what had just transpired.I exhaled, steadying my breath, trying to do the same. I straightened my clothes, ran my fingers
The hunger in his gaze was unmistakable. A raw, insatiable need burned in his eyes, and I knew—I felt—that I was the only one who could satisfy it.And I was ready.The moment his lips crashed against mine, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. His kiss wasn’t soft or careful—it was fierce, unrelenting, like he was staking his claim on me. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his hard body as heat surged through me, making my skin tingle and my breath hitch.I melted into him, my body thrumming with electricity, every nerve alive and aching for more. Only he could do this to me. Only Dalton could awaken this fire inside me, a fire that had been smoldering, waiting for him to ignite it.His hands traced the curve of my back, branding me with his touch. His lips moved with a desperate urgency, parting mine, his tongue sweeping inside, tangling with mine in a battle of dominance. A sharp gasp left me as he nipped at my bottom lip, the