Lucas' POV
The girl's boots dragged against the restaurant's marble steps, scuffing gloss into dust. Her coat hung loose, threadbare at the elbows—a thrift-store relic in a kingdom of gold trim and crystal. I didn't blame the hostess for curling her lip.
This is the human quarter of Mediland. A high-end steakhouse in the human world is supposed to be stunk of judgment.
"No reservations?"The hostess flicked her gaze over the girl's messy cropped hair, the grease and blood clots crusted on her hem. Her voice was polished ice. "We're full. Try the soup kitchen down the block."
The girl didn't flinch. Just stared at the chandelier, jaw working like she was chewing the light itself. I leaned against the podium, leather gloves creaking. "Tell Danny I'm here."
"The manager?" A laugh, sharp as broken stemware. "I'm sorry, Sir. You look like a decent gentleman, but he doesn't entertain strays."
Then the doors swung open, and the scent hit me -
Lucas' POVThe girl looked nervous as I hauled her into the Mediland's golden throat. The mall's fluorescence carved the girl into something spectral. She hovered between racks of silk and chiffon, fingers brushing fabric like she expected it to bite. The salesgirls' laughter hung sharp in the air - hyenas circling a limping doe.To my surprise, my hearing was back. I could clearly hear what they were mumbling behind the racks. "Look at her. Poor little rat. How could someone like her end up with Alpha Lucas?" a girl whispered."Gold digger. Social climber. Boot licker...""And cock sucker!"They giggled.I silently sighed and ignored them.I looked at the girl. She looked overwhelmed. I knew she must have heard what they'd said. She lowered her head and stood there, looking lost.I walked to her."Pick something," I said."I don't need anything..." the girl looked horrified at the price tags. "Could
Finn's POVThe studio gates loomed like iron teeth. I stepped through, the scent of fake blood and sweat slapping me harder than the California heat. Outside, the Hills smoldered, ash staining the sky. Inside, they’d built a pantomime of apocalypse - extras in matted fur howling at a green screen, their plastic fangs glinting under klieg lights.A director barked into a headset. "Action!"A truck flipped, screeching on cables. A blonde actress spilled out, naked and screaming. From the rafters, a man in denim descended, Gatling gun roaring blanks. Extras dropped, melodramatic, as he scooped her up. Their kiss was all teeth, a parody of passion."Cut!" The director rubbed his temples.Complaints about the heat erupted - especially from the actress, who snatched a robe and cursed the air conditioner's death."Lycidas, could you try to use your tounge this time?" the director shouted.The cowboy - Lycidas - flashed a grin, all wolf
Lucas' POVThe Green Point bar stank of sweat and spilled whiskey. I watched the girl's throat work as she gulped the beer, amber liquid dripping down her chin like stolen honey. Her knuckles whitened around the glass. Thirsty little thing. Starving in ways I couldn't name."Did you...enjoy the beer?" I asked."It tastes like piss, but I'm thirsty," she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand."And did you enjoy today?" The question tasted rusty. Leah's ghost perched on the barstool between us, her hollow socket accusing me.The girl's shoulders hitched first. Silent sobs shook her frame, tears plinking into her empty glass. My chest tightened - that old reflex, that ancient guilt."What's going on? Did I do something wrong?" I held her hand and asked."It's just..." Her voice cracked like autumn leaves underboot. "Feels like the first real day. Like I've been sleepwalking till now. I've never been out for a proper date like this wi
Leah's POVWhere am I? A hotel?I woke to the weight of my own bones. I was like lead was being poured into a silk bathrobe.Sunlight stabbed through bulletproof glass. My skull pulsed with the rhythm of last night's beer bottles shattering against pavement. Memory came in shards: sticky bar stools, Lucas' laugh cutting through smoke, my own laughter curdling into retching. No blood. No teeth. Just the sour aftertaste of survival.The bathroom door hissed open.He moved like spilled ink - Alpha Lucas with his tailored cruelty, holding a glass where effervescent tablets hissed like trapped wasps. I clutched the quilt to my collarbones. His smirk was a blade drawn slowly across leather."Decency's really unnecessary in front of me, since I've already seen everything," he grinned. The glass clinked on marble. "Drink."I tasted ozone. My fingers trembled against Egyptian cotton. "Did you...?""Touch you?" He leaned into the bed's g
Gean's POVThe coffee burned my palm, bitter and unnecessary. Leo's absence hit me before I crossed the threshold - no clatter of vials, no muttered curses at malfunctioning equipment. Just cold sheets twisted into knots, still damp with the metallic tang of his sweat. I let the mug steam on the nightstand. Sentimentality wasted caffeine.The lab's vault door hissed open beneath my fingerprints. Banks of monitors flickered, their screens vomiting equations Leo had scribbled in manic spirals last night. The centrifuge whirred, empty. A single glove floated in a petri dish, skin cells dissolving like sugar in tea. My reflection warped in the machine's chrome surface: a businessman's haircut, a butcher's eyes.The secret door behind the cryo-chamber yielded to pressure. Dank air rushed up the tunnel, carrying the sweetness of rotting meat. My polished shoes crushed syringes, their contents smeared across stone like neon graffiti. Halfway down, a severed hand clutch
Leah's POVI stared at the dress thrown on my bed.It spread out like a blossom of weaving lies.I'd been counting the crystals on the chandelier in the ceiling when Lucas appeared - thirty-seven of them shaped like teardrops. He filled the doorway without touching its frame, that cursed crimson fabric draped over his forearm like a skinned serpent. Sunlight caught the black embroidery. I wondered how many slaves had bled to stitch those constellations."Wear this." He tossed it onto 800 thread Egyptian cotton quilt. The silk slithered against my bare knees, colder than the iron collar I'd worn in the slave market.I waited, bathrobe clutched tight. Three heartbeats. Four. The clock above the bed - still smelling of his cologne - ticked like a dying thing. When I turned, Lucas hadn't moved. He'd claimed the wingback chair, legs spread in that infuriating mimicry of relaxation. Sunlight through the French window caught the flawless profile of his fa
Leah's POVThe wind stole my scream. Or maybe I never made a sound. My body cut through the air like a rusted blade - all jagged edges and decaying purpose. Fingertips brushed cold metal, rope, the ghost of a railing that wasn't there anymore. My remaining eye watered; the hollow where the other had been throbbed in time with the seagulls' shrieks.Salt. Rotting kelp. Diesel fumes.The smells hit before the memory did.I'd done this before.Not the falling- the choosing.A bridge materialized behind my eyelids, its girders bleeding rust into black water. My palms remembered the chill of that rail, the way my bones had vibrated as trucks roared past. The sunset had looked like fire consuming a photograph, edges curling, everything reddening before the burn.That man.His face came sharper than the pain of shattered ribs. Diplomat's uniform starched to knife-edge perfection, motorcycle helmet dangling carelessly from one hand. He
Lucas' POVThe harbor air clung thick with salt and diesel rot, the kind of humidity that made lungs feel like wet paper bags. I adjusted the delivery crew cap - too small, its plastic brim digging into my brow - and watched the girl mimic my motions. Her uniform sleeves hung loose, hiding arms that shouldn't have been strong enough to snap a man's spine."Steady," she murmured as the cargo ship groaned against the dock. Her voice was wind through dead leaves, a sound that made my hollow chest ache.My chest, once filled with the rhythmic pulse of life, now lies hollow and empty. What once was organic and vibrant has transformed into a void, where the girl's voice sweeps through like a gust of winter wind through a desolate graveyard.Leaning against the mast, I thought to myself-Leah's voice had been honey and wildfire. The girl's voice was neither.The gate ahead yawned like a rusted jaw, its chain-links strangled by ivy. A single red bul
Leah's POVLiam stared. "What the hell are you?"I wiped my hands on his jacket. "Hungry."He laughed then, wild and unhinged. "You're crazy.""Crazy enough to fix your problems. If you obey.""Obey?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's kinky."I stared at him. "You want to save your grandmother? Stop playing gangster. You're a joke."His smile died. "Yeah? And what's your deal? Some kinda runaway mob wife?""Like you can't even imagine." I released him.Silence.He rubbed his neck. "Fine. What's the plan, boss?"I glanced at the photo. The old woman's eyes glared back, unyielding. "First, we get some money.""From where?"-Vinny's nightclub reminded me of Sheridan Club. It was a cacophony of neon lights and pounding bass, the kind of place where secrets were buried under the weight of too much noise and too many bodies.I walked in with Liam trailing behind me, his face still bruised
Leah's POVThe first thing I remembered was the cold. Not winter's bite, but the slick, oily chill of concrete against bare skin. My knees were scraped raw. My breath came in ragged bursts, fogging the air like gun smoke. I pressed my palms flat against the alley wall, felt the grime cling to my fingertips.Naked. The word slithered through my skull, venomous. Not just my body - my pride flayed open, left to rot beside dumpsters reeking of stale beer and regret.What the hell has happened to me? I remembered stabbing Lucas in the chest and walking into the flames.Now here I am. Naked in some sort of back alley.Voices slithered from the street."Lookie here... fresh meat. Yummy..." a man slurred. Three shadows lurched into the alley, their laughter wet and jagged. One held a bottle by its neck; the glass caught the neon buzz of the bar sign above. Red Rabbit Tavern. The letters bled crimson down the brick.Is this... human world?
Lycidas' POVLucian shook his head, his eyes closing as if the effort of speaking was too much.Late afternoon light slashed through barred windows, gilding dust motes that swirled like trapped spirits above Lucian's bed. My brother's once-indomitable frame now sank into feather pillows as if the mattress conspired to swallow him whole. His labored breaths syncopated with the grandfather clock's metronome tick-tock, tick-tockfrom the western wall - a sound that had scored every pivotal moment of our cursed lineage. I counted them as one counts heartbeats before execution: thirty-seven ticks since he'd last spoken. Seventy-three since I'd entered this tomb disguised as a king's quarters.When Lucian finally stirred, his eyelids lifted like rusted portcullises. Sunlight caught the silver threads in his black beard - premature aging, or the Moon Goddess' fingerprints? "Lycidas," he exhaled, the name disintegrating into a wet cough. I watched his thro
Lucian's POVJalin seized my chin, wrenching my face back to the mirror. "Are you waiting for me to dress you, Your Majesty?" His hands slid down, slow and possessive, unbuttoning my shirt with deliberate malice. The fabric parted, exposing my sunken chest, and his gloved fingers lingered, tracing the jut of my ribs. I grabbed his wrists, my frail grip trembling. "I'm tired," I whispered, voice a broken thread. "I don't want to see anyone today."Jalin sneered and tore the shirt from my shoulders, seams splitting like skin. He shoved me from the wheelchair, and I crashed to the floor, legs limp, a puppet with slashed strings. "Your brother's coming," he hissed, looming over me. "If you greet him like this - pathetic, lifeless - he'll think I've neglected my duties." His eyes burned with that familiar madness, a sadistic gleam that promised torment.I shrank back, breath shallow, rasping, "Jalin, please don't…" But he didn't pause. His hand fisted my hair,
Lycidas' POVI looked down at him, my jaw tight. "If you want the thing between us to work," I said, my voice low and dangerous, "you need to know some ground rules. The first and most important one is that you stay the fuckout of my family business. Do you understand?"He met my gaze, his eyes calm, unflinching. "Yes, Your Highness, I understand. But the thing is, since you entered the Kingdom, all your actions have been under the control of the Court. They reported your arrival to His Majesty, who summoned me last night..." I grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the mirror. The glass cracked under the force, shards raining down around us. His face was scratched, blood trickling down his cheek, but he didn't struggle."Did you go and see my brother last night?! Did he fuck you?!" I roared.He whispered, "Your Highness, Lucian is sick now. He didn't...""If you mention my brother's name again," I snarled, "I'
Lycidas' POVI woke to the sting of sunlight slicing through the heavy drapes, the kind of light that felt like a mockery after the night I’d had. My head throbbed, a dull ache that seemed to echo the chaos of my thoughts. I rubbed my eyes, squinting at the room around me. It was obscenely luxurious, every surface polished to a blinding sheen, every piece of furniture carved with ornate, gaudy details. I sat up, the silk sheets slipping off my bare skin, and let out a bitter laugh. Finn's bedroom?The place reeked of excess, of a desperate attempt to mask something hollow. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. The air smelled faintly of cedar and something metallic—blood, maybe, or the ghost of it. I stood, stretching the stiffness from my limbs, and made my way to the bathroom. The shower was scalding, the water slamming into my skin like punishment. I leaned against the tiled wall, let
Finn's POVLycidas didn't buy it. His clawed hand seized my hair, wrenching my head back so hard my neck screamed, and I gasped, the pretense slipping as pain flared."Fucking slut, is that all they'd taught you?!" he spat, raking his claws down my spine, tearing skin, spilling blood. I whimpered - half act, half truth—and he sneered, pressing his heat against me, his cock a brutal threat between my thighs. "You're a fucking disgrace. A whimpering slut who'd spread for any cock that paid."I clenched my jaw, nodding like I hated it, but the words sank into me, heavy and hot. "Yes, Your Highness. But now, I am yours..." I choked out, still clinging to the lie of reluctance, but then he slammed me face-first into the hardwood floor, his hands pinning my neck, and the air left me. He thrust in, no warning, no mercy, and the pain - fuck, the familiar, thrilling pain - was a jagged blade splitting me open. I screamed, the sound raw and real, my mask shattering
Finn's POVThe air in Mediland was thick with the stench of desperation and decay, a familiar reek that clung to the walls of the slave market like a second skin. I stepped through the rusted gates, my boots crunching over gravel and broken glass. The place was still a cesspool of misery, still a monument to the cruelty of the worst of the worst. But this time, I didn't feel the usual weight of despair pressing down on my chest. No, this time, I felt… light. My plan was going on smoothly.Lycidas, the fucking Lycan Prince, was here. In my territory. In my office. The thought almost made me smile. He'd spent years parading around the human world, basking in the adoration of his fans, untouchable. But now, he was mine. The fire in Los Angeles had been a stroke of luck - or perhaps fate. The paparazzi had scattered, and for the first time in years, Lycidas was vulnerable. Cole met me at the entrance, his face grim. "His Highness Lycidas
Lucas' POV"Alpha Lucas!" Dr. Jafar exclaimed, rushing to my bedside. "I saw the changes in your vitals on the screen and came as soon as I could. This is a miracle! You woke up!" I dismissed Jorah with a nod, and he left reluctantly, his eyes lingering on me as if afraid I'd vanish. "Dr. Jafar," I said, my voice low and urgent. "Did you perform the disguise surgery on Leah?"He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. It was Finn's order, but it was my work. We had to change her appearance - everyone was hunting her...""What exactly did you do to her?" I asked.The doctor looked hesitant, but eventually he said, "We had to apply bionic skin, but her body rejected it at first. We had to keep injecting her with suppressants. And we… we reduced her height with bone surgery. It was painful, but necessary. Alpha Lucas, I felt so guilty about what I had done. That was why I was trying to remind you of her presence. I tried so hard to p