Theo’s room smells like him—like rain and something faintly metallic, like the edge of a storm. I’m on my knees, scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the wooden floor, my hands raw and stinging from the soap. The pack house is never clean enough for them, and neither am I. But Theo’s room is different. It’s quieter here, softer. The walls are lined with books, and the bed is always unmade, like he’s just rolled out of it. I don’t mind cleaning this space. It feels like the closest I’ll ever get to being part of something.The door creaks open, and I freeze. He’s here. I don’t look up, not right away. I keep scrubbing, even though my hands are trembling. I can feel his eyes on me, heavy and unreadable. “You don’t always have to do that,” Theo says, his voice low and steady. I finally glance up, and there he is, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. He’s wearing a dark sweater that makes his hair look even lighter, almost golden in the dim light. He sends me a small smi
The kitchen is hot, steam rising from the pots on the stove and clinging to my skin like a second layer. My arms ache from carrying the pail of milk, the weight of it pulling at my shoulders. I’m not built for this—not like them. My human body is weak compared to theirs, and the cook never lets me forget it.“Hurry up, girl!” she snaps, her voice sharp as a whip. “You’re slower than a snail in winter. What’s taking you so long?”I bite my tongue, forcing myself not to respond. She’s been scolding me all morning, even though I’ve been on my feet since dawn, scrubbing floors, peeling vegetables, and hauling supplies. Nothing I do is ever enough for her. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, setting the pail down with a thud. My hands are trembling, and I can feel the blisters forming on my palms. “I’ll try to be faster.”“Try?” she scoffs, her hands on her hips. “You should be doing, not trying. Useless, that’s what you are. A human in a wolf’s world. What good are you?”I flinch at her words, but
I sift through the files in my father’s royal study, the scent of aged parchment and oak filling the air. The fireplace crackles in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the dark walls lined with books of law, history, and the many conquests of Golden Crest. My father’s meticulous handwriting marks the margins of various documents, but one file catches my eye—a thick, yellowed folder labeled 'Moonhaven Case'.I pull it out and flip through the contents, my brow furrowing with every page. Moonhaven. The wolf pack that somehow broke out of Golden Crest’s authority. A lawless land, untouched by the kingdom's rule. And yet, here it is—a case file, an unresolved issue, one that should have been dealt with ten years ago.I clench my jaw. How the hell did my father let this slide?I slam the folder shut and lean back in the chair, my fingers drumming against the polished wood of his desk. This is unacceptable. A pack operating outside of our rule is a direct threat to our sove
The dining hall hums with the clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversation. The long wooden table is overflowing with roasted meats, steaming vegetables, and goblets of deep red wine that glisten under the flickering chandelier light. The air smells of rosemary and thyme, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the silverware. I move quietly around the table, refilling glasses and serving plates, trying to stay invisible. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years—being unseen, unheard. But tonight, my hands tremble, my thoughts a chaotic mess.At the head of the table, Alpha Rowan, my uncle, commands attention effortlessly. His hard golden eyes sweep over the council members as he discusses pack resources, his deep voice cutting through the room like a blade. He’s dressed in his usual dark tunic, the fabric tailored to perfection, the golden crest of Moonhaven embroidered on his chest. He looks every bit the Alpha, every bit the man who holds my fate in his hands.
The market square is bustling, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and ripe fruit. I weave through the crowd, my basket swinging at my side, when I see him. Darius. My heart skips a beat, then plummets. He’s standing by the fountain, his dark hair catching the sunlight, his posture relaxed and confident. But it’s not just him. There’s a girl beside him, her laughter ringing out like a bell, too loud, too close. She’s beautiful, with black curls and a smile that seems to stretch too wide. They’re leaning in, heads almost touching, and my chest tightens.I shouldn’t care. We’re not officially mated yet, but we’re fated. He’s mine, and I’m his. So why does it feel like a knife is twisting in my gut?His head snaps up, as if he senses me watching. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world narrows to just him. His lips curl into that familiar smirk, the one that makes my stomach flutter even when I know it shouldn’t. He raises a hand, beckoning me over. My feet move before
The scent of blood lingers thick in the air, mixing with the damp earth beneath my boots. The moon barely cuts through the thick canopy of trees, casting long shadows over the fallen bodies. Their lifeless forms lie sprawled across the ground, the fight drained from them. It was over fast—too fast. Three rogues, dead before they even had a chance to scream. It’s not satisfying. It’s just... work.Ethan nudges one of the corpses with his boot, his expression bored. "Well, that was disappointing," he mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was hoping they’d at least put up a decent fight. Maybe throw a punch or two. But no, they just flopped over like dead fish. Pathetic."I wipe the blood off my blade, watching as the crimson soaks into the dirt. The forest is quiet now, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. "They weren’t fighters," I say, my voice even. "Just scouts. Testing the borders. Seeing how far they could push before we pushed back."Ethan scoffs, stepping
"He can't mate with this. Not my only pup!" Olivia, the mother of my mate, Darius, sneers, her brown eyes flickering with disgust as she yanks his arm from my grasp.We're in the clearing not so far from the pack house where mating ceremonies are held, with the moon hanging over us like a dull bulb, casting long shadows over her face and making her look more menacing than she usually is."Heck, she can't mate anybody," someone else says from somewhere behind me.Darius begins moving away from me, and I instinctively reach out to try to stop him, but he's too far from my grasp.Around us, the pack stands in the clearing, their eyes glinting with satisfaction in the harsh silver light of the full moon."Darius..." I whisper, reaching out to him still, but his face hardens."You’re nothing but the pack’s shame," he says, his voice cold and cutting. "The daughter of a woman who threw away her destiny for a human.""Do you have to remind me? She loved him and that's all that–""Look where
"Let me go!" I yell, thrashing against his iron grip as he drags me out of the car.The car has finally stopped and we find ourselves somewhere I definitely don't know. I have never been out of my pack walls before, so for all I know, I just might be in a new universe.So many questions passed through my head during the lond drive.Who is he?Why did he save me?Did he save me?What are his intentions with me?Anytime I tried to voice them out, all I got was a low growl, so I came up with this silly idea of keeping quiet and protesting when the car finally stopped.Well...here I am, flailing my arms around, hoping that they move too fast for him to grab on each one.The cool night air rushes against my face, but all I can focus on is his unyielding strength. My feet barely touch the ground before he lifts me effortlessly, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of feathers."Put me down, you lunatic!" I beat my fists against his broad back, squirming to break free.He doesn’t even
The scent of blood lingers thick in the air, mixing with the damp earth beneath my boots. The moon barely cuts through the thick canopy of trees, casting long shadows over the fallen bodies. Their lifeless forms lie sprawled across the ground, the fight drained from them. It was over fast—too fast. Three rogues, dead before they even had a chance to scream. It’s not satisfying. It’s just... work.Ethan nudges one of the corpses with his boot, his expression bored. "Well, that was disappointing," he mutters, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was hoping they’d at least put up a decent fight. Maybe throw a punch or two. But no, they just flopped over like dead fish. Pathetic."I wipe the blood off my blade, watching as the crimson soaks into the dirt. The forest is quiet now, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. "They weren’t fighters," I say, my voice even. "Just scouts. Testing the borders. Seeing how far they could push before we pushed back."Ethan scoffs, stepping
The market square is bustling, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and ripe fruit. I weave through the crowd, my basket swinging at my side, when I see him. Darius. My heart skips a beat, then plummets. He’s standing by the fountain, his dark hair catching the sunlight, his posture relaxed and confident. But it’s not just him. There’s a girl beside him, her laughter ringing out like a bell, too loud, too close. She’s beautiful, with black curls and a smile that seems to stretch too wide. They’re leaning in, heads almost touching, and my chest tightens.I shouldn’t care. We’re not officially mated yet, but we’re fated. He’s mine, and I’m his. So why does it feel like a knife is twisting in my gut?His head snaps up, as if he senses me watching. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world narrows to just him. His lips curl into that familiar smirk, the one that makes my stomach flutter even when I know it shouldn’t. He raises a hand, beckoning me over. My feet move before
The dining hall hums with the clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversation. The long wooden table is overflowing with roasted meats, steaming vegetables, and goblets of deep red wine that glisten under the flickering chandelier light. The air smells of rosemary and thyme, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the silverware. I move quietly around the table, refilling glasses and serving plates, trying to stay invisible. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over the years—being unseen, unheard. But tonight, my hands tremble, my thoughts a chaotic mess.At the head of the table, Alpha Rowan, my uncle, commands attention effortlessly. His hard golden eyes sweep over the council members as he discusses pack resources, his deep voice cutting through the room like a blade. He’s dressed in his usual dark tunic, the fabric tailored to perfection, the golden crest of Moonhaven embroidered on his chest. He looks every bit the Alpha, every bit the man who holds my fate in his hands.
I sift through the files in my father’s royal study, the scent of aged parchment and oak filling the air. The fireplace crackles in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the dark walls lined with books of law, history, and the many conquests of Golden Crest. My father’s meticulous handwriting marks the margins of various documents, but one file catches my eye—a thick, yellowed folder labeled 'Moonhaven Case'.I pull it out and flip through the contents, my brow furrowing with every page. Moonhaven. The wolf pack that somehow broke out of Golden Crest’s authority. A lawless land, untouched by the kingdom's rule. And yet, here it is—a case file, an unresolved issue, one that should have been dealt with ten years ago.I clench my jaw. How the hell did my father let this slide?I slam the folder shut and lean back in the chair, my fingers drumming against the polished wood of his desk. This is unacceptable. A pack operating outside of our rule is a direct threat to our sove
The kitchen is hot, steam rising from the pots on the stove and clinging to my skin like a second layer. My arms ache from carrying the pail of milk, the weight of it pulling at my shoulders. I’m not built for this—not like them. My human body is weak compared to theirs, and the cook never lets me forget it.“Hurry up, girl!” she snaps, her voice sharp as a whip. “You’re slower than a snail in winter. What’s taking you so long?”I bite my tongue, forcing myself not to respond. She’s been scolding me all morning, even though I’ve been on my feet since dawn, scrubbing floors, peeling vegetables, and hauling supplies. Nothing I do is ever enough for her. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, setting the pail down with a thud. My hands are trembling, and I can feel the blisters forming on my palms. “I’ll try to be faster.”“Try?” she scoffs, her hands on her hips. “You should be doing, not trying. Useless, that’s what you are. A human in a wolf’s world. What good are you?”I flinch at her words, but
Theo’s room smells like him—like rain and something faintly metallic, like the edge of a storm. I’m on my knees, scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the wooden floor, my hands raw and stinging from the soap. The pack house is never clean enough for them, and neither am I. But Theo’s room is different. It’s quieter here, softer. The walls are lined with books, and the bed is always unmade, like he’s just rolled out of it. I don’t mind cleaning this space. It feels like the closest I’ll ever get to being part of something.The door creaks open, and I freeze. He’s here. I don’t look up, not right away. I keep scrubbing, even though my hands are trembling. I can feel his eyes on me, heavy and unreadable. “You don’t always have to do that,” Theo says, his voice low and steady. I finally glance up, and there he is, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. He’s wearing a dark sweater that makes his hair look even lighter, almost golden in the dim light. He sends me a small smi
The grand hall of the estate is eerily silent, save for the steady click of my father’s polished shoes against the marble floor. He stands in front of me, arms crossed, exuding the usual 'I-am-your-father-and-you-will-listen-to-me' energy. My mother is beside him, a perfectly composed ice sculpture in a designer dress, her sharp grey eyes—our sharp grey eyes—assessing me with the usual judgment."You're in charge while we're gone," my father announces, his voice firm and unyielding, as if he hasn’t already said this a hundred times.I don’t respond immediately, my hands shoved into the pockets of my tailored jacket. Instead, I glance out the tall windows, where the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the estate grounds. The weight of his words settles over me, heavy and familiar. "I’m aware," I finally say, my tone low and measured.He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my lack of enthusiasm. "This isn’t a joke, Caspian. The rogues are becoming bolder. They’re not
(Before Goldencrest)The scent of pine and damp stone lingers in the air as I scrub the floors of the waiting area in the packhouse, the soapy water cool against my raw, reddened palms. The bristles of the brush scrape against the wooden planks, the repetitive motion soothing in a way that almost lets me forget where I am—what I am.Almost.Boots clunk against the floor, tracking dirt and grime over the freshly scrubbed surface. No one spares me a glance, no one acknowledges the work I do. It’s expected of me, the human among wolves, the weakest link in a pack that prides itself on strength. Even if my mother was once Alpha. Even if my uncle is now the reigning one. None of that matters. I’m nothing but an obligation, a stain they haven’t yet scrubbed away.A shadow falls over me, and before I can look up, the metal bucket beside me clatters to the ground. Water spills across the floor, soaking into my pants, drenching the small space I just finished cleaning."Oops," a voice draw
The music swells around us, soft yet powerful, the perfect melody for a moment like this. My hand rests in Caspian's, and my other rests lightly on his shoulder as we glide across the ballroom floor. The golden chandeliers overhead bathe us in warm light, making everything shimmer—my silver gown, the golden embroidery on Caspian’s regal suit, the crown atop his head, and the one newly placed upon mine.The ceremony was breathtaking, a moment forever etched in my soul. I was not just Caspian’s mate now—I was his queen, standing beside him in every sense of the word. And now, at the reception, with laughter and celebration all around us, I finally allow myself to breathe, to feel the joy that tonight has brought.Caspian pulls me closer, his breath teasing my ear as he murmurs, “I have half a mind to steal you away from all these people.”I smile, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. “And risk the wrath of Cassidy? She’s spent a week planning this. I don’t think even you, King of Gol