“Such good taste you have, my Prince,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm as we pull up to the motel. The building is dull and unimpressive, the word *Motel* spelled out in flickering neon letters on a sign. The *O* is burned out, leaving the sign to read *M tel*. A few rundown cars are scattered across the lot, and a handful of humans loiter around, their voices carrying through the night air. Our car, a sleek black Audi, is by far the fanciest thing here, and it doesn’t take long for us to draw attention.As we step out of the car, the smell of cigarettes and beer hits me like a wall. It’s a familiar scent, one that reminds me of Rowan on late Friday nights back when I was a kid. He quit smoking years ago, but the drinking never stopped. The memory makes my stomach twist.“We need to stay low,” Caspian mutters, his voice low as he scans the area. “The last thing we want is all the packs being alerted of my presence outside Goldencrest. Your uncle would be expecting us if that
The quiet hum of the vending machine fills the empty motel lobby, broken only by the soft clatter of a soda can rolling into the dispenser. I reach down, pulling out the can of cola, then press the button again for another. A second can drops with a metallic thud.Behind me, I can hear Caspian’s low voice as he talks on the phone a little distance away, his tone clipped and businesslike. Probably speaking to one of his men. I glance at him briefly—his broad frame leaning against the wall, grey eyes sharp and focused. Even in this run-down motel, dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, he still looks like he belongs in a mansion.I shake my head and move to the next vending machine. Chips. That’s what I need. My fingers hover over the selection buttons, but something catches my eye. A mirror.There wasn’t one in our room last night, so I pause, giving myself a once-over. My blonde hair has grown longer than I realized, falling in soft waves down past my waist line and resting a
The trees blur past us as we drive down the winding road to Moonhaven, their green leaves a streaky haze against the bright blue sky. The air conditioning hums softly in the car, circulating Caspian’s spicy, rosy scent, which somehow manages to be both comforting and unnerving at the same time. My eyes flicker to the vague figures I catch in the woods as we speed by—wolves, probably, patrolling the borders. My stomach twists at the thought. This place was my home for twenty-one years. But it was also the place where I was abused, where my mate rejected me, and where my parents were killed. And now, I’m back, walking straight into the lion’s den.I glance at Caspian, his sharp profile focused on the road. His grey eyes are narrowed, his jaw set in that familiar, determined way. He’s calm, collected, but I can feel the tension radiating off him. He knows what we’re walking into. He knows the risks. And yet, here we are.The car slows as we divert from the highway onto a dirt road t
"It's against the rules. Only wolves are allowed into the Alpha's office."Rowan's voice is sharp, laced with authority he doesn’t deserve as he stands blocking the way to his office.I almost forgot about this daft rule. No humans allowed. Pathetic.I know why this rule exists. It’s not for tradition or security—it’s a law he made out of pure spite. A punishment. A way to erase my mother’s legacy and remind everyone that I, her daughter, don’t belong.Over the years, the rule twisted into something more sinister. A superstition. A belief that if a human steps into the Alpha’s office, it’s a bad omen. A curse.Wolves can be dumb too, you see proof."But I’m not a wolf, am I?" Caspian counters smoothly. "I'm a Lycan. And does that mean you would deny your Prince the dignity of having a decent conversation in your office?"His voice is calm, but there's steel beneath it. A challenge.Rowan’s lip curls. "Lycans and wolves share the same ancestry, I believe?" he muses. "Leave the girl ou
"Why did you say that?" I ask as we walk back to the car.The path is uneven, pebbles crunching under my shoes. The air is thick with tension, but I’m not sure if it’s coming from me or from him. My heart still hammers from what just happened back there. From hearing Rowan speak about me like I’m a stain on his pack. From Caspian standing up for me like it was the easiest thing in the world."Say what?" His voice is deep, casual, as if he doesn’t already know."That we're mated.""Aren't we?" He casts a glance down at me, his face unreadable, his tone final. Like he’s already done with this conversation before it even starts."No we're not. You'll be mated to Eden. Your parents have decided it," I want to say, but the look in his eyes tells me he's not ready for smart replies.I look away, pressing my lips together. I don’t know what I expected him to say. I don’t even know why I asked.We reach the car in silence. People pass by, throwing me glares, but they don't last long. The mo
I walk through the streets of Moonhaven with my head held high, despite the weight of the aggressive stares pressing against me like knives.It’s almost laughable.They glare at me like I’m filth—like my presence here is an abomination.But then they look past me, and their expressions twist. Their gazes drop. They bow.Not to me though, but to Caspian who walks slower behind me.And just like that, their hostility shrivels into submission.They think I belong to him. They believe that I'll be their queen. The irony nearly makes me laugh, but I swallow the amusement.It wasn’t long ago that these same people made it their mission to tear me down, to remind me, over and over again, that I wasn’t enough. That I was weak. That I would never belong.But now?Now, they step out of my way.Now, they lower their heads.Now, they fear me...more like the idea of something I'm very far from, but who's going to tell them it's all a make believe?Definitely not me.Caspian finally stops as soon a
The exhilaration of power courses through me as I walk through the pack, my head held high and my steps steady. I'm still on a high after my brief encounter with Darius.The idiot.Now that I've seen him again, I'm thankful he rejected me. He could never have given me this feeling that Caspian is giving me. Even with a mere lie from his mouth and I'm suddenly elevated. Darius is nothing compared to any of the men I've met in Goldencrest. He suddenly seems...crude.The way the pack members look at me now—with a mix of fear and curiosity—is something I’ve never experienced before. It’s intoxicating, this feeling of superiority, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I belong. Like I’m not just the human they used to kick around. I’m someone now. Someone they can’t touch.I make my way through the open market, the stalls bustling with activity. The scent of fresh produce and baked goods fills the air, but I’m not here to shop. I’m here to further test my authority.Give me a
I pace the hotel room, my mind racing. Caspian isn’t here. After he dropped me off in the afternoon, he got a call to meet with the enforcers Goldencrest sent to a pack just north of Moonhaven. He won’t be back until late tomorrow, and the weight of what I overheard between Rowan and Theo presses heavily on my chest. I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to do something. I need to take matters into my hands or these criminals would be going scott free.Rowan won’t try to poison me like my mother—Theo made that clear. But if he’s working with the rogues, as he said, he’ll send one after me when he thinks I’m vulnerable. That’s my opening. That’s how I’ll get the proof I need.Before Caspian left, he handed me one of his phones and some cash, telling me to stay put and call him if anything happens. But I can’t just sit here. I have a plan. I’ll head back to Moonhaven on my own in the evening, making myself an easy target. I’ll record everything. If Rowan sends someone after me, I
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