This new life with the Pack has shaken me down to my core, unraveling my sense of self in ways I hadn’t expected. It started with the Mating Ceremony, where Zephry claimed me in front of everyone, binding me to this Pack and dragging me to his mansion—a place that feels more like a gilded cage than a home. Billie was the first glimmer of kindness I encountered since becoming Luna. *Luna.* The title feels strange on my tongue, like it doesn’t belong to me. I’ve never been one to wear authority so publicly, yet now everyone calls me this grand title as if it changes who I am, as if I could ever forget my place as an Omega.Then there was the Ball, an event I’d been told was meant to be a celebration, a chance to learn about Zephry and my new life. But any fantasy I might have held about it quickly crumbled. Instead of bonding or joy, I found myself alone with Zephry in the mansion while the Pack reveled without me. I hadn’t spoken a word to him since. When he reached for me earlier, I d
I barely escaped Zephry’s wrath for being a minute late, though a twinge of relief hit me when he let my lateness slide. But more surprising than his patience was his unexpected approval of the outfit Billie left for me—a dress more daring than anything I’d usually wear. It felt like a new chapter in Zephry’s book, one where he seemed more like an ally than a tyrant, though I knew better than to trust appearances.As I came downstairs, dressed in the deep crimson gown that hugged my figure in places I wasn’t sure he’d even allow, his gaze latched onto me. The car ride that followed was thick with tension. Every time I glanced out the window, I could feel his eyes sweeping over me, lingering on the exposed expanse of my back, revealed by the dress's plunging cut. The fabric felt whisper-thin under his gaze, and I was all too aware of the bare skin he could see. His eyes roamed with an intensity that made me feel both vulnerable and oddly defiant, as if I were somehow challenging him by
"My name is Hogan Matelli," one man across from the lead speaker declared, his voice solid, carrying authority as he stood with an air of self-assurance. "I represent The Red Forest Pack." He gave a respectful nod toward the table, then took his seat. Following him, another man introduced himself. His tone was rough, edged with a low growl. "I am Isan Scanfordie, of The Southern Sun Pack." He dipped his head slightly, his eyes scanning the room with sharp intensity before sitting down. One of the elders rose, his posture dignified as he placed both hands on the table. "Naval Porty, representing The Canadian Wolf Pack." His voice was laced with wisdom and caution. When he took his seat, his gaze moved deliberately to the next man, a tall figure with colorful, streaked hair and eyes that seemed almost unnaturally bright. I felt a jolt of recognition. "Rosco?" I whispered, barely audible, my eyes locked onto him. He looked different, more authoritative—an Alpha, unmistakably. Rosc
**Two Weeks Later**The days had melted into a routine of secluded study, a blur of pages and ink-stained fingers as I holed myself up in my room, absorbing everything I could about the Raven Pack. Their ancient alliances, tactics, and deep-seated feuds unraveled in the countless books I’d managed to sneak from the library below. My bed and floors were blanketed in opened tomes and scrolls, covers frayed and dog-eared, pages fluttering under the lazy ceiling fan.One text had particularly captured my attention—*Tempus Mateo Transire.* Its fragile, gold-embossed cover hinted at secrets, the kind woven with the weight of age-old loyalties and betrayals. It chronicled the Kancary Clan and its tangled history, yet not a single word mentioned the Raven Pack. Zephry had insisted this Pack had been part of the clan for generations, but so far, I’d only found accounts of rival packs and even my former Pack back home. Every paragraph I read hinted at lost stories, shadowy truths obscured by ti
It was dusk by the time Billie and I strolled through the heart of the Pack, the sky softening from burnt orange into shades of violet, casting long shadows over quaint homes and cozy yards. The place had a warmth to it that reminded me of the pack I’d once called home—of simpler, kinder days. My new title, *Luna*, still felt unfamiliar, almost surreal. Every time someone stepped out from their house to wave or offer a warm greeting, I tried to adjust to the sense of belonging. It was as if each gesture, each smile, was a gentle tug on something fragile within me, easing the ache that I hadn’t known was so strong. A couple with a tiny pup caught my eye—a baby, no more than a few weeks old. I couldn't help but stop, transfixed. The little one had that fresh innocence that made my chest ache. "Look at you," I murmured to myself, imagining for a brief moment what it might feel like to cradle something so pure, so new. Just then, Billie nudged me, grinning mischievously. "I bet you'll b
"I'm sorry, I just wanted a little time to myself for once," I said, my voice lifting slightly before I quickly bit the inside of my cheek, regretting my tone. I glanced up at Zephry, catching the storm that darkened his gaze. As I leaned back in my seat, my eyes dropped, avoiding the intensity of his stare."Look at me," Zephry commanded, his voice cool and unwavering. I kept my gaze down, defying his demand with a defiant twist in my chest. "Thalia. Look at me. Now." His tone sharpened, leaving no room for escape. I could sense that this confrontation was inevitable—a reckoning I'd felt creeping ever since the day I dared to go against him. Reluctantly, my eyes drifted up to meet his, catching the way his free hand clenched into a tight fist against the table, knuckles white. "Who is it you listen to in this house?" His words were low, each one vibrating through me, a warning rumbling beneath."You, Alpha," I replied, my voice quiet yet steady, gaining a slight edge of courage as I
The familiar roads stretched out before me, winding between shrubs heavy with rain and memories I thought I had buried. Each step brought the scent of damp earth and pine—an aroma I had longed for, even in my dreams. The homes, small and quaint, stood like sentinels of a past I couldn’t quite escape, their weathered facades whispering of old wounds and fonder times. And then there were the people—faces I once knew so well, now blurred by time and distance. They walked with laughter on their lips, umbrellas forgotten as they pulled their coats tighter against the relentless downpour. I watched from my hiding spot, my hood pulled low, feeling like a ghost among the living. There he was—the Beta who had tormented me endlessly in my youth. Even in the rain, his posture was sharp, his gait as confident as ever. My chest tightened as I remembered his sneer at the Mating Ceremony, the disbelief in his eyes when my mate turned out to be an Alpha from another pack. A cruel twist of fate, or
The rain poured harder with every step I took deeper into the forest. The steady rhythm of water striking leaves and pooling in the soil created a natural symphony, a melody both soothing and unsettling. My clothes clung to my skin, heavy with the downpour, and I abandoned my hood, letting the rain saturate my hair and stream down my face. The sensation was a mixture of freedom and surrender, the cool droplets a stark contrast to the warmth of my flushed cheeks. I had always loved the rain—its soothing cadence on long, quiet nights—but tonight, it felt different. As if it carried the weight of my guilt, distorting the world around me.Each step forward seemed to stretch the path infinitely, making me question if the forest had always been this vast or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Crickets chirped and insects buzzed in the underbrush, their tiny voices muffled by the storm. The earthy smell of rain-soaked moss and bark filled my lungs, grounding me, yet I couldn’t shake the fee
EienaThe Next MorningZephry couldn’t be serious, could he? How could he say Reid was a bad person if he’d never even met him? It was infuriating—the way he always decided for me, always assumed he knew what was best without ever stopping to ask what I wanted. Not once had he asked if I wanted to be dragged into this world of titles, power, and endless expectations. A world where an Omega like me didn’t belong.The weight of it all crushed me as I sat on the edge of my bed, my fingers tangled in the soft fabric of my blanket. Zephry’s words from the night before still echoed in my head, relentless and sharp. He’d said something... different. Something that had rattled me in a way I couldn’t quite define. No one—not even Oakley—had ever spoken to me like that. It was... unsettling.I wanted to stay in my room, hidden away from Zephry, Billie, and everyone else in this sprawling mansion. The thought of facing them was unbearable. I’d already told the handful of people who knocked on my
"You don't think I know that?" Zephry's voice was low, the kind of rumble that carried a storm brewing behind it."She still doesn’t know, does she?" Billie’s voice was gentle but edged with concern.Zephry exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. "She won’t believe me even if I tell her. I’ve been horrible to her for so long."Billie hesitated. "When she’s ready, she’ll come to you. She just needs time.""No." His hand flattened against the door, the wood cold beneath his palm. "We need time." He leaned his forehead against the door, his eyes closing. The faint, muffled sound of Thalia’s quiet sobs on the other side was like a dagger twisting in his chest. His wolf stirred uneasily, a restless growl simmering beneath the surface. "I wish I could reverse time," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the still air. "I wish I could take it all back... undo every moment I hurt you, Thalia. I’m so—so sorry. Please, forgive me when you’re ready."The silence stretched,
Zephry The vase shattered against the far wall with a deafening crash, shards scattering like sharp stars across the floor. My roar filled the room, raw and guttural, reverberating off the cold stone walls. My fists dug into my scalp, pulling my hair so hard it felt like my skull might crack. Heat seared my face, anger curling through me like an inferno, and I clenched my eyes shut, trying to will it away.Footsteps echoed behind me, soft but deliberate. My nostrils flared as I inhaled sharply—no trace of her scent. It wasn’t Thalia.“Zephry, calm down,” Billie said, her voice steady yet laced with caution. Her words were a gentle tether, but I shook them off, slamming my fist into the wall. The cold stone didn’t budge, but my knuckles throbbed, and blood smeared the surface. A dull ache pulsed through my hand, grounding me just enough to keep my wolf at bay.“I just wanted to tell her she can’t be alone without me,” I growled, my voice low and guttural. My vision blurred, the edges o
ChapterZephryThe moment the door slammed behind her, an eerie silence settled over the house, broken onlyby the jagged rhythm of my breathing. My chest heaved as the weight of what I had donecrashed down on me like a collapsing mountain. The room smelled faintly of pine andearth—her scent—but it was fading fast, dissipating into the cool night air.What the hell am I doing? My fists clenched so tightly my knuckles cracked, the sharp soundechoing in the empty room. Why did I say that? The words had flown out like arrows, each onetipped with venom I hadn’t intended. I scared her off. I drove her away.You’re an idiot, Zephry.I slammed a fist against the nearest wall, the impact reverberating up my arm. My breathsturned into shallow gasps, each one edged with panic. She was out there. Alone. Vulnerable.And Nixon—damn him—was still lurking in the shadows. He’d been hunting her for weeks,maybe longer, and I’d just made it easier for him.I paced the room, my boots thudding heavil
ThaliaThe minutes stretched, blending into a quiet eternity as I sat in the stillness of the living room. The low hum of tension wrapped around me, until finally, the distant creak of the meeting room door echoed. Quick footsteps, firm and deliberate, retreated toward the front door. Agreement had been reached—on what, I had no idea. My thoughts swirled with questions: what had Zephry said to sway them? Or had he failed to convince them at all?Soft footsteps approached, stirring me from my musings. I glanced up to find Rosco standing before me, his mismatched eyes warm and glinting with familiarity. His gentle smile softened the sharp edges of my thoughts."Let me guess," I asked, quirking a brow, "Zephry screamed at everyone until they gave in?"Rosco chuckled, the sound low and soothing as he shook his head. "Not quite. He did try to convince them you were wrong, though." His hand raked through his hair, tousling the dark strands further. "But after hearing you speak as Luna, the
Nixon Blood. Thick, metallic, and warm, it dripped sluggishly from the deep gash on Mi'chi’s hand, pooling on the stone floor beneath him. The stale air in the dimly lit basement carried the coppery tang, mingling with the sharp stench of sweat and despair. Every breath Mi'chi took was a struggle, his chest rising and falling like a bellows as he wrestled against the pain. His wrist jerked involuntarily as Nixon's finger pressed mercilessly into the raw, ragged wound where Mi'chi’s pinky used to be. The Alpha’s movements were slow, deliberate, his face a mask of chilling detachment. Mi'chi’s scream split the silence, guttural and sharp, reverberating off the cold concrete walls. “You scream well,” Nixon said, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth. “The sooner you cooperate, the sooner your agony ends.” His golden eyes glimmered in the faint light, unblinking, predatory. Mi'chi spat, the glob landing near Nixon’s boots. “I’d rather die than betray my clan or the Luna,” he rasped, hi
Thalia The tension in the boardroom was suffocating, a thick, unyielding presence that pressed against my chest like a vice. Zephry sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his presence dominating the room as his golden eyes blazed with barely restrained fury. I felt the weight of his gaze on me, lingering far too long for comfort, stripping away any illusion of power I might have had in this space. The outfit he had forced me to wear—a fitted black dress that clung uncomfortably to my skin—left me feeling exposed, every glance from the Alphas around the table like a dagger slicing through my resolve. I sat rigid, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, trying to ignore the whispers and stray looks. This wasn’t the first time Zephry had paraded me like some kind of prize. Rosco’s quiet smile from across the table was the only kindness I could grasp onto. It was fleeting, but it steadied me, grounding me in this hostile space. Rosco had been a rare ally in this mess, a beacon of decen
The heavy wooden door of the mansion creaked open, and as I stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. Whispers ceased, and all heads turned toward me. My boots echoed on the marble floor, a deliberate reminder of my authority. A figure approached, bowing deeply as I entered the grand foyer."You've finally returned, Alpha," the man greeted, his voice reverent but tinged with unease. His posture was stiff as he glanced upward, his smile tight. "I assume you’ve tracked the Luna?"I let out a short, humorless laugh, my lips curving into a smirk. "You ask me as if I would fail." My voice carried a sharp edge, a warning to anyone who dared doubt me. "She won’t see it coming when things escalate. The clock is ticking, and soon, Thalia will have no place to run."The man nodded quickly, relief flickering across his features as he avoided my piercing gaze. "Alpha, there's a... guest waiting for you. In the basement."I arched a brow, feigning curiosity, though I already suspected what awaited m
ThaliaZephry’s gaze locked onto mine, unwavering, sharp, and intense. It made my stomach churn uneasily, but thankfully, Billie was there. If Zephry had any intentions that spelled trouble, I was confident Billie would intervene. Still, my muscles tensed under his stare. I dared a quick smile in Billie’s direction, relieved to see her returning it as she rounded Zephry and made her way toward me.Even as Billie approached, I couldn’t peel my eyes away from Zephry. The usual guarded layers of his clothing were stripped away, replaced by a simple tank top that left little to the imagination. His long, muscled arms, hairless and faintly glowing in the light, looked like they belonged to a sculpted statue. A faint webbing of veins curved along his forearms, each one a testament to his strength. Despite the intimidating display, a sprinkling of freckles—like those scattered across his face—softened the harshness of his form, creating a maddening contradiction of beauty and power.“Morning