No wonder I've been feeling more at ease lately. Despite the many issues she had to deal with, Emory felt a sense of relief as she absently rubbed her neck. So, I haven't been wearing Myles' necklace for the last few days.Emory wouldn't have noticed if Myles hadn't pointed it out. With so many pressing concerns, something as trivial as a necklace hadn't managed to get her attention. Besides, she didn't even like necklaces. The loss of Myles' necklace had not caused her any distress.On the contrary, its absence had become a hidden blessing for Emory. She was grateful. Without Myles' necklace around her neck, she felt freer. Her breathing came easier, her chest felt lighter and there was no lingering unease within her.Still, Emory wasn't going to ignore the subject of Myles' missing necklace. Not because she felt any emotional attachment to it, but because she wanted to avoid being bombarded with Myles' incessant questions. She was sure he wouldn't stop asking until the necklace was
Jaxon's heart seemed to stop when his phone rang that night. An incoming call from a new number appeared. A smile immediately formed on his lips. He guessed it had to be Emory."Hold on a second, Damian," Jaxon said as he reached for the phone on his desk. The latest report on the state of the wheat fields after the fire was no longer his concern. "I've got an important call."Damian gave a brief nod but remained where he was, silent. He said nothing, just watched Jaxon's behaviour, which made his unease grow.A possibility had recently disturbed Damian's peace of mind. His thoughts were restless, all stemming from the fire in the wheat fields. The Gardeno Pack had suffered considerable losses as a result of the incident, yet Jaxon had taken no further action.Damian had repeatedly brought up the subject of the fire, hoping that Jaxon would order him to prepare a plan of retaliation. But no such orders ever came. Instead, Jaxon showed no inclination to seek revenge. He often avoided d
Lacey thought something serious was going on. Emory's voice had sounded shaky when she had called earlier, betraying an uncontrollable panic. So, Lacey hurried. She rushed to Emory's office and received an unexpected order."We're going to the Lustre Lounge, Lacey."Lacey's brow furrowed slightly. She was confused but remained alert as she followed Emory who had already left the office. A few minutes later they left the palace.Confusion continued to swirl in Lacey's mind as they drove. She hadn't expected Emory to contact her so late at night just to go to the Lustre Lounge. Tomorrow was still a working day and, as far as she could remember, Emory's last visit to the place had left an unpleasant impression.Lacey still didn't know what had happened to Emory that night. She had been careful not to ask, respecting Emory's warning. But Emory's behaviour now only deepened her curiosity."I know you must be wondering about my behaviour."Emory's voice came out of nowhere, causing Lacey to
The heat burned Emory's face. Her cheeks flushed, powerless as embarrassment struck her like a bolt of lightning. She had never expected Jaxon to instruct Damian to greet her arrival.There was nothing wrong with Damian's behaviour—nothing at all. He truly respected Emory, and that was the problem.Emory couldn't think of any other reason for Damian's respectful attitude towards her. There was only one possible explanation: Jaxon must have told Damian something.Damn you, Jaxon. Emory cursed inwardly as the lift began to move. What exactly did you tell Damian that I don't see a trace of hostility in his eyes? On the contrary, he's being overly polite to me.For two werewolves from different packs who had been enemies for over twenty years, Damian's behaviour was completely unexpected. It left Emory with a flood of questions swirling in her head. It wasn't just the fact that she was being greeted, it was also Damian's extraordinary display of respect and courtesy towards her.Emory's c
As long as she had lived, Emory had never truly felt the world turning, but she felt it with Jaxon.It wasn't the first time. Emory had experienced it once before, on the night of the wheat field fire. At the time, she had convinced herself that the overwhelming sensations of pleasure and happiness that burst into her chest were related to the exhaustion she had been carrying all day. She'd felt so utterly drained that their intimacy seemed to awaken something far beyond mere physical relief.But Emory's assumption was wrong, for tonight, under the silvery glow of the moon, the same sensation returned—only fiercer, more consuming than ever. She realised it wasn't that simple. It wasn't just exhaustion driving her; it was something much deeper, more urgent. Her body wasn't acting on instinct alone, it was driven by a desire fed by the strange bond between them.Emory couldn't dismiss it as a mere rush of hormones. She was certain that no amount of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine or eve
One quality an Alpha must never possess is doubt. An Alpha is expected to act with thorough thought and careful consideration. To set aside all incriminating possibilities and make wise decisions.This was what Jaxon had always believed. He avoided anything that might cause hesitation. Risks were never something he toyed with, let alone ignored.But here Jaxon was, doing just that. He didn't just ignore risks; he played with them. His commitment to always putting the interests of the pack first was momentarily set aside. His focus and thoughts were consumed by one thing—Emory.Jaxon despised himself for it. He, who had always relied on logic and moved forward based on rational observations, now found himself trapped in an emotional storm he had never imagined. It felt like being on a battlefield without a plan. His position was weak, his safety threatened, but instead of taking action, he allowed himself to sink further under Emory's spell.It was fair to say that Emory's presence had
Damian had hoped that Jaxon's mood would improve after seeing Emory. His expectations weren't high—he simply wanted the meeting to rekindle Jaxon's focus, which had wavered over the past few days. Jaxon couldn't neglect the company or the pack for too long.Unfortunately, Damian's unease only deepened when Jaxon emerged from the suite. Jaxon's face was taut, radiating restrained frustration. Damian noted the absence of any trace of happiness in Jaxon's demeanour, a stark contrast to what he had expected from a man who had just spent a passionate night with his beloved. Instead, Jaxon looked more like someone who had just had a row with his mate.Damian's mind raced with questions as they travelled back to the estate. He debated whether to speak to Jaxon directly, but the growing anger on Jaxon's face convinced him otherwise. It was clear that Jaxon's temper was escalating with each passing moment.Out of an abundance of caution, Damian decided to remain silent. He refrained from speak
There was something different about Emory. That was what Myles thought as she arrived at the palace that morning. His instincts kicked in the moment he saw her enter the palace, moving cautiously. Deciding to act on his suspicions, he decided to follow her closely, watching her every move.Myles slipped quietly into Emory's room and hid behind a wall. He reminded himself not to make a sound as he began to study her intently.The first thing Myles noticed was that Emory seemed to be in a hurry. He had never seen her in such a hurry before, which caused Denise to assist her with remarkable speed.Moments passed and Myles quickly backed away—almost running—when he heard Emory talking to Denise."Okay, that should do it. Thank you, Denise. I have to hurry. I've got an important meeting this morning."Myles left Emory's room and ran to the end of the corridor to hide. His breath came in short gasps and his heart was pounding. Beads of anxious sweat had already formed on his forehead.Oh, G
The room was small and stifling, its stone walls cold to the touch despite the lack of vents. It had a damp smell mixed with the metallic tang of iron—the distinct odour of a place rarely touched by sunlight. The only source of light came from an old lantern hanging in the corner, just enough to cast shadows across the room, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.In the middle of the room was a bare wooden cot, resting on the rough stone floor. This was where the Omega had been secured. Her body lay motionless, her hands and feet bound with heavy silver chains, rendering her completely powerless, unable to move at all.Hours had passed since the Omega had regained consciousness, yet she had shown no significant reaction. She just stared blankly at the ceiling, barely blinking, as if trapped in a void deeper than mere resignation.The Omega looked weak—much weaker than she should have been. Her breathing was uneven and cold sweat was constantly trickling down her temples. Every now and t
Trina couldn't shake the confusion and unease that had suddenly crept into her mind the moment Orlando arrived at Montclair Manor. She felt a strange tension, like an unpleasant surprise that appeared without warning. A storm of wild possibilities swirled in her mind, planting seeds of worry. What brings Orlando here? Has something happened at the palace?Trina's eyes widened. Could it have something to do with Myles? Oh, God. Don't tell me he's caused trouble again. The possibility seemed so plausible that she couldn't help but curse under her breath. If it is, I swear I'll be furious with you, Myles. You're always stirring up trouble."Beta Orlando," Trina greeted calmly, taking a deep breath to keep her composure. "What brings you here?"Orlando stood tall in front of her, his posture firm. He held an ivory envelope sealed with the red emblem of the Zyranos Pack. "I am here on the orders of Luna Queen Emory," Orlando said, his gaze cold and unflinching, as if to emphasise that his
Emory couldn't contain herself as the shock hit her, enveloping her in an indescribable wave of disbelief. She jerked in her seat, her eyes widening as she stared at Fernanda in utter disbelief.The world seemed to spin around her, creating an illusion that made Emory think she had misheard. It felt impossible, but the seriousness etched into Fernanda's face told her otherwise.Emory was shaken. Her heartbeat raced, echoing loudly in her ears as her mind struggled to process what she had just heard. Unfortunately, the harder she tried, the more it all seemed like an endless maze."This is impossible," Emory whispered, her voice barely audible to anyone. The unyielding seriousness on Fernanda's face left her utterly powerless. Fernanda's words were like embers, igniting a storm of unease within her. "You can't be serious, Fernanda."Emory shook her head slowly, trying to deny the dark possibility that was now assaulting her mind. Her entire body felt cold, as if fear was creeping in, t
If the earth rotates every day, so does the palace, always turning in endless activity, like a circle that remains unbroken. The routines continue, ensuring that the life of the palace has its own rhythm, like a wheel that keeps turning, bringing with it daily tasks, challenges, and new needs. Morning turns to afternoon, then night, and each shift never diminishes the intensity within.There is never really a break. At best, it manifests itself faintly in the form of schedule changes. These moments create space and opportunity for them to catch their breath, stretch their muscles and relieve their fatigue before regaining the strength to plunge back into the ever-calling currents of responsibility.Such moments are rare and fleeting, but they are enough to provide a balance for those who devote themselves entirely to the life of the Palace. They are like small gaps in the whirlwind—calm, quiet and deeply meaningful—offering a unique sense of solace. In the end, there is no time more p
It was not a good morning for Myles. The success he had anticipated, envisioned throughout the night, vanished like sunlight erasing darkness. The carefully crafted plan he had meticulously prepared had failed."How could my plan fail?" Myles kept asking himself as he paced his room. Confusion was written all over his face. "How is this even possible?"The more Myles thought about it, the more perplexed he became. He was sure that there had been no mistakes in the plan. And yet reality refused to conform to his expectations. In the end, Jaxon's death, which he had so desperately desired, remained a dream. The war he had envisioned would never come to pass.Myles' steps quickened, his movements restless, as if the room were closing in on him. His mind retraced every detail, every step he had carefully calculated. He was utterly convinced that there had been no oversight, no mistake. "Then where did it go wrong?"For some time, Myles had been secretly observing Emory's breakfast habits.
Right now, all Jaxon wanted was to forget everything—his tragic past, old grudges and forbidden love. He thought that this might be the only way to free himself from the chains that had tormented him all this time. Unfortunately, it was impossible to erase everything from his memory just because Jaxon wanted to. On the contrary, the more he tried, the more those memories haunted him. The tragic past that had cost his parents their lives, the grudge that had festered for years, and the forbidden love he wasn't supposed to feel for Emory—it all came together in a storm inside his soul.Jaxon felt as if the universe was toying with him, forcing him to face the things he feared most. Even the whispers in his head began to sound more real, calling to him, challenging him to make a choice—to surrender to fate or to defy it, even if it meant going against the world.The risks were obvious. It wasn't just Emory who had to make a difficult choice, Jaxon did too. Even if he dared to offer Emor
The night felt eternal in its chill. Time seemed frozen, while the wind carried faint whispers, an endless echo of fragmented thoughts swirling in Emory's mind."Will you be my Luna, Emory?"The question pierced them, slipping into an endless loop. It gripped Emory's emotions tightly, creating a turmoil she could not suppress. It wasn't just a string of words; it was a promise, a hope, and a shadow of doom all intertwined in a single breath.Emory was trapped, powerless. All she could do was close her eyes and wish the memory would fade, if only for a moment.Unfortunately, the harder Emory tried to banish the memory, the more Jaxon's presence invaded her mind. Every word, every hope he uttered echoed incessantly, leaving her utterly defenceless."I know this isn't easy for you, but I promise you, Emory. I will protect you and look after you. I won't let anyone from the Gardeno Pack hurt you. I swear it. Now, please."Jaxon's hoarse voice, filled with deep hope, haunted Emory. It felt
01:30 AM, Command Room at Guard Headquarters.The wall clock ticked softly, accompanying the oppressive silence that filled the room. The dim light cast faint shadows along the walls, enveloping the large wooden table, cluttered with maps, documents and fuzzy photographs. The scent of old paper mingled with traces of overheated electronics, mingled with an unseen but palpable tension.Pierce stood at the edge of the table; his hands braced against its cold surface. His jaw was clenched and his sharp gaze seemed to pierce every corner of the room like the blade of a knife. His presence exuded undeniable authority, leaving everyone in the room with a clear message: the margin for error was gone.To the right of the table, Giorgio William Keller—Pierce's appointed head of the Zyranos Pack's investigative unit—sorted through several documents. His demeanour was casual, but it couldn't hide the sharpness of his mind. Known for his impeccable reputation as a strategist and his disdain for s
The rain began to fall as the car drove through the gates of Zyranos Palace. At first it was just a light drizzle, but it only took a few moments for it to turn into a torrent, pouring down in an irregular rhythm.Raindrops hit the car windows; their sound sharp yet like a low whisper that lingered endlessly in Emory's ears. The sound felt distant, so far away, as if muffled behind the thick layers of her chaotic thoughts.The downpour intensified, forcing the windscreen wipers to work harder to maintain a clear view of the road. Unfortunately for Emory, the world beyond the glass looked like a washed-out painting—blurred, formless and as uncertain as what lay ahead. Emory sat in the passenger seat, her hands clutching the edge of her cloak. She hoped the fabric would provide some warmth against the biting cold. But it was all in vain, for the chill she felt came not from the rain or the night air, but from deep within. It clung to her chest like an icy knot, slowly tightening and ma