Kira's POV. Should I go to Damian's car or stay with Julian? I sit frozen in my seat, staring at Damian like he’s grown a second head. How dare he asks me to ride with him after leaving me behind like I was nothing? “I—” I start to speak, but his sharp voice cuts through. “Kira, in the future, you must know that I don't like to repeat myself… Now get out of the car and go to mine,” Damian snaps, his tone cold and commanding. My fingers twitch, and a familiar fear coils in my chest while my body reacts on instinct. I reach for my bag, already shifting to climb out. I don’t want to make Damian angry because I know what happens when Alphas get angry… I remember it clearly. (Flashback) I was eight, hiding behind the kitchen counter when Alpha Gregory stormed into our house. His face was red with rage, while his voice boomed as he yelled at my father. Something about missing goods at the storage unit. My poor father tried to explain, with his hands raised in defense, but Alpha Gr
Kira's POV. The drive to Crimson Crown is long and miserable in Damian's car. My body aches from being crammed in the backseat, wedged between bags and luggage. Every bump in the road feels like a punch to my spine, and by the time we finally pull into the pack’s territory, I’m stiff and sore. But my discomfort is forgotten the moment I see the pack itself. Bright lights illuminate sleek, modern buildings, their glass windows reflecting the moonlight like crystals. Paved roads wind smoothly through the area, with street lamps lining the paths. Houses aren’t just big — they’re luxurious, with large balconies, polished stone exteriors, and well-manicured lawns. Compared to my old pack’s small, outdated structures, Crimson Crown feels like an entirely different world. Wow, this is incredible... I’m still staring out of the glass when Damian clears his throat sharply. “Listen,” he says, his voice low and cold. “I need you to follow some rules while you’re here.” I tear my ga
Kira's POV The maid and I walk across the grounds, and I can't help but silently admire how well-maintained everything is. The stone paths are spotless, and lanterns cast a soft golden glow across the property. Crimson Crown feels less like a pack and more like a kingdom. “You must be exhausted,” the maid says kindly, breaking the silence. “I am,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intended. “My name’s Martha, by the way,” she adds with a warm smile. “I’ll be helping you get settled here.” “Thank you, Martha, I'm Kira.” I say softly, grateful for her kindness. “Well, Kira let’s get you settled,” Martha says with a smile. We stop at a side entrance of the mansion, and Martha leads me inside. I expect dark, cold corridors and cramped rooms — something barely livable — but instead, I’m greeted by a surprisingly warm and inviting space. The hallway is lined with polished wooden floors, and the walls are painted a soft cream color. The air smells faintly of lavender. “This is it,” Ma
Kira's POV. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat. Fear, anxiety, and dread swirling inside me as Alpha Magnus’s cold gaze pins me in place. I don’t know what’s worse — being caught on Julian’s lap or the fact that Damian is standing there, looking furious after warning me to stay away from his brother. “Julian,” Alpha Magnus says, his voice low and sharp, “what are you doing with the new maid Damian brought back with him?” “You should be asking him that,” Julian replies pointing at Damian with his tone dry and clipped. Embarrassment washes over me, and I scramble off Julian’s lap, nearly knocking myself down in the process. “I-It’s not what it looks like, Alpha Magnus,” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. But suddenly Damian steps forward before I can explain further. “Nothing serious dad,” he says with a casual shrug. “Kira was just about to clean my room when she walked in at the wrong time. She saw something she shouldn’t have and bolted.” His e
Kira's POV. The room goes still the moment the head chef asks, “Who made this?” Every head in the kitchen turns — and every finger points at me. My stomach twists as the chef’s sharp eyes lock onto mine. He strides across the room, stopping right in front of me. His presence feels suffocating, like the air itself is pressing down on my chest. “You,” he says, voice low and firm. “Who taught you to make that soup?” I swallow hard, my mind scrambling for words. “I... I just... I love cooking,” I stammer. “I—I taught myself.” The chef stares at me a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, with a curt nod, he turns on his heel. “Take the food out,” he orders the other servants before heading for the door. I stand frozen, my mind racing. Is that it? He didn’t praise it... or insult it. Was the soup good or bad? Suddenly, I start to imagine the worst — the Alpha King sitting at his grand dining table, and taking a spoonful of my soup expecting his usual delicious soup only fo
Kira’s POV. The stench of wet fur, blood, and rotting food clings to me as I step out of the pack hospital. My arms and hands ache and feel sore from scrubbing cages, and I swear I can still feel the weight of the waste buckets I hauled all day. It's been eight hours of cleaning up after sick and injured wolves, and what do I have to show for it? A ruined uniform and the lingering scent of kennel filth that no amount of scrubbing ever seems to remove. I keep my head down as I walk, hoping and praying I can make it back home without running into anyone. But, of course, the Moon Goddess isn’t that kind to omegas like me. “Look what we have here.” I freeze at the sound of that sickly sweet voice I'd recognize even without looking at them. My stomach twists, and I force myself to keep moving, but it’s too late. They’ve seen me. Lena, Tara, and Cassie, once my highschool classmates, now my daily tormentors step in front of me, blocking my path. Their perfectly styled hair an
Kira’s POV "Why do I even put up with those bullies?" I mutter, my body aching with every step back to the pack. Fresh bruises bloom beneath my torn uniform, refusing to heal immediately because of my omega blood, but I grit my teeth and push forward. The Blissleaf is tucked safely in my pocket. The only reason I endured this miserable night from those mutts. By the time I reach the pack’s main square, the streets are quieter, most pack mates having retired for the night. But I know where they’ll be. They’re always there. Lena, Tara, and Cassie lounge on the stone steps outside the café, laughing over drinks, their polished nails glinting in the moonlight. My stomach churns at the sight of them, but I keep my chin high as I walk up to them. Lena notices me first and smirks. “Well, well. Look who’s still breathing.” I say nothing, just pull the small bundle of Blissleaf from my pocket and toss it onto the table between them. The silver leaves glisten under the streetlights
Kira’s POV The next morning comes too soon and my body still aches in places I didn’t even know could hurt, but I force myself out of bed and go to work as usual. The bruises from last night throb under my worn out uniform as I walk, but I don’t dare complain because who can even hear me out or believe anything I say… The pack hospital looms ahead, its cold white walls offering no comfort. I swipe my badge at the entrance and make my way inside, hoping I’ll be left alone today. But I have no such luck. "Kira Everhart!" I stop, turning as Nurse Yvonne strides toward me. Her usual look of disinterest is replaced with annoyance. "You’re on cleaning duty in the west wing today," she says, shoving a cart toward me. "Do it properly this time." The west wing? My brows furrow. That area is barely used except for private patients whom I refer to as the important ones. Before I can ask why since most of the times, Gammas where responsible for cleaning that area, Yvonne is alrea
Kira's POV. The room goes still the moment the head chef asks, “Who made this?” Every head in the kitchen turns — and every finger points at me. My stomach twists as the chef’s sharp eyes lock onto mine. He strides across the room, stopping right in front of me. His presence feels suffocating, like the air itself is pressing down on my chest. “You,” he says, voice low and firm. “Who taught you to make that soup?” I swallow hard, my mind scrambling for words. “I... I just... I love cooking,” I stammer. “I—I taught myself.” The chef stares at me a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, with a curt nod, he turns on his heel. “Take the food out,” he orders the other servants before heading for the door. I stand frozen, my mind racing. Is that it? He didn’t praise it... or insult it. Was the soup good or bad? Suddenly, I start to imagine the worst — the Alpha King sitting at his grand dining table, and taking a spoonful of my soup expecting his usual delicious soup only fo
Kira's POV. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat. Fear, anxiety, and dread swirling inside me as Alpha Magnus’s cold gaze pins me in place. I don’t know what’s worse — being caught on Julian’s lap or the fact that Damian is standing there, looking furious after warning me to stay away from his brother. “Julian,” Alpha Magnus says, his voice low and sharp, “what are you doing with the new maid Damian brought back with him?” “You should be asking him that,” Julian replies pointing at Damian with his tone dry and clipped. Embarrassment washes over me, and I scramble off Julian’s lap, nearly knocking myself down in the process. “I-It’s not what it looks like, Alpha Magnus,” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. But suddenly Damian steps forward before I can explain further. “Nothing serious dad,” he says with a casual shrug. “Kira was just about to clean my room when she walked in at the wrong time. She saw something she shouldn’t have and bolted.” His e
Kira's POV The maid and I walk across the grounds, and I can't help but silently admire how well-maintained everything is. The stone paths are spotless, and lanterns cast a soft golden glow across the property. Crimson Crown feels less like a pack and more like a kingdom. “You must be exhausted,” the maid says kindly, breaking the silence. “I am,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intended. “My name’s Martha, by the way,” she adds with a warm smile. “I’ll be helping you get settled here.” “Thank you, Martha, I'm Kira.” I say softly, grateful for her kindness. “Well, Kira let’s get you settled,” Martha says with a smile. We stop at a side entrance of the mansion, and Martha leads me inside. I expect dark, cold corridors and cramped rooms — something barely livable — but instead, I’m greeted by a surprisingly warm and inviting space. The hallway is lined with polished wooden floors, and the walls are painted a soft cream color. The air smells faintly of lavender. “This is it,” Ma
Kira's POV. The drive to Crimson Crown is long and miserable in Damian's car. My body aches from being crammed in the backseat, wedged between bags and luggage. Every bump in the road feels like a punch to my spine, and by the time we finally pull into the pack’s territory, I’m stiff and sore. But my discomfort is forgotten the moment I see the pack itself. Bright lights illuminate sleek, modern buildings, their glass windows reflecting the moonlight like crystals. Paved roads wind smoothly through the area, with street lamps lining the paths. Houses aren’t just big — they’re luxurious, with large balconies, polished stone exteriors, and well-manicured lawns. Compared to my old pack’s small, outdated structures, Crimson Crown feels like an entirely different world. Wow, this is incredible... I’m still staring out of the glass when Damian clears his throat sharply. “Listen,” he says, his voice low and cold. “I need you to follow some rules while you’re here.” I tear my ga
Kira's POV. Should I go to Damian's car or stay with Julian? I sit frozen in my seat, staring at Damian like he’s grown a second head. How dare he asks me to ride with him after leaving me behind like I was nothing? “I—” I start to speak, but his sharp voice cuts through. “Kira, in the future, you must know that I don't like to repeat myself… Now get out of the car and go to mine,” Damian snaps, his tone cold and commanding. My fingers twitch, and a familiar fear coils in my chest while my body reacts on instinct. I reach for my bag, already shifting to climb out. I don’t want to make Damian angry because I know what happens when Alphas get angry… I remember it clearly. (Flashback) I was eight, hiding behind the kitchen counter when Alpha Gregory stormed into our house. His face was red with rage, while his voice boomed as he yelled at my father. Something about missing goods at the storage unit. My poor father tried to explain, with his hands raised in defense, but Alpha Gr
Kira's POV "I remember those eyes from the dark forest..." My voice trails off as I stare at Julian because now that I've gotten a proper look at him, there's no mistaking it — I've seen those silver eyes before. He's the one who saved me in the forest. The one who silently paid for those dresses when I was nearly accused of stealing. And the same figure I almost caught a glimpse of at the hospital. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. "It was you, wasn't it?" His gaze flicks to me, cold and unreadable. "I already told you — no." The sharpness in his tone should’ve ended the conversation, but I press on because all I want to do is thank the man for helping me out. “You’re lying,” I insist, shifting to face him. “I recognize your eyes. I know it was you.” His expression hardens. “You’re imagining things.” “I’m not,” I argue. “Why won’t you just admit it?” Before he can answer, the car jolts violently as it hits a bump. I yelp as I’m thrown forward —
Julian's POV Should I tell them who I really am? I hesitate, the thought swirling in my head before I shove it aside. Nah. Not worth it. “Just... nobody important. But you can call me Julian.” I reply coolly. I’ve grown used to hiding my title — not out of shame, but because I’m tired of the way people’s eyes flick down to my wheelchair before pretending not to pity me. Let them underestimate me. I prefer it that way. “So are you coming with me or not?” I ask again and Kira’s gaze drifts down to my chair. I can practically see the hesitation written all over her face. I don’t blame her. An injured man offering her a ride isn’t exactly comforting. I sigh and signal one of the guards to help me get into the car. Kira watches as my guards move to help me into the backseat of my SUV. I can feel her uncertainty shifting into something else—not quite trust, but at least enough to reconsider. “Fine,” Kira says softly. Vivienne scowls. “Are you honestly going to trust this nobo
Julian's POV. I can’t stop thinking about Kira even though she is fated to my young brother... The first time I saw her was in that cursed forest. At first, I thought she was just some reckless omega with no sense of danger. She didn’t belong out there — not with rogues lurking in the shadows. I could’ve ignored her, kept going, and left her to fend for herself. But when those rogues moved in, something made me stop and order my guards to help her as she just stood there, frozen and terrified, yet somehow... still holding her ground. That moment stuck with me. Then I saw her again at the hospital. I’d gone to consult with Redmoon’s pack doctors about my condition — not that they told me anything useful. Just more empty promises about potential treatments, none of which seemed to make a difference. I remember sitting in that cold, sterile room, feeling like I was suffocating and the chair had swallowed up the man I used to be. And then I noticed her. Kira, quietly cleaning th
Kira's POV The drive home after meeting with prince Damian and his mother is quiet, but my mind won’t stop racing. Damian’s cold words echo in my head, sharp and full of disgust. 'Don't fool yourself. This isn't some fairytale you get to live a happily ever after.' Those words keeps circling back, clinging to me like a shadow. How could my own mate, fate chose for me couldn’t even hide his disappointment. He didn’t reject me, but he made it painfully clear that I wasn’t wanted. Instead, I’ve been ordered to work as a servant in his palace — as if I’m nothing more than an inconvenience to be managed. I swallow hard, fighting back the tightness in my throat. It’s not like I expected him to welcome me with open arms, but… I didn’t think it would feel this awful. I stare out the window, watching the trees blur past. Suddenly, my thoughts drift back to the hotel suite — not just to Damian’s cruel words, but to that wheelchair. I remember seeing it once before back at the pack