Killain’s POVI walk, following the trail of crimson streaks staining my pristine Italian marble floor, the contrast as sharp as the predator lurking within me. It leads me to her.The little wounded mouse.She lay at my feet, barely clinging to life, her existence as fragile as the fraying threads of the tattered shawl draped over her bony frame.Pathetic.Her hair, wild and unruly, spilled across the floor, and her clothes clung to her like a second skin—worthless, like the life she was struggling to preserve.I don’t waste my time on women. Not a glance, not a second. But this one? This one wasn’t just any woman.She was useful.The Moon Goddess herself had delivered her to me—a broken, insignificant little thing that fit perfectly into my plans. And I, a lion, had found her in my den. How poetic.At first, I mistook her for one of the desperate maids who dared to slip into my chambers, hoping for more than their station allowed. Perhaps I’d been harsher than necessary. If I tore t
I groaned, my body heavy and unresponsive, as if I were waking from a dream that clung to my bones like tar. My fingers twitched, brushing against something impossibly soft—velvet, silk, something luxurious and cold. My brows furrowed as I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim light. Above me, the ceiling stretched high, adorned with intricate carvings of angels. Their stone eyes seemed to follow me, their wings frozen mid-beat, as if they had been caught in a moment of divine judgment.Am I dead?The thought flitted through my mind, but the sharp ache in my body told me otherwise. Dead people don’t feel pain. Dead people don’t feel fear.And then, like a blade slicing through the haze, sunlight poured into the room as the curtains were ripped open. I flinched, throwing up a hand to shield my eyes, the sudden brightness burning into my retinas. My vision blurred, and when it cleared, I saw my hand—bandaged, pale, trembling.Wait… what?The memories came crashing back, a tida
Lub. Dub. Lub. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a deafening echo in the silence that stretched between us. I didn’t understand this man. Why was he so fixated on me? What could he possibly want from someone like me? Taking a deep, shaky breath, I tried, my voice trembling but firm as I clenched my fists to look at him. “See, Your Highness, if you’re doing this just to… to fuck me? I promise you, thousands of other high class beautiful women would be more than willing to worship you. I bet they will be a better sight to look at and can offer you a much better experience than me.You don’t have to waste your time on someone like me—” He throws his head back to chuckle and I look at the corded veins trailing up his long strong neck. My mouth suddenly went dry. Why is he laughing? I didn't jest. Raking his fingers through his jet black hair, those silvery grey eyes looked down at me from under those beautifully curled eyelashes. And I see his lips molding into a thi
Time had become irrelevant. Minutes, hours—they all blurred into one endless stretch of waiting. Sitting there, I couldn’t tell how long had passed. I was trapped in the prison of my own thoughts, each one clawing at my sanity.Twenty-four hours.Could he really find her in twenty-four hours?Doubt was a heavy stone in my chest, pressing against my lungs. What if he didn’t? What if he went back on his word?But no. He was the Werewolf King. His word wasn’t just law—it was ironclad. If there was one thing I knew about him, it was that he didn’t make empty promises. Whether his word brought salvation or destruction, it was always delivered.The sound of footsteps startled me out of my spiraling thoughts. My head snapped up as the door creaked open, and a group of five women entered. They were dressed in crisp maid uniforms, their hair neatly pinned back. Everything about them was polished and orderly, a sharp contrast to the chaos I felt inside.“Good evening, ma’am,” one of them said
“This way, ma’am,” one of the maids said, leading me down the hall.My footsteps echoed against the marble floor, each step heavier than the last.These were the very halls I ran through last night.The very walls that heard me beg for help.But none came.Everyone was loyal to him here. Even the air that I breathe.When we arrived at the Alpha King’s office, the massive double doors swung open with an ominous creak, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence of the hallway.He was there, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, his dark head bent over a stack of papers. The glow of the firelight bathed the room in amber hues, but the warmth it offered didn’t reach me. It couldn’t. The air itself felt bitterly cold—an icy chill that seemed to emanate from him, wrapping itself around my chest like a vice.The maids voice broke the silence. “Your Highness. She is here.”He didn’t even glance up.I lingered in the doorway, the weight of his presence pressing down on me like a physic
Tick. Tick. The sound of the clock reverberated in the suffocating silence, each second a hammer against my chest. My eyes flitted to Killian. He sat, motionless yet terrifying, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. The pen in his hand groaned in protest, his fingers a vice around it. His patience was unraveling. “Get down,” he said, his voice low, guttural—almost a growl. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. I hesitated, my gaze darting to Bane. The massive beast stood there, muscles taut, his black eyes gleaming like liquid night. “But he—” “I said get your ass down, little mouse. Now.” The words cut through me, sharp and final. My stomach twisted, and I swallowed hard. Okay. I can do this. One step at a time. I slid off the desk hesitantly, my bare feet brushing against the cold floor. Bane’s growl deepened, a rumble that vibrated through the room. His eyes never left me, the predator locked on its prey. I flinched as my dress
I could clearly see what he meant by customization because the terms written in front of me weren’t anything you’d expect to find on a paper meant to bind two souls for lifetimes.Instead, they read more like a set of commands—a list of demands etched in ink, cold and final.…Contract of UnionThis document serves as the binding agreement between Party A (the bride) and Party B (the Alpha King). Both parties acknowledge that this union is not founded on affection, love, or partnership but on duty, necessity, and control.Terms of Agreement1. Party A’s Obligations1.1 Absolute Obedience:Party A will comply with every command issued by Party B without hesitation, refusal, or question. Resistance will result in immediate disciplinary action, the severity of which is determined solely by Party B.1.2 Restricted Freedom:Party A may not leave the castle grounds or interact with anyone not pre-approved by Party B. Any attempt to defy this will result in severe consequences.1.3 Access Bo
Killian’s POVBeing the Alpha King comes with its own burdens. My authority extends beyond trivial disputes like thefts and border skirmishes—I oversee the monetary budgets of all 236 werewolf packs scattered across the world. I dictate alliances, settle wars before they even begin, and pass judgment with a single command.I don’t have time for distractions.My days are regimented, each minute accounted for. There’s no room for delays. No space for indulgences.Yet here I am. Sitting back, watching a woman kneel before me.She’s… interesting.Not in the usual way women are—cloying, desperate to claw their way into my bed for status or power. No, she’s different.I like when people cower before me, when fear drips from their trembling forms, feeding the beast within. But her?Don’t mistake her bowed head for submission.Her eyes, though lowered, hold fire. If not for her friend, Lilly, she would be glaring at me outright.My gaze drops to her hands, balled into fists so tight her nails
The tang of blood filled my mouth almost immediately, metallic and bitter. I expected him to yank his hand back, to curse or react in pain. But he didn’t. Instead, his thumb pressed deeper, the motion deliberate, almost punishing.Fuck!I gagged, my throat convulsing as his blood coated my tongue, metallic and vile. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but the sight of him didn’t waver. If anything, his lips curled, and his eyes gleamed with predatory amusement—a wolf savoring his prey’s final thrashes.“That’s more like it,” he rasped, his voice low and serrated, each word slicing into me like a blade. His thumb pressed further into my mouth, forcing me to taste more of him, drowning me in the coppery tang of humiliation.I couldn’t breathe.My lungs clenched in protest, screaming for air as I twisted and writhed beneath him. A feral panic ignited inside me, but before I could pull away, his legs coiled around me, his thighs like steel cables pinning my arms.It wasn’t a hold.
Eve’s POV I stirred awake slowly, my senses groggy and sluggish, as if I had been submerged in a murky haze. The first thing I noticed was the warmth beneath my cheek—solid, firm—and then the dampness at the corner of my lips. My mind froze as realization dawned. A cro- A man’s that was right in front of me. My breath hitched, my eyes widened, and panic unfurled in my chest like a viper poised to strike. The memories hit me like a truck. My torn dress, the approaching guests, the frantic search for a hideout—only to drop under his table, entrapping myself in the little space right between his legs. I had waited for so long. My body was sore, my stomach protesting in hunger. Their business talks had gone on forever. And before I knew it, I had drifted into a deep sleep. It’s a strange power I possess. There were times when I had to sleep on footpaths on chilly nights, with just my shawl covering me. Since then, I’ve been able to sleep anywhere. Yet, not in my wildest dreams
Kane was still talking, something about tracking rogue movements, about needing scouts along the riverbanks, but his voice was just a hum in the background. My focus was shot, my attention stolen by the woman who had the audacity to fall asleep against me, the werewolf King. The strongest and most powerful man in this world. People quiver in my presence, piss their pants at my one command and she is sleeping without a care of this world? How? Did I act soft with her? Am I missing something? Why isn’t she scared of me? I let my fingers trail lower, brushing the nape of her neck. She shivered. A tiny gasp left her lips, but she didn’t wake. Her body curled in tighter, pressing closer, and fuck if that didn’t send a sharp pulse of need straight to my core. The urge to grip her, to fist her hair and make her fully aware of what she was doing to me, was unbearable. My free hand clenched into a fist. Control. I was always in control. But this little mouse was testing it. Testi
Killian’s POVThe scent of ink and aged leather filled the room as I leaned back, fingers grazing the cool surface of the polished desk. Across from me, Alpha Kane sat with his Beta and Third-in-Command, their sharp gazes locked onto mine."Your Highness," Kane began, his voice deep and measured. "The border patrols have reported increased rogue activity near our eastern perimeter. A few skirmishes already, but nothing major—yet. If we don’t act now, it could turn into a full-blown invasion."I drummed my fingers against the desk, processing his words. "How many casualties?"Kane exhaled sharply. "Four dead. Two missing. My men are holding their ground, but it’s clear these bastards are testing us. If they push harder, we’ll need reinforcements."Rogues. Filthy, unclaimed mutts with no allegiance, no pack, no order. Their only instinct was survival, and in their desperation, they threatened the balance I had spent years establishing.I had always eliminated them at first sight, ho
Killian’s POVBeing the Alpha King comes with its own burdens. My authority extends beyond trivial disputes like thefts and border skirmishes—I oversee the monetary budgets of all 236 werewolf packs scattered across the world. I dictate alliances, settle wars before they even begin, and pass judgment with a single command.I don’t have time for distractions.My days are regimented, each minute accounted for. There’s no room for delays. No space for indulgences.Yet here I am. Sitting back, watching a woman kneel before me.She’s… interesting.Not in the usual way women are—cloying, desperate to claw their way into my bed for status or power. No, she’s different.I like when people cower before me, when fear drips from their trembling forms, feeding the beast within. But her?Don’t mistake her bowed head for submission.Her eyes, though lowered, hold fire. If not for her friend, Lilly, she would be glaring at me outright.My gaze drops to her hands, balled into fists so tight her nails
I could clearly see what he meant by customization because the terms written in front of me weren’t anything you’d expect to find on a paper meant to bind two souls for lifetimes.Instead, they read more like a set of commands—a list of demands etched in ink, cold and final.…Contract of UnionThis document serves as the binding agreement between Party A (the bride) and Party B (the Alpha King). Both parties acknowledge that this union is not founded on affection, love, or partnership but on duty, necessity, and control.Terms of Agreement1. Party A’s Obligations1.1 Absolute Obedience:Party A will comply with every command issued by Party B without hesitation, refusal, or question. Resistance will result in immediate disciplinary action, the severity of which is determined solely by Party B.1.2 Restricted Freedom:Party A may not leave the castle grounds or interact with anyone not pre-approved by Party B. Any attempt to defy this will result in severe consequences.1.3 Access Bo
Tick. Tick. The sound of the clock reverberated in the suffocating silence, each second a hammer against my chest. My eyes flitted to Killian. He sat, motionless yet terrifying, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. The pen in his hand groaned in protest, his fingers a vice around it. His patience was unraveling. “Get down,” he said, his voice low, guttural—almost a growl. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. I hesitated, my gaze darting to Bane. The massive beast stood there, muscles taut, his black eyes gleaming like liquid night. “But he—” “I said get your ass down, little mouse. Now.” The words cut through me, sharp and final. My stomach twisted, and I swallowed hard. Okay. I can do this. One step at a time. I slid off the desk hesitantly, my bare feet brushing against the cold floor. Bane’s growl deepened, a rumble that vibrated through the room. His eyes never left me, the predator locked on its prey. I flinched as my dress
“This way, ma’am,” one of the maids said, leading me down the hall.My footsteps echoed against the marble floor, each step heavier than the last.These were the very halls I ran through last night.The very walls that heard me beg for help.But none came.Everyone was loyal to him here. Even the air that I breathe.When we arrived at the Alpha King’s office, the massive double doors swung open with an ominous creak, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence of the hallway.He was there, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, his dark head bent over a stack of papers. The glow of the firelight bathed the room in amber hues, but the warmth it offered didn’t reach me. It couldn’t. The air itself felt bitterly cold—an icy chill that seemed to emanate from him, wrapping itself around my chest like a vice.The maids voice broke the silence. “Your Highness. She is here.”He didn’t even glance up.I lingered in the doorway, the weight of his presence pressing down on me like a physic
Time had become irrelevant. Minutes, hours—they all blurred into one endless stretch of waiting. Sitting there, I couldn’t tell how long had passed. I was trapped in the prison of my own thoughts, each one clawing at my sanity.Twenty-four hours.Could he really find her in twenty-four hours?Doubt was a heavy stone in my chest, pressing against my lungs. What if he didn’t? What if he went back on his word?But no. He was the Werewolf King. His word wasn’t just law—it was ironclad. If there was one thing I knew about him, it was that he didn’t make empty promises. Whether his word brought salvation or destruction, it was always delivered.The sound of footsteps startled me out of my spiraling thoughts. My head snapped up as the door creaked open, and a group of five women entered. They were dressed in crisp maid uniforms, their hair neatly pinned back. Everything about them was polished and orderly, a sharp contrast to the chaos I felt inside.“Good evening, ma’am,” one of them said