The night the Crown Pack invades, Emereah Blade’s world is obliterated. Once the proud princess of the Crescent Silver Moon Fang Pack, she watches in horror as her father—the Alpha King—is slaughtered before her eyes, his lifeblood staining the throne he once ruled. Her people are shackled, reduced to little more than pawns in a war they never saw coming. Emereah, the daughter of a fallen king, is marked not as royalty but as a slave. Emereah is no ordinary captive. Her beauty is both a curse and a weapon—goddess-like, ethereal, and capable of bringing even the strongest men to their knees. It is that very beauty that captures the attention of Vladimir Crown, heir to the Red Crescent Moon Pack—a man who is ruthless and untouchable, as dangerous as he is devastatingly handsome. Stripped of everything, Emereah burns with the fire of vengeance. But fate is a cruel puppeteer, twisting her path in ways she never imagined. Vladimir, drawn to the defiant fire in her eyes, claims her as his personal servant—a choice that sends shockwaves through the pack and awakens a storm of fury in his future Luna, Alexandria Reeve. The throne is her destiny, and Vladimir is hers. Yet as she watches his gaze linger too long on the woman who should be beneath him, jealousy twists into something far darker. Emereah battles the impossible: a dangerous attraction to the very man she should despise, rivalry that could cost her life, and a hunger for vengeance that refuses to die. When love and hatred blur, when desire and destruction entwine, and when the ghosts of the past rise demanding justice, will Emereah rise from the ashes and reclaim her destiny? Or will she be consumed by the very forces that seek to own her?
View MoreThe wind reeked of victory and defiance. The once-great Crescent Silver Moon Fang Pack was nothing more than ashes and memories of the past. The Red Crescent Moon Pack's banners waved over the conquered territory, their soldiers standing victorious over the broken bodies of the defeated. The moon, high and unconcerned, watched as the carnage unfolded.
In the heart of the battlefield, the whole of the Crescent Silver Moon Pack—those who survived—knelt before their new masters. Some silently wept, others shook, their bodies battered and grimed with dirt. But among them, one did not cower.
Emereah Blade, daughter of the fallen Alpha King, refused to bend her head.
Her silver eyes, once a sign of nobility, now blazed with defiance. Her breathing was harsh, her clothes ripped, her body screaming in agony at the new slave mark burned into her neck. But she stood strong, her hands curled into fists at her sides.
She could still hear the echoes of her father's final roar, the keen steel of enemy blades cutting through flesh, and the merciless laughter of the Red Crescent warriors as they slaughtered her people. The memory seared as vividly as the mark on her skin.
At the grand dais, Vladimir Crown—the son of the Red Crescent Moon Pack—sat on the Alpha's throne, his posture relaxed but his golden-amber eyes piercing, calculating, assessing. He radiated power, dominance, and cold detachment, as if he hadn't just masterminded the extermination of an entire bloodline.
To her left, shrouded in regal haughtiness, sat Alexandria Reeve, his Luna-to-be. Her lips curled into a sneering smile, sapphire-blue eyes glinting with mirth as she looked upon the broken nobles who had nothing, who were nothing but cattle.
The jeering crowd laughed as, one by one, the prisoners bowed. But when Emereah stood her ground, the atmosphere shifted.
The laughter died.
A cold silence fell.
Alexandria's heels clicked on stone as she stepped forward, standing mere inches from Emereah. She leaned forward, mocking curiosity on her face.
"This one is different," she said, her voice dripping with poisonous sweetness. She leaned forward, tracing a single manicured finger under Emereah's chin, forcing her to look up. "Perhaps she still clings to her past."
Emereah's jaw clenched. Every instinct of her being screamed to snap those delicate fingers in two, but she did not move. She would not be the first to break.
Alexandria leaned in closer, her voice a whisper, but loud enough for all to hear. "Let me tell you something, princess," she sneered, her nails digging slightly into Emereah's skin. "You are nothing. No family. No home. No crown. Just a pretty little toy waiting to be played with."
The crowd laughed cruelly, wallowing in her humiliation.
Still, Emereah did not look away.
Her silence, her refusal to submit, was enough to feed Alexandria's anger.
Alexandria's grip on Emereah's chin tightened as she hissed, "Bow, slave."
A flicker of uncertainty.
And then—
"No."
A collective gasp ran through the audience.
Vladimir, who had been watching with detached amusement, suddenly leaned forward, golden eyes narrowing. The audacity. The sheer defiance.
For a moment, something unreadable flickered through his gaze. But it was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by icy indifference.
"You don't understand your place." His voice was smooth, deep—though brutally cold. "You don't get to make the choice, Emereah Blade. You are no longer a princess."
His words were keener than any blade.
"You are mine now."
The declaration hung suspended in mid-air. The hum of the crowd altered to aghast whispers, a sadistic thrill glinting in their eyes.
Alexandria's smirk faltered. Her hand on Emereah's chin clamped tighter before she jerked back, her eyes blazing at Vladimir.
"You're keeping her?" she spat, venom creeping into the incredulity. "She should be dead, not standing here like some untouchable goddess."
Vladimir rose, his towering form casting a long, dark shadow over Emereah. His eyes flickered over her with calculated interest—not desire, not lust, but something colder, something deadlier.
"She entertains me."
Alexandria's body stiffened. The crowd murmured again, sensing the tension between the future Luna and her Alpha.
"You're preferring a slave over your mate?" Alexandria's voice cracked, her nails digging into her palms.
Vladimir's lips curled into a slow, cruel smile. "I do not recall ever saying I preferred you, Alexandria."
The crowd stilled, as if the weight of his words had sucked the very air from the battlefield.
Alexandria paled before her fury boiled into something volatile. "She's a slave! You can't prefer her—"
Vladimir turned his eyes on her, his voice a sharp blade cutting through the air.
"I prefer no one. I own everything. Including her."
Emereah felt the cold sting of his words, but she refused to look away. She would not break—not before them, not before him.
Vladimir moved closer, stopping so close his heat was a contrast to the ice in his eyes. He reached out, his fingers tracing the burning slave mark on her neck.
"You will serve me." His voice was low, menacing. "You will kneel when I command you to. And you will break when I choose you to."
Emereah stood firm, her silver eyes a tempest against his golden blaze. "You will regret this." "You will regret this."The words hung there, a tempest meeting fire.
Vladimir's golden-amber eyes locked with hers, unreadable and piercing, as if daring her to deny him. The flickering flames of the victory pyres cast jagged shadows on his face, and he seemed all the more inhuman—cruel, unapproachable.
Then, slowly, his lips curled into something almost, but not quite, a smirk. Almost.
"Regret?" His voice was low, lethal. "A slave defies me?"
The whole Red Crescent Moon Pack was silent. Anticipation. Tension. No one had ever defied Vladimir Crown and lived.
He moved in closer. Too close. Close enough that Emereah could feel the heat radiating off him, but his eyes were nothing but ice.
"Tell me, little princess," he whispered, leaning in, taunting her title as if it were a dead joke. "What exactly do you think I will regret?"
Emereah gritted her teeth together. She could not show weakness. Not here. Not now.
"Keeping me alive," she snarled, her voice rebellious despite the shackles on her wrists. "Not killing me when I had the chance."
For a moment, something flickered in Vladimir's eyes, something she couldn't quite read. But then it was gone, replaced by that same cold amusement.
"You think that I had no reason to spare your life."
The way he said it so offhand, so unflappable, made something inside of her boil with even more fury.
"You will regret it." Her voice was steel, unbreakable. "Mark my words, Vladimir Crown."
His face was still impassive, but the slight incline of his head told her that she had his full attention.
Then—
Slap!
The jarring shock of impact echoed through the air as Alexandria's palm slapped into Emereah's cheek. The impact of it jerked her head to the side, the metallic rush of blood in her mouth.
The crowd gasped, a mixture of shock and excitement at Alexandria's sudden outburst.
"Enough."
Alexandria's voice was cutting, venomous, trembling with sheer fury.
"I've had enough of her impertinence, Vladimir!" she snarled, turning to face him. "She's a captive! A slave! And you stand here, playing to her like she's worth something!"
The insult cut hard, but Emereah didn't waver.
Instead, she smirked, tilting her head back up, silver eyes glinting with something dark, something dangerous. It wasn't submission. It was challenge.
Alexandria saw it. And it snapped her.With a snarl of rage, she seized Emereah by the hair and yanked her forward, pushing her to her knees.
"Bow, slave," she spat. "You have no right to regard your Alpha as an equal."
Vladimir said nothing. Watching. Evaluating.
Emereah's scalp seared, but she did not give. She would not give Alexandria the satisfaction.
Alexandria leaned in, her breath hot and angry against Emereah's ear. "I will make your life hell. Every moment you draw breath in this pack will be agony, I swear it."
Emereah breathed out, slow and deliberate, before raising her gaze once more, meeting Vladimir's eyes.
"If I am to be a slave," she said, voice full of quiet defiance, "then why is she so afraid of me?"
Alexandria tensed.
For a split second, a crack appeared in her perfect mask of control. The crowd murmured, sensing the break.
Vladimir's smirk returned amused, intrigued, dangerous.
"Interesting."
The single word sent a shiver of tension through the air.
Alexandria turned back to him, eyes wild with disbelief.
"Vladimir, she—"
He raised a hand. The command was silent, but absolute. Alexandria bit her lip, furious but unable to disobey.
Vladimir moved forward again, looming over Emereah.
"You amuse me, Emereah Blade," he said finally, his voice carrying across the entire pack. "Let's see how long that lasts."
Then without breaking eye contact he raised a single boot and pressed it against her shoulder, pushing her fully onto the ground.
The crowd erupted.
Emereah landed on the dirt, her cheek scraping against the cold earth, but still she did not break.
Not today.
Not ever.
The fire now had a name.Emereah.It was not only in her eyes, or in the touch of her hands, or in the whisper of Vladimir's name like a prayer gone sour—it was present in the very air she surrounded herself with. A slow-consuming, unstoppable blaze that consumed everyone too close to her into dust.And Vladimir?He was already ablaze.He sat in the window of the eastern wing at dawn, the sky still bruised from night, gazing over her sleeping form on the divan. She had insisted on remaining near him, refused to let him sleep in his own rooms, had cried when he'd even spoken of it.And there she was now.Serene. Beautiful. Deadly.Her lips curled once in sleep, and she murmured something—his name, maybe. Or a threat. With her nowadays, there was no difference.Helena slipped in behind him, holding a creased report."She broke Mireille's arm," she breathed."I know.""She threatened another noble's mate in the corridor. We had to postpone the afternoon audience.""I know."Helena stood
The great hall of the Red Crescent Moon Pack hummed with tension. Guards stood against the stone walls, nobles spoke in hushed tones behind velvet sleeves, and advisors kept looking toward the high throne where Vladimir sat by himself.By himself, for Emereah was late again."She's developing unpredictability," one of the elders whispered."She's developing danger," another growled.The doors groaned open before anyone could comment.Emereah strode in, barefoot, her long dark red robe flowing behind her like spilled blood. Her eyes raked the room—not with innocence or poise, but with the ravenous, unbalanced desire of a wolf unfed for days.She spied Vladimir.And smiled. "There you are," she chimed in saccharine sweetness, as if she hadn't just left an hour before. "Missed you?"Vladimir rose to his feet. "Emereah, this is a council session—""Council?" she repeated. Her eyes drifted to the nobles in the ring below. "They are still trying to keep you apart from me, are not they?""Em
"Touch what is mine, not." Emereah's voice was cracked like lightning. Bare slaps resounded as she barefooted it across the marble, but she appeared to be volcanic, she was so immovable. "You do not lay hands on what is mine."Gossips spread like fire consuming dry ground."Your Lady Emereah—" the Beta began."I am Luna," she mocked him, her eyes iced with fire-like frost. "Say my title correctly, or farewell to tongue."The Beta bowed forthwith, droplets of perspiration at temples. "Yes, Luna."Vladimir had had his fill at last.He stood, deep, commanding voice. "Emereah. With me. At once."Her eyes stabbed him. The fire faded—but lingered. "Why? To protect her?""Now."Her jaw was clenched. And then, like a sulky mollified child who scorned anything but a precious toy, she walked to his side and curled her fingers around his. She clung like ivy—slow, elegant, stifling.They moved silently through the castle corridors until the doors to their own room softly creaked shut behind them.
"Did she attempt to persuade you to leave?""Yes."She spun around."And what did you reply?""I said I won't.""Did you enjoy your little conversation?" she asked gently."Emereah—"She spun about, anger dancing in her eyes. "Don't say my name like that. Like a child having a tantrum. Like I had no idea what was happening."He hesitated. "Nothing is happening."She laughed with acid venom. "Liar.""Emereah—""Liar!" she yelled, and the mirror she stood before vibrated, the glass groaning across its image like a wound.Vladimir's wolf stiffened.Her magic had never been so strong before. Not even in combat.She moved towards him warily, shaking with rage. "And what is Helena to you, Vladimir?" Her voice was husky, deadly. "Once, you had Alexandria. Your beautiful Alexandria. The one you locked up in your dungeon but cherished in your heart.""That's not true—""And now it's Helena. Helena with her whispers. Her history. Her devotion. You let her speak to you as if I didn't exist!""He
The air was heavy with heat and quiet peril, encased in gold firelight and silk blankets that curled around them like snakes. Emereah slept peacefully, a gentle breathing on Vladimir's skin, her arm taken possessively thrown over his chest.He hadn't stirred. Not for hours.His hand stayed lightly on her spine, but his mind seethed like a storm beneath the surface.Each breath she took pressed her bare skin against his ribs, and each second felt heavier than the last. His wolf—so often wild and sure—paced inside him now, anxious. Conflicted.Because he hadn’t imagined it.She’d meant every word.“I’ll kill them all…”And not with the detachment of a queen defending her claim—but with a child’s desperate fury. Like someone who'd lost too many things, too many people, and finally snapped.He breathed slowly and moved his eyes to the window.There, beyond the ice-encrusted glass, the moon hung low. Pale. Watching.A sharp knock shattered the quiet.Then another. Louder."Your Majesty!" G
The sunlight of morning filtered through the heavy velvet curtains like a warning and not a blessing.Vladimir woke to a stirring, the warm heat of Emereah too much, too much, enveloping him. She was around him like ivy on stone, her nails grasping barely on his chest. Her red hair was around his neck, her hot, harsh breath on his skin.She hadn't slept. Not really.His eyes gradually opened. She was looking at him."Emereah," he croaked."You disappeared in my dream," she breathed, eyes growing wide and feral. "I was crying for you, but you didn't respond."Vladimir eased himself up, unentwining her arms from around his arms. "It was only a dream."Her face contorted. "But it occurred. It felt like they were taking you away from me. I woke up and thought—maybe you'd left.""I didn't," he growled."I'm here.""But for how long?" she ordered, near accusatorily. Her hand tightened around his arm. "You'll leave. Everyone leaves. Except that you shouldn't."He gritted his teeth. "You're t
The sunbeam stroked the velvet drapes with a gentle touch, and gold stripes fell away on the bed where Vladimir lay. The morning calm was sacred—but Emereah had already awakened, much sooner than the sun would cross the hills.She was regarding him.Nestled next to him in slumber, her palm lay upon his bare chest, fingers tracing patterns in the air above the runes inked over his skin. Her eyes did not blink. They burned with feverish intensity, a passion bordering on madness. "Mine." The words were a breathless whisper of awe. "You're mine."Vladimir stirred. His brows furrowed as her voice pulled him from sleep.What time is it?" he whispered drowsily.Emereah's lips grazed his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. I won't waste a single second without you."He shifted to the side, keeping her gaze. Something was amiss—something too raw, too frantic. It annoyed him for a moment. But then she kissed him, and the uncertainty disolved into nothing."Last night," she breathed. "You gave me lif
He buried his face in her pussy and fully dedicated himself to taking her to orgasm. The Alpha licked the blade of his tongue up and down her vulva slowly. He left a string of whispy kisses on her clit, then rimmed it with his tongue. Emereah threw her head back and groaned. With his lips still on her, He inserted a finger into her cunt. She was tight and wet. Vladimir's dick pounded to slam her against the desk, but he was determined to get Emereah off first. He inched one finger in and out slowly, and then added another. When he hit the rough sweet spot, he curled his fingers, tickled it with his fingertips, and in the process, licked her clit. Emereah gasped and the whole of her body hardened it was the first time she experienced such. She looked at the smile of Vladimir."Do not play games with me and be gentle my Alpha," she admonished."My love, I dare not and I will be soft my luna."Emereah slapped Vladimir's face back down once more, and he was more than willing to comply. He
The moon rode high—silver and watchful—casting a chill gleam upon Vladimir's private quarters' obsidian walls. There was a fire in the hearth, sputtering like muffled mirth. Silk drapes rippled on the unseen wind. And at the center of the great bed, draped in sheets of blood-red velvet, sat Emereah—still, waiting.She was clothed in nothing but a gossamer mantle of gold, the leftovers of ritualistic robes cast off by invisible slaves at the bidding of the sorcerer. Her hair cascaded in waves of red down her spine, her skin glowing faintly with the remains of the spell. Her eyes—blue pale ones—were the oddest of all, however. Still. But unempty.Vladimir entered, his robe half-open, his gaze locked on her as if she were the world and all its stars. He stopped a few paces away from the bed and looked at her."Do you know what tonight is, my Luna?" he whispered.Emereah nodded once. "Our bond night."His lips curled. "Yes. Our final seal. After this… no magic can undo what we become.".
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