One white wolf. Five fated mates. One curse that could destroy them all. Veyra Hale has lived her entire life in secret. Born a rare white wolf-an omen of prophecy and peril-her very existence is forbidden. Only her family knows the truth, and they've spent decades keeping her isolated, her powers dormant, her heart guarded. But fate doesn't care for secrets. On her twenty-second moon, the bonds begin to stir. One by one, her mates find her: a fierce warrior, a loyal Beta, a cunning Gamma, and a gentle Omega-each from rival packs that should never cross paths, let alone share the same mate. Passion ignites. Loyalties are tested. And through it all, a terrible truth looms: no wolf has ever survived the claiming of five bonds. Because the fifth mate... is a death sentence. When Zarek Vorn, the cold and ruthless Alpha known as the Mad Wolf of the North, crosses into her life, everything shifts. Their connection is instant. Irresistible. And utterly dangerous. But something darker stirs beyond desire-a secret cult once sworn to eliminate all white wolves is rising again. And when whispers of Veyra's many mates spread beyond the trees, the world begins to hunt her. Love will bind her. Betrayal will break her. And destiny will either crown her queen... or consume her whole. A heart-wrenching, steamy, and breathtakingly emotional saga of forbidden love, shattering secrets, and the power of a bond forged in moonlight.
Lihat lebih banyakThe forest whispered her name.
Veyra Hale stood at the edge of the glade, her breath steady but her heart pounding like a war drum. The moon was high, silver light casting shadows that danced between the tall trees of the Moonfang Pack's outer territory. Out here, there were no curious eyes, no judgmental stares—just the wind, the trees, and the cold truth that she did not belong. She had never belonged. At twenty-two, Veyra's life had been one long, cautious inhale—never quite able to breathe out. She moved like a ghost among the living, careful not to draw attention, never stepping too far from the outskirts of the pack. Her family had built their home here, a cabin tucked deep in the shadows of the wild, far from the central pack village. It wasn't by chance. It was by design. By fear. Because Veyra Hale was no ordinary wolf. She was the white wolf—the last of her kind. Rare. Forbidden. Hunted. She tugged the hood of her cloak tighter around her face as the breeze stirred her long silver-blonde hair. The color was a tell, even if most dismissed it as mere genetics. But her family knew better. Her parents had told her the truth when she turned fifteen—on the night she shifted for the first time under a blood moon. Her wolf had emerged not the color of ash or night like the others in the pack, but bright, luminous white. Glowing. Otherworldly. Her mother had wept. Her father had gone still. They knew what it meant. The old legends warned of her kind—white wolves bound to great power, and greater danger. And with power came fear. With fear came death. So they hid her. Her mother, Maelin Hale, had enchanted the entire perimeter of their home, casting protective wards in ancient tongues Veyra could never pronounce. Her father, Elias Hale, a battle-hardened beta and warrior with scars older than her, trained her to defend herself in case the wards ever failed. And Jon—her older brother, her rock—watched over her like a second shadow, never too far, always there when the nightmares came. But hiding came with a price. She had never played with the other pups. Never joined the pack hunts. Never shifted with the moonrise around the fire circle like the others. While they lived, she lingered. Veyra sighed and turned back toward the cabin, the wind curling against her cheek like a cold kiss. She didn't belong, but gods, she wanted to. She wanted to run, to laugh, to feel what it was like to not be afraid. Even if just once. Behind her, a twig snapped. Veyra's heart leapt into her throat, her wolf rising sharply beneath her skin. It stirred like a second heart, wild and ready, the pull of the shift teasing her bones. Her muscles tensed, her breath caught—then she smelled him. Pine. Iron. Ash. "Veyra!" Jon's voice cracked through the stillness like a blade, firm and sharp. He emerged from the tree line, chest rising and falling as if he'd been running. His black hair was tousled, his eyes fierce and golden. He looked like their father more with each passing year—broad, lethal, a warrior in every breath he took. But his face softened when his eyes landed on her. "What the hell are you doing out here?" he growled, stepping closer, eyes scanning the forest behind her. "You almost shifted, didn't you?" Veyra looked away, shame flushing her cheeks. "I didn't mean to. Something startled me." "That's not an excuse," he snapped, then quickly caught himself. His jaw flexed, and he exhaled slowly, stepping forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. "You can't afford mistakes. Not here. Not this close to the full moon." "I know," she whispered. "I just... needed air." Jon's gaze softened again. "I get it. But you have to be smarter. You know the stories. If anyone finds out—" "I'll be hunted. Killed. Cursed." She said it bitterly, her voice tight. He flinched, just a little. "Don't say it like that." "Why not? It's the truth." Jon pulled her into a hug before she could pull away. He was always like this—sharp with his words, but gentle with his love. She leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder for a moment. Here, at least, she could be herself. Even if that self was a caged bird. They stood there for a while, the forest quieting around them. Then Jon pulled back, brushing a leaf from her hair. "Let's go back," he said. "Mom made stew." Veyra hesitated, her eyes lifting toward the trees again. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different?" "All the time," Jon said. "But wondering doesn't change what is. We protect you because we love you. One day, maybe that won't be necessary." She nodded slowly, but her heart was heavy. Hope was a dangerous thing. They walked back together in silence, side by side through the thick underbrush. The Hale family home came into view soon—a two-story cabin made of dark timber and stone, warm light spilling from the windows. It looked normal. Safe. But it was a fortress built on secrets. Inside, Elias sat sharpening his blade near the fireplace, his presence a constant wall of strength. He didn't speak much, but his eyes met Veyra's as she entered, and she felt the quiet love in his gaze. He gave her a single nod—his way of saying, you're safe. Maelin turned from the kitchen, her long dark curls falling around her shoulders, her eyes glowing faintly from whatever spell she'd just finished. She smiled, but it was tinged with weariness. Veyra walked to her and wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. "Were you outside?" Maelin asked softly. Veyra hesitated, then nodded. "Just for a little while." Maelin kissed the top of her head. "You must be careful, my heart. The world doesn't yet deserve to see who you truly are." "I'm tired of hiding," Veyra whispered. Maelin cupped her cheek gently. "I know. But the moon watches, and the stars remember. Your time will come." Later that night, as Veyra lay in her bed staring at the ceiling, she felt the weight of a thousand unseen chains on her chest. She was the white wolf in the shadows. Hidden. Protected. Feared. But something deep within her stirred, ancient and electric. Change was coming. She didn't know when. Or how. But she felt it in her bones. And so did her wolf. ⸻ Hello everyone, Finally finally, we have our first chapter. Thank you for taking your time to join us as we begin the journey of this amazing book. I hope you all loved the first chapter as we finally get to meet our sweet Veyra. Let me know your thoughts in the comment session. Stay on your toes, this is just the beginning. There's still a whole lot to unravel, secrets, love, betrayal and many more. Be rest assured, you'll love it. Don't forget to vote and recommend to your friends and family. Until next time, xoxo.The full moon hovered like a glowing sentinel above the Moonfang Pack's territory, casting a silver sheen across the sacred grounds nestled deep within the woods. The trees swayed with a ghostly hush as if whispering secrets to the stars. The air buzzed with anticipation—an unspoken energy that crackled beneath the solemn stillness of the ritual night.Veyra stood cloaked in the crowd, heart pounding, her eyes trained on the flickering fire at the center of the moon-circle. Though she wore a hood that shadowed her features, she could feel the weight of unseen eyes—some curious, some cautious, and one pair...watchful in a way that made her skin prickle.She didn't belong here. Not in the open. Not where whispers could catch fire.But tonight wasn't about her—it was about tradition. The full moon ritual was sacred to all packs. A time of renewal, blessing, and balance. It was one of the few events where even the isolated Moonfang allowed outsiders to enter the fold—under tight supervisi
The firelight in the Hale hearth flickered like a heartbeat, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. Veyra sat cross-legged on the floor, staring into the flames, her fingers absently tracing the hem of her wool cloak. The house was quiet—too quiet. Her father and brother were out on patrol again, and her mother, Maelin, moved silently in the adjoining room, stirring herbs into vials and whispering incantations to ease the lingering illness that still clung to parts of the pack.But Veyra's silence had nothing to do with the sickness. It had everything to do with the white wolf she saw in her dreams.The fourth bond had changed something inside her. Rune's touch hadn't just sparked the connection—it had unlocked a deeper part of her soul. Since that moment, her dreams had become a realm of moonlight and magic. Every time she closed her eyes, she found herself standing in a forest of silver trees, her paws—white as fresh snow—crunching softly beneath her. She wasn't just seeing
The disease came like a whisper on the wind, silent and unseen. One day the pups were laughing under the trees; the next, they were coughing, burning with fevers no healer could name. The sickness spread with cruel precision through the Moonfang Pack, sparing no den or warrior's quarters. Veyra had watched it unfold from the safety of the outer territory, her heart clenched with helpless fear as her people—though they barely knew her—suffered.Two weeks had passed since the first wolf fell ill. Maelin had been working day and night with the Moonfang healers, pouring through ancient tomes and crushed herbs, casting spells of protection on the borders of their home. Veyra had helped quietly, cloaked and hidden, boiling roots, scrubbing cloths clean of blood and vomit. She had seen children limp in their mothers' arms, warriors too strong to break now collapsed and shivering. It was a strange kind of war, one without a visible enemy—but it was a war all the same.When the Thornswell Pack
The first thing Veyra heard was laughter.Not just any laughter—his laughter.It drifted through the trees like wind catching fireflies, playful and warm, stirring something in her chest she didn't want to name. Zevi was lounging on a low branch, just above her head, when she entered the glade they'd secretly been meeting in for the last three days. He always seemed to know when she'd be there. Or maybe he was always waiting. Either way, he made it seem like it was all just coincidence."Didn't know wolves climbed trees," Veyra said flatly, arms crossed.Zevi grinned, his amber eyes catching the sunlight like a challenge. "We don't. But I'm not like most wolves. Haven't you figured that out yet?""You're something, alright," she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched. She hated how easily he could coax a smile out of her, how her chest fluttered when he was near, how calm her wolf was around him—like the storm in her bones grew quiet in his presence.He dropped from the bra
The morning sun hung low, spilling gold through the tangled canopy above as Veyra laced her boots. A crisp breeze drifted through the trees, tugging at the edge of her cloak like a whisper, as if the forest itself wanted to speak. She tightened the strap on her quiver and looked toward her brother. Jon Hale, already armed and ready, leaned against a tree, sharpening his blade with quick, precise strokes. His dark hair was tied back, and his sharp jaw was set in concentration—but when he looked up at her, his eyes softened."You good, pup?" he asked, voice low and warm.Veyra gave him a look. "I'm twenty-two, Jon. You've gotta stop calling me that."He grinned, a rare break in his usual solemn expression. "You'll always be my pup. Now let's move. It's just a training hunt, but I want you sharp.""Training hunt" was code. They both knew it. Ever since Kael and Lioren, her body had begun to change. Her senses were heightening, her reflexes sharpening. The bonds were awakening something d
Veyra Hale dreamed in shadows now.In the quietest hours of the night, she lay motionless in her bed, but her soul wandered far from the safety of the small cabin tucked deep into the forest's edge. The dreams had started two nights ago—after the festival. After Lioren.In her vision, five figures stood in a circle around her. Each of them loomed tall, their forms cloaked in mist, their eyes glowing with distinct colors: crimson, silver, obsidian, deep gold, and sapphire. None of them spoke. They only watched her. Their presence didn't feel threatening—it felt inevitable. Like destiny had wrapped her in their chains and tossed the key into the moonlight.She woke with a gasp, breathless, clutching at her chest as if she could pull the lingering sensation from her skin. Her wolf, usually quiet, now stirred with hunger and alertness. Something inside her had awakened. Magic, Maelin had called it. The mark of her kind—the rare, myth-bound white wolf.And now, with each bond that formed,
The scent of roasted meat, pine sap, and crushed wildflowers drifted through the air like an intoxicating perfume. The central clearing of the Moonfang Pack had been transformed overnight into a mosaic of banners, lanterns, and ceremonial fire pits. Wolves from neighboring territories—some bitter rivals, others cautious allies—had gathered for the annual Festival of Unity, a political dance cloaked in smiling faces and carefully chosen words.Veyra Hale watched from the safety of the tree line, her hood drawn low, her heart pounding. She wasn't supposed to be here. She'd promised Jon and her parents she would stay hidden during the festival. The stakes were too high—too many strangers, too many risks. But curiosity had always been her undoing, and the call of the world beyond her isolation had grown louder since her strange encounter with Kael.Now, as twilight bled across the sky, she stood cloaked in anonymity, the festival glowing before her like a dream she'd never been allowed to
The moon had risen high by the time Kael slipped away from the Ironhowl merchant encampment. The light cast eerie silver streaks over the woodland paths, shadows dancing across the snow-dusted ground like spirits shifting in the dark. But Kael's mind wasn't on the moon or the cold. It was on her—the girl with eyes like stormlight and a scent that had embedded itself deep into his memory.He didn't even know her name."Who is she?" he muttered under his breath, weaving between carts and trader tents. "She has to belong to this pack..."But when he asked—quietly, cautiously, pulling aside younger warriors or curious market dwellers—they gave only shrugs and confused expressions."No one like that lives around here," one said."Sounds like you were hallucinating," another chuckled.Kael narrowed his eyes. His wolf snarled within. They were lying—or someone was hiding her. That kind of bond didn't just happen. And it sure as hell didn't go away. He remembered the way her body had jolted w
The morning broke quietly, the sun stretching golden fingers across the treetops outside the Hale cabin. Inside, it was a flurry of movement. Jon Hale buckled the last strap on his chest armor, the leather creaking as he adjusted the fit. His black cloak lay folded on the table, and his weapons were freshly sharpened. Though it was just a patrol mission to the neighboring border near Stonefang Ridge, he treated every assignment with the seriousness of war. That's how their father raised him—prepared, alert, unshakable. Veyra stood near the doorway, watching him with tight lips and folded arms. She hated when he left. The world outside their secluded haven felt sharper, more dangerous, without Jon's calming presence. He always made her feel like no harm could touch her. "You'll only be gone two days?" she asked. "Two and a half, max. We're just checking trade routes, reinforcing some pack-to-pack borders. Nothing serious," Jon replied, though his tone was clipped. "Still, I want y
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