He was shirtless, his body still sweaty from the intense training he was having. His developed muscles flexed, but he welcomed the ache. It kept his mind from wandering, or thinking about the problems he had. Life as an alpha isn't all that easy you know. Being in his garden wasn’t the usual thing for him. But he did not come here to take a walk. The garden was her place—it was quiet. Something about the silence gave him peace of mind. And he needed to clear his mind. Training had been his escape, his way of silencing the chaos swirling in his thoughts, and he didn’t want to do it at the training ground. He wanted to be away from everyone else, away from the drama. Then he heard it. A soft fragile sound that he knew was unusual. It didn't belong to the winds or the trees. It was a sobbing sound. Someone was sobbing. And he wondered who it was. He slowed his steps, brow furrowing as he followed the sound. And there; behind the raspberry bushes was someone, curled in on herse
“And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’re right. I’m just a thief. But I do it to survive. To cater for Jack.” Her words sank into him like stone. Cove stepped forward, slow. Measured and Careful. “You know, people fear what they don’t understand,” he said. “You are an outsider. I think that’s pretty normal. And you’re stubborn.” She scoffed bitterly. “Yeah, well. That didn’t get me far, did it?” He sat down on the grass, a few feet away. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to see her clearly in the fading light. They sat in silence, the weight of it not entirely uncomfortable. For a second, the world narrowed to just this: two people who had no business understanding each other—yet somehow, did. Cove studied her face. The bruises under her eyes. The way her lips trembled. She looked like she was falling apart. And it shook him— and deep in his heart for some reason he knew how much he wanted to stop it. He surprised himself by asking, “Do you want to talk about h
“Open the gates! Now!” a commanding voice echoed from the estate’s watchtower. “Move those damn carts, you fools!” barked another voice, the commander, his tone sharp with impatience. “Get those horses under control before they crush someone!” Warriors scrambled to clear the path as the carriage convoy rolled in, wheels grinding over cobblestone. "Ehh! That’s Vanor steel on the trim," one of the guards muttered under his breath. "Wait... Is it really him?" "Who?" The guard slapped the back of his companion’s head playfully, a grin tugging at his lips. “Idiot. You don’t know anything, do you? "Naigel, come on! You always hit me. That’s not fair" he called out, his voice gentle but laced with concern. “That’s the Silverstone Pack’s alpha. How do you not recognize him?” He chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're even paying attention." "I thought he never left the North..." Before the conversation could go any further, the commander stepped forwa
Lycia needed to see more.She brushed past a distracted guard, walking directly to the courtyard. “The whole damn courtyard feels like a theater rehearsal,” she muttered, slipping into the light.She almost numbed into a servant wobbling under a stack of velvet boxes.“Careful with that peasant,” Alpha Damien was said. “That Obsidian Talon alone could bankrupt your bloodline, crafted by Veyron the Elder himself.” He said boastfully, looking at everyone as Alpha Cove walked closely to himLycia arched a brow. “Must be nice to travel with your ego gift-wrapped.”“Well, well,” Damien said, polished boots crunching over the gravel as he spread his arms with theatrical grace. “Still broody. Still stern. Honestly, Cove, I’m starting to think you sleep standing up in a coffin.”He paused dramatically, tilting his head with mock concern.“Cove, you really should try smiling. Or drinking. Or, gods forbid…” he leaned in, voice lowering like a secret brushing Cove’s ear. “Getting laid. You lo
Lucas walked back into the grand hall, jaw tight and unhappy. He had just come from the garden; where Seth’s voice had wrapped around him like silk. Every word had felt like a caress in disguise. A trap. Now, inside, laughter crashed like waves, wine shimmered; but it all felt distant. Blurred. Because Seth was still in his head. He slid into his seat, fingers curling around the table’s edge like he needed to anchor himself. One breath. Two breath. He was fine. He had to be. Then came the heat. The scent and presence of you know who. Seth. He took the seat beside him, much too close, their knees brushing. “You left in such a rush,” Seth said, voice a velvet blade. Lucas didn’t look at him. His spine stiffened. His face remained forward. He tried to focus. But none of it worked. Not when Seth watched him like a prey, patient and hungry. The hall continued burn bright. Spiced wine floated like temptation. Laughter erupted mostly from Damien, who was already mocking t
The cold evening sky of Crimson City was filled with heavy clouds, blocking out the stars with the moon partly covered. The city’s streets filled with grime, due to a heavy downpour of rain, and shadows with whispers from those living in the streets adding a little life to it. Lycia Carter, crouched on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. Her breath fogged in the frosty air struggling with the cold. Her arms wrapped around her body and her eyes stretched out, leading toward the glittering mansions of the wealthy. Lycia spent her life living with the forgotten, the unseen and the unworthy. The kind of people who scraped by on luck and grit to survive. But tonight was different. Something different was going to happen. Tonight, she was on a mission that could change everything, not just for herself but for Jack too. Jack’s voice echoed in her thoughts, very weak and rasping, as he held her hands that morning.“..listen kid… don't do anything foolish. I’ll get better, I promise” h
A chill ran down her spine. They were not alone. The voice was low, smooth, and laced with a subdued menace that made Lycia’s blood run cold. Her hands were still hovering over the desk, her every instinct screaming at her to turn around, to run, to fight. But she stayed still, her breath shallow, her mind racing. This wasn’t part of the plan. But then again, plans in Crimson City rarely survived the night.Before she could react, a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, pinning her against the wall. She barely had a chance to scream, before air was knocked out of her lungs, and she struggled, but the grip around her wrists was unyielding and too strong. His presence was overwhelming, the heat of his body pressing against her back. Her breath came in ragged gasps as his hand slid down her arm, pulling the small dagger she had in crossbody bag from her effortlessly. His fingers lingered on her skin, a dangerous mix of possessiveness and raw power.Lycia struggled, trying to c
Lycia stirred from the haze of unconsciousness, the remnants of restless dreams clawing at her mind. The feeling of weightlessness from her escape attempt and the crushing certainty of Cove’s grip, all replaying in flashes in her mind. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the soft, golden light around her felt odd and disorienting. The world around her was calm, in fact too calm, and it took her a few seconds to remember where she was. Her heart sank as her surroundings came into focus. She was lying in a massive bed, draped in blankets so soft and luxurious that they felt almost otherworldly against her skin. The mattress beneath her was plush, the kind that swallowed you whole. She ran her fingers along the surface of the blankets, feeling silk and fur, yet it felt wrong, alien and somewhat mocking. The room itself was quite imposing. The polished wooden floors reflected the soft light spilling from a chandelier that hung like a humongous spider from the ceiling. Floor-to-
Lucas walked back into the grand hall, jaw tight and unhappy. He had just come from the garden; where Seth’s voice had wrapped around him like silk. Every word had felt like a caress in disguise. A trap. Now, inside, laughter crashed like waves, wine shimmered; but it all felt distant. Blurred. Because Seth was still in his head. He slid into his seat, fingers curling around the table’s edge like he needed to anchor himself. One breath. Two breath. He was fine. He had to be. Then came the heat. The scent and presence of you know who. Seth. He took the seat beside him, much too close, their knees brushing. “You left in such a rush,” Seth said, voice a velvet blade. Lucas didn’t look at him. His spine stiffened. His face remained forward. He tried to focus. But none of it worked. Not when Seth watched him like a prey, patient and hungry. The hall continued burn bright. Spiced wine floated like temptation. Laughter erupted mostly from Damien, who was already mocking t
Lycia needed to see more.She brushed past a distracted guard, walking directly to the courtyard. “The whole damn courtyard feels like a theater rehearsal,” she muttered, slipping into the light.She almost numbed into a servant wobbling under a stack of velvet boxes.“Careful with that peasant,” Alpha Damien was said. “That Obsidian Talon alone could bankrupt your bloodline, crafted by Veyron the Elder himself.” He said boastfully, looking at everyone as Alpha Cove walked closely to himLycia arched a brow. “Must be nice to travel with your ego gift-wrapped.”“Well, well,” Damien said, polished boots crunching over the gravel as he spread his arms with theatrical grace. “Still broody. Still stern. Honestly, Cove, I’m starting to think you sleep standing up in a coffin.”He paused dramatically, tilting his head with mock concern.“Cove, you really should try smiling. Or drinking. Or, gods forbid…” he leaned in, voice lowering like a secret brushing Cove’s ear. “Getting laid. You lo
“Open the gates! Now!” a commanding voice echoed from the estate’s watchtower. “Move those damn carts, you fools!” barked another voice, the commander, his tone sharp with impatience. “Get those horses under control before they crush someone!” Warriors scrambled to clear the path as the carriage convoy rolled in, wheels grinding over cobblestone. "Ehh! That’s Vanor steel on the trim," one of the guards muttered under his breath. "Wait... Is it really him?" "Who?" The guard slapped the back of his companion’s head playfully, a grin tugging at his lips. “Idiot. You don’t know anything, do you? "Naigel, come on! You always hit me. That’s not fair" he called out, his voice gentle but laced with concern. “That’s the Silverstone Pack’s alpha. How do you not recognize him?” He chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're even paying attention." "I thought he never left the North..." Before the conversation could go any further, the commander stepped forwa
“And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’re right. I’m just a thief. But I do it to survive. To cater for Jack.” Her words sank into him like stone. Cove stepped forward, slow. Measured and Careful. “You know, people fear what they don’t understand,” he said. “You are an outsider. I think that’s pretty normal. And you’re stubborn.” She scoffed bitterly. “Yeah, well. That didn’t get me far, did it?” He sat down on the grass, a few feet away. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to see her clearly in the fading light. They sat in silence, the weight of it not entirely uncomfortable. For a second, the world narrowed to just this: two people who had no business understanding each other—yet somehow, did. Cove studied her face. The bruises under her eyes. The way her lips trembled. She looked like she was falling apart. And it shook him— and deep in his heart for some reason he knew how much he wanted to stop it. He surprised himself by asking, “Do you want to talk about h
He was shirtless, his body still sweaty from the intense training he was having. His developed muscles flexed, but he welcomed the ache. It kept his mind from wandering, or thinking about the problems he had. Life as an alpha isn't all that easy you know. Being in his garden wasn’t the usual thing for him. But he did not come here to take a walk. The garden was her place—it was quiet. Something about the silence gave him peace of mind. And he needed to clear his mind. Training had been his escape, his way of silencing the chaos swirling in his thoughts, and he didn’t want to do it at the training ground. He wanted to be away from everyone else, away from the drama. Then he heard it. A soft fragile sound that he knew was unusual. It didn't belong to the winds or the trees. It was a sobbing sound. Someone was sobbing. And he wondered who it was. He slowed his steps, brow furrowing as he followed the sound. And there; behind the raspberry bushes was someone, curled in on herse
"About time," she drawled, crossing her arms. Oric walked in with a smug grin, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Had something to take care of,” he said with a shrug, as if that explanation should satisfy her. Morrigana raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, what’s this? Did you stop to pick flowers along the way?" Oric smirked, his usual confidence evident. "Spying requires a little finesse, Morrigana, not impatience," he said, his hands still tucked in his pockets. "But I suppose that's a concept only a sentinel could understand." He tilted his head, his face gleaming with mischievous content. Morrigana rolled her eyes. "Spare me the wisdom, Oric. Just tell me what you found before I die of curiosity." He studied her for a moment, as if debating whether to make her wait just to be annoying. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he relented. "She walks alone every now and then slipping away before dawn. This time she went deeper into the woods than usu
"The Silver stone Pack arrives in a few days," Alpha Cove said, his voice firm as he unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the contents quickly. "Alpha Damien is the Alpha of the Silver stone Pack and the Alpha is a strategic player. This isn’t just a simple meeting. This could shift the balance in our favor securing him as an ally standing with us against our enemies; if we handle it corre..." He paused, turning to look at Lucas, who was standing at the table, hands resting on its edge but with his mind clearly elsewhere. "Lucas! We need to be sharp," Cove continued, his tone unwavering. "We can’t afford any mistakes. I need you to coordinate the preparations. Make sure everything is in order before they arrive." Lucas nodded absently, not fully processing the words. His mind kept drifting back to Doyle and the lingering scent he had caught earlier, that faint trace of someone else. The nagging feeling refused to leave him. It clawed at the back of his thoughts, demanding attent
"You’re shaking," Cassian murmured, his fingers pressing possessively into Doyle’s thigh. Doyle let out a low, breathless chuckle. "You wear me out, you bastard." Cassian smirked, dragging his lips lower, down Doyle’s throat, his collarbone, over the sensitive spots still buzzing from their last round. Doyle arched into him, a whimper slipping free before Cassian pinned him down again. Cassian gripped him tighter, holding him down. "If Lucas catches us…" Doyle laughed, a dark, wicked sound, even as his breath hitched from the aftershocks of their encounter. "Relax." He ran his fingers through Cassian’s damp hair, tugging him into another deep, messy kiss. Cassian groaned into it, biting down on Doyle’s bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth. Doyle shuddered, moaning, but Cassian suddenly pulled away, eyes dark. "You’re playing a dangerous game," he whispered, his hand trailing up behind Doyle’s thigh, spanking his ass just enough to make him gasp again. Doyle licke
Lycia walked toward the trees behind the open field, intending to take her usual path to the hidden glade where she practiced her powers. The air was calm, the sky a soft shade of blue. But a prickle of unease ran down her spine. She felt eyes on her. Unseen but heavy, like a shadow clinging to her every step. Instead of following her usual route, she turned toward the town, blending into the winding streets, letting the hum of daily life swallow her presence. Perhaps it was paranoia. Or perhaps it was instinct. Then laughter. Light and full of joy, carried by the wind like a song. It made her stop. Something about it felt familiar, like a memory she couldn’t quite reach. Slowly, she turned, her steps drawn toward the sound, toward the warmth of something she didn’t know she had been looking for. The sounds were made by Cubs The cubs rolled and tumbled, their tiny claws kicking up dust. Between playful growls and nips, they muttered in hushed, excited tones. “You’re too slow!”