The air in the cavern, Conan’s hideout; was heavy with the scent of damp stone and burning torches. Raven sat at the end of the war table alone, her fingers brushing the edges of the map laid out before her. The symbols seemed to dance under the flickering light, their meanings almost close yet frustratingly difficult to grasp.Her mind replaying Conan’s annoying words: “You’d better hope you do. Because if you don’t, Raven; you’ll wish I’d abandoned you instead.”Raven stared at the ancient map in her hands, frustration bubbling up inside her. The wornout lines and strange symbols on the map seemed to mock her as if daring her to uncover their secrets. She hated riddles with a passion, and this one felt particularly cruel. Every twist and turn of the map carried the weight of life and death, one wrong move, and everything could fall apart. Her heart pounded as she realized the stakes. This wasn’t just a game or a puzzle; it was a test, and failure wasn’t an option. Her instincts told
The only sound in her chamber now was the faint crackling of the dying fire, and the silence was oppressive. Lycia sat slowly on the bed's edge, her mind churning with many ideas. As a reminder that she had once again been made to do something she didn't want to do, the food in her stomach churned awkwardly. She detested him for manipulating her will and giving the impression that she didn't own herself, unlike him. She detested the fear that was tearing at her chest more than anything else. The door creaked open once more, but this time it wasn’t the sound of a servant or a guard coming to give her food; it was him. This time, there was no food tray or any attempt to act polite. This time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t here to play along with her rules, tiptoe around the issue, or leave her wondering what he meant. He was here to take control and make everything crystal clear. His intentions were clear in the sharpness of his movements, as he walked in to the room, wi
With Cove's icy rejection still fresh in Morrigana’s memory, Morrigana was furious as she exited the big hall. She was angry because Cove was becoming more and more fixated with the so called thief, Lycia. His sudden obsession with the thief, Lycia, was growing by the day, and it made her more infuriated. She couldn’t understand what made this girl so special or why Cove seemed to be so reluctant to deal with her as he would any other intruder. She was baffled by the girl’s ability to stir something in Cove, something that made him hesitant, something that Morrigana had never seen before. It wasn’t just Lycia’s skill or her audacity; there was something about Lycia that had thrown Cove off balance, and Morrigana hated it. To her, Lycia was nothing but a distraction to her plans, a frightened thief. Yet somehow, she had managed to wedge herself into a place no one else had dared to occupy, one she has been trying to occupy for years.As she stalked through the dark hallways, her boots
The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, as if the air itself was charged. Lycia and Morrigana stood motionless, their eyes wide, each of them unsure of what would happen next. The sound of Cove's powerful voice thundered through the room, loud enough to cut through the noise around them, sharp and commanding. His gaze shifted quickly from Morrigana to Lycia, his face a mix of rage, confusion, and an emotion that almost seemed like he was worried. It was as though he was trying to understand what was going on, torn between his anger and the deeper concern he felt."What do you think you're doing, Morrigana?" Cove shouted, his tone was sharp and commanding as he marched toward her. His eyes locked onto Morrigana’s, burning with a mixture of fury and disbelief. The sight of Lycia, her face wet with tears, and the broken chains that was scattered on the floor only seemed to make him angrier. Instead of feeling sympathy or calming down, the scene only added fuel to the fire of h
Lycia sat on the cold stone floor of the dim room, her back pressed against the rough walls, her body trembling from exhaustion. Her muscles aching, and the bruises that Morrigana had left on her skin pulsed with pain, a constant reminder of the pain she had just endured. But the physical pain wasn’t what hurt the most. It was the emptiness she felt inside, the helplessness, and the overwhelming sense of failure. Her mind would not stop racing, pulling her back to the beginning. To the moments that led her here, locked away in this strange, dark world. How could she have been so blind? How could she have believed that this could work? Every lie, every betrayal, replayed in her mind, like a broken record that would not stop spinning.And then there was Morrigana, the one person responsible for the pain she was going through. Lycia’s breath broke as she thought about the bitter words, the cold eyes that had watched her, trapping her in this miserable place. Morrigana’s torture had bro
Raven’s voice had that same smooth, confident tone it always had, when she showed up at Lycia’s door that night. The moonlight outlined her figure, making her look as sharp and as imposing as ever. “Still living in this dump I see?" she sneered, her lips twisting into that smug, self-satisfied grin that made Lycia’s blood boil every time she saw it.Lycia’s breath caught in her throat, and her chest tightened as a wave of resentment started to build up inside of her. It was like a sharp, jagged pain, and it felt impossible for her to ignore. The anger and frustration that had built up, lingered just beneath the surface, threatening to break free. There she was, Raven. The woman who had once held her heart with such tender ease, only to crush it as if it had never mattered. Raven had always been like that; elegant, untouchable, and effortlessly in control, as if she moved in a world above Lycia’s understanding. Lycia had spent years trying to claw her way out of Raven’s dark and shado
And as Raven’s figure disappeared into the night, Lycia braced herself for what came next.They met the next night in an old, abandoned warehouse. The place smelled of rust and rot, and every step she took seemed to echo loudly, breaking the heavy, eerie stillness around her. A single bulb dangled from the ceiling, fluctuating, going on and off, and making the shadows on the cracked walls dance and shift. The atmosphere felt uneasy, as though the building itself held secrets of its own. Lycia stood by a worn out, unsteady table, carefully laying out the blueprints of Deveraux mansion. Her hands moved with surprising calmness, even though her mind was filled with lots doubt and worry.That morning, Jack had been in a much worse state. His coughs were sounding deeper and harsher, like they were coming from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his face was pale and tired, with dark circles under his eyes, a clear sign of exhaustion and sleepless nights.Lycia had stayed by his side for a
The room was dimly lit, with a single candle flickering on a nearby table, its unsteady glow created dancing shadows on the rough stone walls. Morrigana stood by the tall, arched window, her arms folded tightly across her chest, as if she was trying to contain the storm of emotions brewing inside of her. The moonlight filtered through the glass window, softly illuminating her sharp features, making her expression seem even colder.Outside, the pack’s territory stretched out before her, quiet and still, but it was a false sense of peace. The day had been full of chaos, and though everything now seemed calm, she knew it wouldn’t last. Something about that calm felt wrong, like the silence before a storm.Her fingers were tapping steadily against her arm, the sound soft but constant, a reflection of the storm that was raging in her mind. Thoughts twisted and turned, spiraling endlessly like a wheel she couldn’t stop. She hated this particular feeling, like this growing unease that clung
“Put your clothes back on,” he said coollyAlpha Cove’s eyes stayed on the paper, though he hadn’t written a single word in minutes. The ink had dried at the tip of his quill. Across the desk, Luna Anya remained gloriously nude, draped across his chair like temptation incarnate.His voice, when it finally came again, it was sharp ice.“You’re a Luna, Anya. A married werewoman with an Alpha husband. And yet you come to my office thinking of someone else other than Alpha Damien in between your thighs?.”Luna Anya blinked, caught off guard by the words from Alpha Cove’s mouth, and the shift in his tone.Cove stood, pushing the chair back. His gaze was no longer distracted—it was cutting.“Your infidelity disgusts me. You think being wrapped in silk and seduction excuses being a slut?”Her face twisted. “Excuse me?”“Yes, you heard me right,” Cove growled. “If you want to offer yourself like a whore, that’s your business. But not in my office. Not while pretending your union with Alpha Da
“She isn’t supposed to matter to me." Alpha Cove spoke quietly, just a bit louder than the fire burning behind him“She is just… a thief.”He said it like a mantra, like repeating it might magically rip her from his thoughts. But the truth laughed at him.He didn’t know if he was trying to convince or lie to himself. But neither seemed to work.He leaned back in his chair, his gaze didn’t stick to the paper he was writing on. It drifted, again, to the thought of someone he couldn't shake out of his mind.Lycia.Since her capture, he has always been drawn to her. And the fact she reminded him of Freya his lost lover, made his feelings for her strongerHe hated that he was drawn to her.And then there was Alpha Damien.The man oozed arrogance like cologne; strong, nauseating, and impossible to ignore. His voice still echoed in Cove’s mind like a bad song stuck on repeat: “I want her as my maid of honor while I’m here,”As if she were some party favor. As if she were nothing.Cove’s jaw
So later that night.The music had thinned. Laughter faded into tired murmurs. The feast was ending.Morrigana returned to the grand hall, slipping back beside Anya like she had never left.Damien, glazed with wine and slouched in his seat, barely noticed her return.But Anya did.Anya leaned over, murmuring something to the guards before brushing her lips close to Damien’s ear. “You’ve had enough wine for tonight, darling. Come. Let’s retire.”The guards moved to escort him. He didn’t protest, he never did when Anya used that voice.Before Anya could rise too, Morrigana gently caught her wrist with a gracious smile. “Forgive the interruption, Luna Anya,” Morrigana said smoothly, her tone laced with just enough sweetness to coat the malice underneath. “Alpha Cove asked for you. Said it’s urgent, southern wing, his study precisely. Something about... discussing some personal affairs.”She leaned in slightly, voice dropping like a secret shared between women.“Sounded rather... pri
Back to the lycan hall, Damien was still toasting in the name of gods no one believed in, making a mockery of the etiquette with every raised goblet in Cove’s estate.He lifted yet another drink, eyes lazily raking over the crowd—until they stopped. And saw her. Again. Lycia.She moved across the hall, a tray of goblets in her hands, serving guests with quiet poise. Her steps were graceful, almost regal. Too graceful for a servant.Damien’s gaze sharpened. A slow grin tugged at his lips. With naughty thoughts running through his head. “I want her as my maid of honor while I’m here,” he said, as if it were the most casual request in the world.Everyone on their table was a bit surprised by the request of Alpha Damien. I mean the request was quite unexpected. Cove’s voice sliced through the din, sharp and immediate. “That’s not happening Alpha Damien.”Damien’s goblet paused mid-air. His jaw clenched. He didn’t even glance at Lycia again. Morrigana, seated nearby, perked up like
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