Beta Marcus In one corner, a group huddles around a table, exchanging money for small packets of powder. Nearby, a woman with hollow eyes and track marks on her arms performs a listless dance for leering onlookers. The bar is crowded with men and women drowning their sorrows in cheap alcohol, their faces etched with the hard lines of difficult lives. Looking closer at the women scattered throughout the bar, I can see the telltale signs of abuse and exploitation. Their eyes are vacant, movements mechanical. Most, if not all, have likely been trafficked here against their will. Good. It means this place is run by exactly the kind of people I'm looking for. I approach the bar, shouldering past a pair of men engaged in a heated argument. The bartender, a burly man with a scarred face, eyes me warily as I lean against the sticky counter. "I'm looking for someone," I say, my voice low and purposeful. I drop a name, watching his reaction carefully. The bartender's eyes narrow. "No one b
Diana I step into the spacious closet, my fingers trailing over the soft fabrics of the clothes hanging neatly in rows. It's strange to think that these items are meant for me, chosen with care by Dominicus. The thought sends a flutter through my stomach as I select a comfortable pajama set – silky shorts and a matching camisole top. Returning to the bedroom, I freeze in my tracks. The enormous bed dominates the space, piled high with fluffy pillows and covered in luxurious sheets. It looks impossibly inviting, but as I stare at it, the reality of the situation crashes over me like a wave. We're going to be sharing a room. Sharing that bed. Me and Dominicus, together in this intimate space. My heart begins to race, and I can feel warmth creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. The enormity of what this means – what it could lead to – leaves me feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. Lost in my spiraling thoughts, I don't hear his approach until he's right behind me. His presence, so l
Diana Dominicus stands in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the light and making him look like he's been carved from living marble. My eyes trace the contours of his body, unable to look away. His torso is a work of art, all sculpted muscle and smooth skin. Every movement causes his muscles to flex and shift, a mesmerizing display of contained power. My gaze travels over his broad chest, down to the ridged plane of his stomach, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the towel. As if in a trance, I let my eyes roam back up, taking in every detail. The strength in his arms, the breadth of his shoulders, the column of his throat. When he reaches up to towel dry his hair, I watch in fascination as his muscles ripple with the motion. Letting the towel drop from his hair, he shakes his head slightly, sending water droplets flying. His damp hair falls around his shoulders in dark waves,
Diana When I wake up the next morning, I find myself alone in the large bed. The sheets beside me are cool, indicating Dominicus has been up for a while. Curiosity pulls me from the comfort of the bed, and I make my way downstairs. I find him in the kitchen, moving with easy grace as he prepares what looks like breakfast. The domestic scene before me makes my heart swell with warmth. Dominicus turns as I enter, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Good morning, Diana," he calls out, his voice warm and inviting. "Good morning," I reply, unable to keep the smile from my own face. He abandons whatever he was doing and comes towards me, something clutched in his hand. As he gets closer, I recognize the familiar shape and color of the purple flower he's been leaving for me. "For you," he says softly, holding out the delicate bloom. I take it, my fingers brushing against his as I do. The simple gesture feels different now, more intimate. Before, he would leave it by my bed, a
Diana Now, as I look at the elegant facade, I recall the information from the pamphlet Ellen had given me. This is a Michelin-starred restaurant, the best in all of Garnet City, boasting numerous awards and spectacular cuisine. I remember how the manager had taken one look at me and told me to go around back, only to promptly reject me. I hadn't even been allowed through the front door. But now... now I'm here as a patron. I can walk in with my head held high, no longer the pathetic little girl I was just a few months ago. As we enter, Dominicus's voice is smooth and authoritative as he addresses the maître d'. "Reservation for Amadeus," he says, and I watch in barely concealed amusement as the once stuck-up host nearly trips over himself in his haste to accommodate us. "Of course, sir, right this way," the host simpers, leading us to our table. "A waiter will be with you shortly." He takes an awed glance at me, clearly not recognizing the girl he once turned away. As we set
Beta Marcus My phone rings and I reach into my pocket and pull it out. It's been days since I dispatched the mercenaries to Garnet City, and I'm eager for news, my nerves frayed from the endless waiting. "Marcus speaking," I growl when I pick up, my voice rough with tension. The voice on the other end is tinged with excitement, "Sir, you're not going to believe this. We've struck gold." My grip on the phone tightens, "Go on," I command, barely able to contain my impatience. "Well, sir," the human mercenary begins, his tone cautious yet eager, "when you gave us just a name and a photo, I didn't think we'd have much luck. Garnet City might not be massive, but it's still got a few thousand residents. Finding one girl seemed like looking for a needle in a haystack." "Get to the point," I snap, impatience coloring my tone. He chuckles, a sound that grates on my already frayed nerves. "That's just it, sir. We didn't have to look at all. Your girl? She's something of a local celebrit
Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of violence and non-consensual acts. Beta Marcus The guard hesitates for a moment, shock evident on his face, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open slightly. But he knows better than to disobey a direct command from me. He nods curtly, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, and hurries off. The girl's face drains of all color, her skin turning ashen. Her eyes, previously wide with fear, now grow impossibly larger, the whites visible all around her irises. She begins to struggle in earnest now, her body twisting and writhing in my grip like a fish on a hook. Her pleas grow more desperate, her voice rising in pitch and volume. "Please, Beta Marcus! I beg you, forgive me! I meant no disrespect!" The words tumble out of her mouth in a frantic rush, each one laced with terror. But I'm deaf to her cries, my ears filled with the roaring of my own blood. In my mind, warped by rage, she has become Diana, and I will make her pay f
Diana The gentle rustle of pages fills the air as I lose myself in yet another book. Over the past few days, I've discovered a newfound love for reading, devouring the volumes Dominicus gifted me with an insatiable appetite for knowledge. Who would have thought that I, once barely literate, would find such joy in the written word? I twirl a delicate purple flower between my fingers, its sweet fragrance a reminder of this morning's gift. Without thinking, I break off its stem and tuck it behind my ear, the soft petals brushing against my skin. A contented smile plays on my lips as I snuggle deeper into the plush couch, reaching for the book I had started earlier: "The Comprehensive Guide to Werewolf History." As I leaf through to my bookmarked page, I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. There's something empowering about learning the history of my kind, about understanding where we come from. I settle in, ready to immerse myself in the past. The chapter begins with a discla
Diana “Ch-chasing you?” I stutter, my voice pitched in disbelief. “Yes,” Dominicus says smoothly, his calm tone doing nothing to settle my nerves. “Chase drills. To build speed, reflexes, and stamina.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple, but I know better. Nothing about training with Dominicus is ever simple. I groan audibly, muttering under my breath as I shift back into my wolf form. My muscles ache from the earlier sparring session, and now he wants me to race after his ridiculously fast wolf? Fantastic. Truly. “Do I get a head start?” I ask, clinging to a sliver of hope. “No,” he replies, his massive black wolf shifting into the clearing. Even in the dim light of the setting sun, his fur gleams, every movement exuding power and grace. His glowing blue eyes lock onto me, filled with challenge and something almost playful. I huff. “Figures.” “But,” he adds, his deep voice echoing through the mind-link, “I’ll lower my speed-ordinary Alpha level.” A flicker of relief
Diana“Training shall continue at 6 p.m,” Dominicus says, and I can’t help but groan. He gives me that signature no-nonsense look, the one that brooks no argument, and reminds me why we’re doing this.“You should be able to fight at night,” he says. “To use the cover of darkness to your advantage.”It’s logical, of course, but it doesn’t make it any less dreadful. I flop onto my back in human form, sprawled out on the grass like a fish out of water. My entire body feels like it’s been run over by a truck.The sound of footsteps draws closer, and before I can even think about protesting, I’m scooped up into the air. A squeak of surprise escapes me as Dominicus cradles me in his arms in a perfect princess-carry. I glance up at him, ready to grumble, but the warmth of his chest and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat immediately calm me. His strong arms hold me securely, and for a moment, I let myself relax, resting my head against him.“You did so good, dulcis,” he murmurs, his deep voic
DianaShifting feels as natural as breathing now—just a seamless fusion of woman and wolf. My body responds instantly, power surging through me as bones shift and reshape. Within seconds, I'm standing on four paws, my coppery-red fur rippling in the cool morning breeze.Across the field, Dominicus transforms. Despite having seen it several times now, the sight still leaves me breathless. His wolf form really is magnificent. But it's not just his size that's intimidating. I've always known that despite his massive bulk, he moves like a shadow. Silent. Lethal. But now, having him train me and experiencing it first hand, I understand that he is even stronger than anyone can imagine. By the time you hear him, it's already too late.And yet still, despite it all, I feel no fear or intimidation toward my mate. Instead, I’m filled with a sense of awe and fascination, my wolf humming with delight in the back of my mind. She always seems to push me to get closer to him, urging me to rub myself
Diana“And you’re improving,” he counters, holding out a hand to help me up.I hesitate, tempted to refuse out of sheer stubbornness. But my legs feel like they’re about to give out, so I begrudgingly take his hand. He pulls me to my feet with ease, and for a moment, his hand lingers in mine.“You’re doing well,” he says quietly, his voice softer now. “Better than I expected.”I blink at him, momentarily thrown. “Really?”“Really,” he confirms, releasing my hand. “But don’t let it go to your head. You still have a long way to go.”And just like that, the moment is gone. He steps back, his commanding demeanor snapping back into place. “Now, we’re moving on to climbing.”“Climbing?” I echo, my brows furrowing in confusion. “What are we climbing?”He gestures toward the edge of the field, where an enormous tree towers over the landscape. Its thick trunk is weathered with age, the bark gnarled and rough, and its branches stretch high into the sky. I stare at it, my stomach twisting with a
Diana The morning sun is merciless. It beats down on the field, and I’m already drenched in sweat. My tank top clings uncomfortably to my skin, and the loose cargo pants I’m wearing are starting to feel heavier with every step. I glance at Dominicus, who stands a few paces ahead, looking completely unaffected by the heat. Of course. Because why would my overpowered mate ever look anything less than perfect? “Again,” he commands, his deep voice steady and authoritative as his golden eyes watch my every move. I groan, bending over with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. My legs feel like jelly, and my heart is pounding so hard it might burst out of my chest. “You say ‘again’ like I didn’t just sprint halfway across the field and dodge every obstacle you threw at me.” “You didn’t dodge,” he says flatly, raising an eyebrow. “You tripped over the last hurdle and face-planted into the grass.” I glare at him, brushing a smear of dirt from my knee. “You know, a good tr
Alpha Magnus I had just opened the car door when the pain struck. Not physical—something deeper, something primal that splintered through my very soul. The tiny link between Diana and me, that fragile thread that had stubbornly persisted despite my rejection, suddenly snapped. My wolf's agonized howl tore through my mind as we both felt it—the exact moment they completed the mate bond. The sound was raw, feral, a haunting cry of loss that echoed through every fiber of my being. He knew. We both knew. Dominicus was claiming what should have been ours. I didn't even make it into the car. My legs gave out and I collapsed by the roadside, curling into myself as wave after wave of soul-crushing pain washed over me. I couldn't scream. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. All I could do was lie there, trembling like a broken thing as the reality of what was happening tore me apart. "No," The word barely made it past my lips, a hoarse whisper of denial. "No! How could you?!" It felt like so
Alpha MagnusThe room is silent except for my ragged breathing. Shards of wood and splintered furniture litter the floor, a testament to yet another fit of rage I couldn’t contain. My office, once the picture of authority and control, looks like the aftermath of a hurricane. Papers lie scattered, walls bear the scars of thrown objects, and the desk I’ve destroyed for the fifth time is a heap of splinters.The anger and frustration gnaw at me, unrelenting, a beast I can’t cage. Ever since the Council hearing… no, ever since she walked away with him, I’ve been like this. Unstable. Volatile. A shadow of the Alpha I once was.The pack feels it, of course. They’re on edge, walking on eggshells around me. The silence in the halls is deafening, broken only by hurried whispers and the occasional sound of someone fleeing my vicinity. I’ve heard it in their voices, seen it in their eyes—they’re afraid of what I’ve become. The mighty Alpha Magnus, reduced to this.The plan was simple: deal with
DianaI adjust the loose clothes Dominicus had me wear—perfect for movement, he’d said—and glance at him.He stands a few paces ahead, his eyes locked on mine, the seriousness in his gaze making my stomach tighten. There’s no teasing smirk or gentle humor in his expression today. This is all business.“Previously, you mastered how to control your strength,” he begins, his deep voice steady, filling the quiet field. “You’ve learned how to hold back so you don’t hurt yourself or others. That was step one.” He pauses, his gaze unwavering. “But now it’s time to move on.”I nod, swallowing hard. This is what I’ve been waiting for—what I need.Taking a slow step toward me, he continues,“you need to learn how to use your strength. Restraint is important, but strength without direction is useless. It can make you a liability—to yourself and others. Even an Alpha, no matter how strong, can be brought down by a weaker opponent if they have training and you don’t.”His words settle heavily in my
DominicusThe torch flickers again, casting long shadows across the cell. I turn my head slightly, my lips curling into a snarl.Marcus died too quickly. Too easily. I should have slowed it down, tortured him some more- I should have prolonged his suffering. I fucking went too easy on him!Rage wells up inside me, my eyes tinging blue as my wolf stirs, threatening to surface. My fists clench, and I force myself to breathe deeply, steadying the storm within.I lean back against the cells behind me. And wait.It isn’t until a full hour later that Billy’s episode subsides. The once-raging wolf now slumps limp against the cold, damp wall. His head hangs low, his breathing shallow but steady. For a moment, the only sounds in the prison are the faint drip of water in the distance and his labored breaths.I don’t say a word as I watch him. There’s no need. He needs this moment to gather himself, to pull whatever fragments of clarity he has left together. I remain where I am, leaning casuall