Having failed to secure a mate, Olivia black was forced to marry Lucien, the heir of Moonblood family who couldn't control his wolf. Fearing that he would never be able to control his wolf, he rejected her after three years out of fear that he would accidentally kill her. Left with no choice, she partakes in the year's bonding ceremony, and for the second time in history ; A wolf bonded two mates. Unfortunately for her, she found herself bonded to the worst mates possible . One is a half human adopted into a powerful pure blood family, the other is a feared Alpha who was rumored to have masscred his entire family. An Alpha and a Lycan. This was the beginning of her journey, a journey she couldn't even see how it would end.
Lihat lebih banyakALARIC’S POVI lingered in the shadows across from Lucien’s estate, the crisp night air biting at my skin. My breath fogged in front of me, curling upward like smoke as I watched her—Olivia—slip out the front door. She moved with that infuriating grace, her dark hair swaying with each step, oblivious to the eyes tracking her every motion. For months, I’d studied her, memorized her routines, her little quirks. The way she tilted her head when she laughed, the way her lips parted when she sighed. She belonged to my brother, Damien, and that gnawed at me like a splinter under my nail. I didn’t need her the way he did. No, this was want—raw, jagged, and relentless.The streetlamp flickered above her as she turned down the path, her boots scuffing against the gravel. She wasn’t driving tonight, which threw me off. I’d expected the hum of her engine, the excuse to trail her from a distance in my car. Instead, she walked, hands stuffed in her pockets, her figure shrinking as she moved towar
NATALIE’S POVI slumped against the cold stone wall, my wrists raw under the iron cuffs, the heavy chains clinking as I shifted. The air in the chamber stank of damp earth and rust, the flickering torchlight casting jagged shadows across the floor. My legs ached, bound at the ankles, the metal biting into my skin, and my body sagged, too weak to stand. Years—decades, maybe—had bled away in this pit, hidden deep in New Orleans, my strength siphoned, my life a fading ember. The cult had me, Vladimir’s brood, the Order of Selene, and they’d wrung me dry, my rare Thresh power feeding their goddess, keeping her alive while I withered.I tilted my head back, my matted hair sticking to my sweat-slicked neck, and stared at the ceiling, its cracks a map of my prison. I’d been the first alpha of the Thresh pack—female, fierce, a whisper among the nine aristocrat families. We were quiet, low-key, our wealth and influence tucked behind shadows, but our power was unmatched, a gift passed through o
ARCHIMEDES’ POVI sat at the edge of my desk, the evening shadows stretching long across the study, the flicker of the oil lamp casting a warm glow over the cluttered maps and journals. My fingers traced the rim of the whiskey glass, the amber liquid untouched, my mind too tangled to drink. A crumpled note lay beside it, delivered an hour ago by one of my scouts—Damien Fallenstar had stormed into Lucien’s mansion that morning, stayed till dusk, his face carved with urgency. They didn’t know why, couldn’t guess what dragged him there, but I felt it, a ripple in the web I’d spun many years ago, tugging at threads I thought I’d buried.I leaned back, the leather chair creaking under my weight, my graying hair catching the light as I rubbed my temples. Lucien—my son, not by blood but by bond—hadn’t crossed my path in too long, his life a storm I’d only glimpsed through whispers. Damien showing up there, unannounced, frantic—it gnawed at me, a puzzle I couldn’t leave unsolved. I knew Dam
OLIVIA’S POV I leaned against the bedroom doorframe, my arms crossed, watching Dad sip his water, his gray eyes softer than I’d seen in years. The afternoon light spilled through the window, dusting his salt-and-pepper hair with gold, and my chest warmed, a knot unraveling. We’d talked for hours—really talked—about Mom, about Claire, about the mess between us. He’d kicked Claire out, her affairs with Vladimir and half the council finally snapping his patience. More than that, he’d been hunting Mom all this time, years before I’d demanded it, chasing her shadow since the night she vanished from their bed. Relief washed through me, sharp and sweet—he hadn’t forgotten her, hadn’t stopped caring, despite the hate I’d thought he aimed at me. It wasn’t hate, he’d said, his voice cracking—it was her face in mine, her laugh in my laugh, tearing him open every time he looked at me. He’d thought she’d abandoned us, but now he saw it—something bigger, something hidden, had stolen her away. We’
DAMIEN’S POV I slumped onto the rooftop floor beside Lucien, my back against the railing, the cold concrete biting through my suit. The champagne glass dangled in my hand, half-empty, and I stared at it, the bubbles fizzing like the mess in my head. Lucien sprawled next to me, his shirt unbuttoned joggers wrinkles, looking just as wrecked. We’d spilled it all—me begging him to take Olivia, him shoving her back at me—and now we sat, two alphas stumped, no clue how to dodge the heartbreak we’d dump on her if we both bailed.“Refill,” I muttered, tipping my glass toward the bottle between us.Lucien snorted, grabbing it, sloshing more into his own glass first. “You’re a lightweight, Fallenstar. Already slurring?”“Fuck off,” I shot back, smirking as he poured mine, the liquid splashing over the rim. “You’re the one swaying.”He grinned, sloppy and wide, and took a swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell do we do, man? Can’t both ditch her—she’d be a damn joke. L
LUCIEN’S POV I stood at the kitchen counter, the early morning light spilling through the window, glinting off the coffee mug in my hand. The house was quiet, too quiet, the kind of stillness that pressed against my chest. Olivia was upstairs with her father, Alpha Aaron—had been since he showed up yesterday, his face carved with grief I knew too well. I’d caught their voices late last night, soft and strained, threading through walls. It warmed me, seeing her with him, the rift between them softening after years of jagged edges over Natalie’s disappearance. I’d known her ache for her mother since our marriage—three years of whispered hopes she’d let slip in the dark, her greatest wish a ghost I’d chased for her in secret. Every lead I’d followed—old pack trails, human towns, whispered rumors—crumbled to nothing, a void I couldn’t fill. I’d stopped years ago, convinced Natalie was dead, but I’d never told her, couldn’t bear to snuff out that flicker in her eyes.I sipped the coffee,
DAMIEN’S POVI gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening as the engine purred beneath me, the road stretching toward the burial ground. The black suit clung to me, sharp and tailored, the fabric cool against my skin despite the heat rising in my chest. My hair fell forward, one strand brushing my eye, and I left it there, a shield against the world I was about to face. Daiki’s voice rang in my ears from earlier, his broad hand on my shoulder, his tone urgent. “You don’t have to go, Master Damien. Pay your respects quiet—here, at home. They’ll tear you apart out there.”I’d shrugged him off, my jaw tight, and climbed into the car anyway. The Hales deserved more than silence. Thomas had dragged me from the woods at sixteen, blood-soaked and half-dead, my family’s slaughter still wet on my hands. Elena had stitched my wounds, fed me, their home a refuge when the packs turned their backs. I owed them this, even if it meant facing the fire. The clearing came into view, a somber c
AALPHA AARON’S POVI slumped in the worn leather chair of my study, the late afternoon sun bleeding through the cracked blinds, casting jagged stripes across the cluttered desk. Papers sprawled before me—maps marked with red Xs, scribbled notes, dead-end leads—all nine months of chasing shadows for Natalie. My fingers curled around the glass of bourbon, the amber liquid trembling as I lifted it to my lips, the burn a fleeting distraction from the ache gnawing at my chest. Olivia’s words echoed, sharp and unyielding: Find Mom, or we’re done. She didn’t know I’d been searching long before she demanded it, years stretching back to that night when my world splintered.The memory clawed its way up, vivid and cruel. Natalie and I had tucked Olivia into bed, her small frame curled under the quilt, her breaths evening out as I finished the last page of her favorite story—The Wolf and the Star. Natalie’s voice had softened the tale, her hand brushing Olivia’s hair, a quiet smile on her lips.
OLIVIA’S POVI sat on the edge of the bed, my legs tucked beneath me, watching Lucien’s chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. The late afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, painting his face in soft gold, the scratch marks I’d left on his cheek still stark against his pale skin. He slept now, his body limp, drained from the curse that had seized him hours ago. Zypher had roared through him, pinning me to the wall, his hands tight around my throat—not him, not really, just the beast Archimedes had forced into him. I’d clawed him back, my nails drawing blood, and he’d crumpled, the violence fading as he sank into this numb, paralyzed state. I pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around his shoulders, my fingers brushing his damp hair.I leaned down, pressing my lips to his forehead, the warmth of his skin grounding me. “You’re always in my heart,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, knowing he couldn’t hear. “This love—it’s not dying, not ever.” My chest tightened,
Olivia's Pov: I barely had time to brace for it before his fist nearly snapped my neck in two with a gut-wrenching blow as I fell hard to the ground, tears welling on my face. “You stupid bitch!", he yelled, his face contorted with rage. He was in one of his moods again, the occasional periods where his wolf starts to lose control and he tears up anything in his way, more than often, I'm usually the one in the way of his tantrums. My hands shook violently as the porcelain cup in my hands hit the ground, shattering to pieces in an echoing screech. At the sound, Lucien lunged for me, his foot stamping hard at my ribs knocking the air out of me. I gasped as I struggled to breathe, my small hands tightening around my chest, but he wasn't done. He grabbed me from the marble floor, throwing me on top of the dining table, his fists balled, eyebrows scrunched in seething anger. Each blow punctuated his lupine rage; he wasn't going to stop; he just kept hitting me across the face...
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