Damon's Pov: I hate the rain, I thought as I glared out at the rain-soaked trees, droplets of water sliding down the window pane like tears. I turned away from the downpour seeking something to distract myself with, but the cloud outside seemed to have dampened my mind as memories came rushing down to me. Laughter, music, champagne toasts. The Wolvenstar family preferred to live within nature itself. Thus, we lived in a mansion on the outskirts of a forest. That way, whenever we shifted we could run straight into the forest, our real home. Today was the day my eldest brother, Mark, had bonded; he laughed loudly at the head of the table as his mate, Charlotte, now Wolvenstar, smiled timidly as she sat on his lap. Poor girl, my brother would be the death of her soon enough. The house was two hundred years old, a legacy built on sugar and spices; their family was one of the elite of the Werewolves in New Orleans high society; they were happy , everyone feasting, clinking glas
Olivia's Pov: Two months. I had been divorced and for the first time in ages, I felt young and I took full advantage of it, I spent my time clubbing at night and painting at my gallery by day transferring my feelings onto canvas including my recent one being that of a dark haired Lycan, a gash tearing across one of his eyes. Those were things that I didn't really had the time to do when I was with Lucien, he was an uptight guy who didn't really fancy the idea of his mate running around all over New Orleans. He was quite paranoid for a Lycan. I didn't really get him, sometimes he was a sweet guy, dolling me up with presents, taking me out to see a movie once in a while, you would think he was a nearly perfect husband, but then there were the other times. The times when he would lose control to his wolf, werewolves were supposed to control their wolves to their will, not the other way around, it wasn't exactly an easy thing to do, it had took me five years to take full control o
Olivia's pov: The bonding itself was about to begin, although the entire ceremony traditionally starts with a member of each of the nine aristocraté families blessing the Werewolf community for the coming days till the next ceremony.It was an ancient rite that had endured till now. That was the boring part though, the interesting part was about to begin as murmurs and whispers amongst the crowd grew louder. “I bet a hundred dollars Amelia Blackwater would bond with Diego Porter", Ben grinned. " Wait”, I laughed," people bet over this? “ " It raises the stakes “, he said. His face became serious." I bet you would bond tonight “. I rolled my eyes as he held my face in his hands. " The stakes are against you, darling," he said, smiling again, “but please don't make me lose a thousand dollars," he pleaded. “A thousand !", I exclaimed as I glared at him, “i can't believe you just threw away a thousand bucks, you idiot". He leaned back, breathing deeply as he wriggled his
OLIVIA’s POVThe air still buzzed with tension as I stumbled away from the podium. My chest heaved, my legs wobbly from the lingering effects of the wolfsbane. I barely registered the gasps and murmurs around me. All I could think about was them. Lucien.The Demon Alpha.I had bonded with two mates. Two powerful mates.My palms grew clammy, and I clutched at the nearest pillar for support. The weight of their gazes bore into me—Lucien’s a storm of rage and resentment, while the Demon Alpha’s was cold, calculated, and terrifying possessive.Before I could steady my breath, the Demon Alpha stepped forward. His towering frame sliced through the crowd like a blade, and his voice, smooth yet commanding, cut through the whispers. “She is mine.”The words echoed in the hall, silencing every conversation. My heart stopped. Lucien surged forward, his growl reverberating through the room. “No. She’s mine.”I flinched as the tension crackled between them. Their energy filled the space, suffoc
Olivia’s POV“We’re not alone,” the Demon Alpha said, his voice low and menacing. The shadows around us shifted, and my heart thudded in my chest. Lucien tensed beside me, his hand twitching like he was preparing to shift. The sharp scent of an unfamiliar cologne reached me just before a figure stepped into the clearing.My father.Alpha Aaron.Dressed in his usual pristine uniform, he carried the same cold authority that had always made me feel small. His steely gray eyes flicked from Lucien to the Demon Alpha before finally settling on me.“Olivia,” he drawled, his lips curling in disdain. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to disgrace this family further, but I see I underestimated you.”I froze under his gaze, his words striking like a whip.“Father,” I began, trying to steady my voice, “I didn’t—”“Didn’t what?” he interrupted sharply. “You think I don’t know? Two mates, Olivia Black? Two!” He spat the words out like they were poison. “You’ve gone from being a weak excuse o
Lucien’s POVIt was raining again, the kind of storm that felt alive, clawing at the walls and windows with an unrelenting fury. The sound of water hitting the earth was deafening, a reminder of the chaos that mirrored my life, a reminder of how far I’d fallen. Two months of storms—one inside me, the other out there. I watched the rain, my forehead pressed against the cold glass, as if the chill could numb the mess swirling in my head. The room was cold, but I didn’t light the fire. I welcomed the chill; it was better than the suffocating heat of my wolf “Zephyr”clawing at the edges of my mind. His growl was consistent now, low and menacing, a reminder that I was barely holding it together. The cold glass beneath my fingers felt grounding, but it did little to drown out the memories that surged like the relentless storm outside. I pressed my forehead to the glass, my breath fogging the surface, and tried to drown out the storm inside. But it was no use. Tonight, the memories were lo
Lucien’s POVThe room was quiet, but not the silence of peace—no, this was the kind of quiet that pressed against my skull, amplifying every thought, every memory. It was Olivia’s voice that haunted me, her laughter echoing through the cracks of my sanity. And then, the lingering image of him, Damon, standing too close to her, their bond shimmering like a blade poised to cut me out of her life completely.Zephyr stirred restlessly, his growl rumbling in the back of my mind. ‘Weak. We lost her because you were weak, you were a coward.’ His words clawed at me like a glass, sharp and unforgiving.“Shut up,” I snarled, pacing the length of my quarters.But Zephyr didn’t stop. ‘She doesn’t belong to you anymore. She never did. Look at yourself—pathetic. You can’t even control me, let alone her fate.’I grabbed the whiskey glass from the side table, its amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the edge. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror across the room, pale and gaunt, with
Damon’s POVMy study was a cavern of silence, the only light coming from the silver of moonlight creeping through the cracks of the heavy curtains. It cast eerie shapes on the walls, but I didn’t bother looking at them. I sat in my chair, back to the door, staring at nothing. The weight of the evening pressed against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. Olivia Black.Her name alone was a curse, ringing through my thoughts, unrelenting and cruel. Malakai, my wolf, had been uncharacteristically quiet all night, save for the occasional growl when her scent invaded my senses. It was maddening, this pull, this bond that I neither wanted nor asked for.I closed my eyes, leaning back in the chair as the memories of the mating ceremony replayed in my mind.I had walked into that hall expecting a dull, pointless event—just another show of wolves looking to secure alliances through a mate bond. But then I saw her. Olivia.She’d been standing by the far corner, her dark green dress flowing l
ALARIC’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,