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
OLIVIA’S POVThe hospital room smelled of antiseptic and fresh cotton, the faint beep of the monitor steady as I sat up in the bed, my hands resting on the thin blanket, my body aching but alive. Five months had stretched since that night in the cavern, my belly now a gentle curve beneath the gown, the baby kicking soft against my ribs. Lucien stood by my side, his hand warm around mine, his dark eyes glistening with unshed tears, his thumb brushing my knuckles. Damien lingered near the door, his arms crossed, his jaw tight, the weight of the past days etched into his face. Alaric slouched in a chair, his boots propped on the frame, while Mara hovered near the window, her gaze soft but watchful.My chest tightened, my breath shallow as I looked between them, the words I’d held back for too long clawing their way up. I squeezed Lucien’s hand, my voice trembling but firm. “Damien, I need to say something.”He straightened, his hands dropping to his sides, his eyes meeting mine, steady
DAMIEN’S POVThe hospital’s waiting room buzzed with a low hum, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the tiled floor where I stood, my boots scuffing the edge of a chair. Olivia lay beyond the glass doors, her breathing steady now, the doctors’ voices a faint murmur as they worked. Lucien sat beside her bed, his hand wrapped around hers, his shoulders hunched, tears glistening on his cheeks as he stared at her pale face. My chest tightened, a sharp pang twisting through me, jealousy flaring hot as I watched him—his fear, his love, raw and unguarded. Alaric sprawled in a chair nearby, his knife tucked away, his head tilted back, eyes shut, while Mara perched close, her gaze flicking between Olivia and the door.I leaned against the wall, my arms crossed, my jacket creaking as I shifted, the weight of it all pressing down. Lucien’s return had shifted everything—cracked open a truth I’d dodged for months. Olivia’s heart belonged to him, always had, and I’d known it deep dow
LUCIEN’S POVThe cavern reeked of blood and ash, the air thick with the metallic tang of death as I knelt beside Olivia, my hands slick with her blood, her body limp against the cold stone. The Lunar Eclipse’s red glow faded overhead, the torchlight flickering weak across the carnage—bodies strewn everywhere, cultists torn apart, the original Alphas reduced to lifeless husks, Selene’s shattered form a pile of dust in the center. Natalie lay steps away, her chest still, her blood pooling dark under her, Olivia’s claws having ripped through her in that final, wild surge. My breath hitched, my fingers pressing against Olivia’s neck, her pulse faint but there, her mouth stained red, her eyes shut as she’d collapsed after screaming for her mother.Damien dropped beside me, his pistol clattering to the ground, his hands shaking as he gripped her shoulders, his voice raw. “Olivia, come on, wake up.” I pushed her hair back, my own hands trembling, her skin clammy under my touch, but she did
NATALIE’S POVThe cavern pulsed with a low hum, the air thick with the scent of iron and damp stone as I sat chained to the jagged wall, my wrists raw from the iron biting into my skin. The Lunar Eclipse bathed the chamber in a sickly red glow, the light seeping through cracks in the ceiling, casting twisted shadows across the cultists’ hooded figures. Olivia slumped beside me, her pregnant belly straining against her shirt, her face pale and slick with sweat as the ritual began. The cult’s leader, Vladimir, a gaunt man with sunken eyes and a silver blade—stood over her, his voice rising in a guttural chant, the words foreign and sharp, slicing through the stillness.My heart pounded, my chains rattling as I strained forward, watching them carve symbols into the stone floor around her, their knives glinting in the crimson light. A bowl sat between us, its edges crusted with old blood, and they dragged a claw across Olivia’s arm, her gasp echoing as red welled and dripped into it. Pain
DAMIEN’S POVThe pickup’s engine growled as I pulled into the cabin’s drive, the headlights sweeping across the gravel, cutting through the dusk’s heavy gray. Alaric slouched in the passenger seat, his boots propped on the dash, a half-empty beer can dangling from his fingers. We’d spent the day scouting the hills, chasing rumors of rogue wolves stirring trouble, but my mind kept drifting to Olivia—her pacing, her tears, the way she’d dodged my questions since Lucien showed up. The truck jolted to a stop, and I frowned, my gut twisting as her car came into view, parked crooked, the driver’s door hanging open.I climbed out, my boots crunching the gravel, the air cool and sharp against my skin. Groceries littered the ground—apples bruised and scattered, a milk jug leaking white into the dirt, a loaf of bread torn open by some critter. My pulse kicked up, my hands clenching as I scanned the yard, the cabin’s windows dark, the porch silent.“Olivia?” I called, my voice rough, bouncing of
OLIVIA’S POVThe cabin’s wooden floor groaned under my restless steps, my socks sliding as I paced the living room, the late afternoon sun slicing through the blinds in thin, golden bars. Lucien’s visit three days ago clung to me—his eyes shattering at the sight of my four-month belly, his voice low with apology, the way he’d turned and left with Mara shadowing him. My chest throbbed, a steady ache I couldn’t shake, and I paused by the window, my fingers brushing the frayed curtain, my breath fogging the glass in short, uneven bursts. Damien’s boots scuffed the kitchen floor behind me, his shadow stretching long, and I spun, pasting on a smile as he leaned against the counter, his brow creasing with that quiet worry he’d worn lately.“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft, hands buried in his jean pockets, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Been pacing like a caged wolf all day.”I nodded fast, my hand drifting to my stomach, the baby’s faint kick pressing against my palm. “Fine. Jus
LUCIEN’S POVSleep wrapped me tight, the familiar hum of the house in Pine Hollow lulling me deep, my body sunk into the mattress. Three months had passed since I’d come back—three months of road trips with Little Lucien, Dad’s gruff jokes, Mom’s warm meals, and I’d found a rhythm, a peace I hadn’t known in years. Nana’s stern face flickered in my dreams, Mara’s laugh too, and Olivia—always Olivia—her shadow lingering no matter how hard I tried to let it fade. Mom’s voice echoed too, soft but persistent, urging me to forgive her, to hear her out. I’d nodded, let the words settle, decided in my heart to let it go, but my boots hadn’t crossed back to New Orleans.A howl pierced the night—sharp, wild, yanking me awake. I bolted upright, my heart pounding, the sheets slipping to my waist. The sound cut through the stillness, a wolf’s cry I hadn’t heard since I’d left the pack behind. I swung my legs over the bed, the floor cold under my feet, and stumbled to the window, shoving the curtai
OLIVIA’S POVDust swirled around the truck’s tires as Dad pulled into the clearing, the engine rumbling to a stop. I squinted through the windshield, my stomach twisting as the familiar jagged pines of Blood Wagon Park loomed ahead, their shadows stretching long in the late morning light. My hands gripped the seat, the leather creaking under my fingers, a chill creeping up my spine. I knew this place—too well—and Aslaug lived here, her presence a thorn I’d dodged for months. The last time we’d spoken, her voice had dripped with venom, accusing me of chasing Ben, her Ben, despite me swearing I’d never tried. That call with him two months back—his sharp words, our friendship cracking—had been the end. I’d stopped reaching out, letting the silence grow, but stepping into her territory now felt like walking into a trap.I turned to Dad, my voice tight, my foot tapping the floorboard. “I don’t want to be here. Let’s get out of here, please. I’m not comfortable.”He killed the engine, his
DAMIEN’S POVThe bed jolted beneath me, Olivia’s scream slicing through the quiet night, her voice raw and jagged. I bolted upright, my heart slamming against my ribs, the sheets tangled around my legs as I reached for her. She thrashed, her eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading on her forehead, words spilling from her lips—guttural, strange, a jumble of sounds I couldn’t grasp. Her hands clawed at the air, nails digging into nothing, and I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently, my voice hoarse. “Olivia. Olivia, wake up.”Her eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing, black voids staring past me, her breath ragged. She shoved me off, scrambling for the nightstand, her fingers snatching a pen and a scrap of paper from the drawer. I froze, my hands hovering, as she hunched over, scribbling fast—sharp, jagged symbols, loops and slashes that meant nothing to me. “Olivia,” I said, louder now, leaning closer. “You okay? Talk to me.”She didn’t flinch, didn’t look up, her pen scratching louder, f