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 garden was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the wind teasing the leaves. It should’ve been a peaceful place, a sanctuary from the chaos of the last few days, but tonight it felt heavy, like the weight of the world had settled here with me. I sat on the cold stone bench, head buried between my knees, arms wrapped tightly around myself. The crisp night air bit at my skin, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were louder than the wind, circling endlessly as I tried to make sense of the mess I was in.What would my mother say if she was here?She would’ve known what to do. She always did. But now, all I had were memories of her voice, faint whispers of advice that felt so far out of reach.The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel path pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t bother looking up, too tired to care who it was.“Figured I’d find you here.”That voice.I lifted my head slowly, my swollen eyes meeting the familiar grin of Ben. He stood a few steps away,
Olivia’s POVThe sound of Ben’s footsteps fading into the distance was oddly comforting and yet so terribly isolating. I stayed rooted to the garden bench, the night air clinging to my skin like a damp shroud. The solitude stretched on, but the house loomed behind me, its dark window an unspoken reminder that I couldn’t avoid what was waiting inside forever.With a heavy sigh, I pushed myself up and trudged toward the house. Every step felt like dragging a weight behind me. The warm glow of the chandelier in the foyer was deceptive, masking the chill that always seemed to hang in the air when I stepped inside. As soon as I closed the door behind me, her voice cut through the silence like a dagger.“Where the hell have you been?”I didn’t need to look to know it was her—Claire, my stepmother. Her voice carried that same venom it always did, sharp and cutting, as if each word was chosen to wound.“I was just outside,” I said evenly, forcing myself to meet her gaze. She stood at the bas
Olivia’s POVThe whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache in my chest. I set the glass down harder than intended, the sharp clink of glass on wood drawing the bartender’s wary eyes. I didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them whisper. Let them judge. What was left of my dignity had already crumbled under the weight of tonight. And yeah with the presence of my two mates watching at me from behind I guess I have no dignity at all. The low hum of the club’s music throbbed in the background, but it did little to drown out my thoughts. My father’s words, his cold dismissal, echoed louder than any baseline. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to or maybe I still had one last person to turn to—Ben. Ben’s number was still pulled up on my phone, but I hadn’t really pressed call again. What would I even say? Is it for him to hurry and come over to save me from the show of you owns me between these two Alphas behind me? Cause I can already smell the rift. The
Olivia’s POVThe morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, slashing across the dark walls of Damon’s apartment. I sat on the edge of the bed, my head resting in my hands as I tried to untangle the chaos in my mind. The events of the night before replayed like a broken record: the rain, the bar, Damon and Lucien fighting, and, of course, my father’s cold, cruel words. No matter how I looked at it, one thing was clear—I wasn’t wanted. Not by my father, not by the people of New Orleans, and maybe not even by the two men who called themselves my mates. A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I said, my voice hoarse.The door creaked open, and Damon stepped inside, holding a tray with a plate of eggs, toast, and a mug of coffee. It was such an unexpected sight that I almost laughed. Almost. “Didn’t take you for the breakfast-in-bed type,” I said, forcing my voice to sound lighter than I felt. He set the tray down on the small table near the window, his expr
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