ALARIC’S POVI stood in the middle of my room, shirtless, the cold air brushing against my skin, but I barely felt it. The full moon cast a pale glow over the vast room, it’s light illuminating the faint scars on my chest, each one a reminder of a past I could never escape. The champagne glass in my hand was nearly empty, the coolness of the crystal grounding me as I stared out of the massive window. The city lights flickered in the distance, a deceptive beauty that mocked the darkness within me.As the alcohol slid down my throat, bitter and sharp, my mind drifted—no, it was yanked—back to that night. The night that shattered everything. The house had been eerily silent when I returned, an unnatural stillness that made my wolf stir uneasily. The scent of blood hit me first—thick, metallic, suffocating. I remember how my steps faltered, my heart pounding in my chest as I pushed the door open.They were everywhere. My family. My brothers. My mother. My father. Their bodies lay sprawle
ARCHIMEDES’ POVThe dining room felt like a cold, hollow shell despite the flickering warmth of the chandelier above. Nana sat across from me, her trembling fingers clasping a handkerchief damp with tears. The quiet sobs that escaped her seemed to echo off the walls, amplifying the heaviness in the room.I couldn’t meet her gaze. Not when I was the reason behind her anguish. Not when I was the reason behind Lucien’s torment.The weight of my failure was suffocating, coiled tightly around my chest like a serpent. My fingers traced the edge of the wooden table absently as I stared at the untouched cup of coffee before Nana. It had long since gone cold, just like everything else I’d tried to nurture in my life.Nana sniffled loudly, breaking the suffocating silence. “He doesn’t deserve this,” she whispered, her voice raw and filled with anguish. “He never did, Archimedes.”Her words hit like daggers, each one lodging itself deeper into the fragile wall of denial I had built over the year
OLIVIA’S POVThe kitchen was silent except for the sound of my shallow breaths. My body remained sprawled on the cold granite countertop, damp with sweat and stained by what had just transpired. The stillness pressed against my chest, but I didn’t move. Not yet.Damon’s voice came from somewhere in the haze. “Damn it, Olivia…” he muttered under his breath, low and gravelly. His tone was laced with regret, his words spiraling into curses as he stepped away from me. “I… I didn’t mean to—”He was pacing now, his hands raking through his hair as though he could pull the guilt straight out of his skull. “I shouldn’t have done that… shouldn’t have let myself…” His voice trailed off into something barely audible. I stayed still, staring up at the ceiling. The chandelier above swayed faintly, the soft glow of its light casting intricate patterns that felt too delicate for the mess we had just created. Damon’s rambling felt like a distant echo, like waves breaking against a shore too far away
LUCIEN’S POVThe house was quiet now, a stark contrast to the storm that had raged moments ago. I leaned back in the chair by the window, my fingers gripping the armrests as I tried to steady my breathing. The fight with my father still echoed in my ears, his voice sharp and unyielding, mine breaking under the weight of years of anger and resentment. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms as the trembling in my lips refused to stop. The rage was there, bubbling just beneath the surface, but it was the despair that weighed me down.“Lucien.”Nana’s voice was soft, her presence grounding. She moved toward me, her frail frame exuding a strength I couldn’t quite understand. Her arms wrapped around me as she pressed her check to the top of my head.“You need to calm down, my child,” she whispered, her tone soothing. “Archimedes has left. He won’t trouble you for now.”I felt the tension in my shoulders ease under her embrace. Her hands ran gently along my back, and for a moment,
BEN’S POVI set my phone facedown on the nightstand, Olivia’s name still flickering in my thoughts. The call had been quick, my response hurried and dismissive, but her voice had lingered. There was something in the way she said my name—something unsteady, like she was holding herself together by the thinnest thread.But she was with Damon. Damon could handle it, right? He always has a way of solving problems right, I mean he could be a bit responsible like Lucien and help pull her out of her head when it gets too noisy. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was really okay.“Ben,” Aslaug’s voice was a soft growl, pulling me back into the moment. Her arms slipped around my waist, her fingers splaying across my bare chest as she pressed herself against my back. “Where did you just go?” “I’m here,” I said, though my tone lacked conviction. She moved around me, her long, crimson hair cascading over one shoulder as she tilted her head to study me. Her eyes—those piercing green eyes t
DAMON’S POV The scent of her still lingered on my skin—wild lavender with a hint of something sweeter, something uniquely Olivia. It clung to me as I stood in the bathroom, watching the steam from the shower fog the mirror. I could still hear her soft, breathless moans echoing in my mind, the way her body had melted into mine without hesitation, the rawness of it all. What had gotten into her tonight? Olivia was always so restrained, so guarded. But tonight, she’d let everything go, given herself to me so completely it almost felt like she was someone else. I let the water run cold before stepping under the spray, hoping it would clear my head. My thoughts turned darker as I replayed every detail of our time together. I hated myself for it, but the mate bond had always been my greatest weapon with her. I knew how to use it to reel her in, to make her need me even when I wasn’t sure if she wanted me.And yet, tonight felt different. It wasn’t just about the bond. Her moans—sharp, ga
OLIVIA’S POVI woke up to the soft light of the morning creeping into the room. For a second, I thought I had dreamed everything. The heated exchange of passion with Damon, the confusion, the silent tension that followed—it all felt like fragments of an overactive imagination. But as I stirred, the soreness in my limbs and the lingering scent of him on my clothes from last night made it clear that it had all been real.Last night had been intense. One moment, I was a tangled mess of desire in his arms, the next, I was left alone in a bed too big and too cold. He’d retreated, and I’d been too proud to chase after him. Rolling out of bed, I padded over to the window and looked outside. The sun was high, its warmth doing little to thaw the unease in my chest. Something felt off about the morning. There was no noise coming from downstairs—no clatter of plates, no faint hum of the housekeeper tidying up. I slipped into a loose sweater and headed downstairs, half-expecting to find the ho
LUCIEN’S POVThe dream started like a storm, pulling me into chaos before I could orient myself. The sky above was blood red, swirling with angry clouds that crackled with lightning. I stood in a dense forest, the air thick with the stench of blood and fur.Growls and snarls echoed all around me. Shadows moved in the trees—werewolves, dozens of them, their glowing yellow eyes locked on me. My body tensed, instincts flaring as I realized I wasn’t alone in this fight. Damon stood a few feet away, his posture rigid, his eyes burning with the same determination that fueled mine. He didn’t look at me, but the subtle nod he gave said enough—we had a common enemy. Then I saw her. Olivia. She was lying unconscious in the arms of a hooded figure, her body limp, her head lolling to the side as they carried her away into the depths of the forest.“Olivia!” I screamed, my voice ripping through the air.Her captor didn’t stop, didn’t even flinch, as if my voice meant nothing.The pack of wolve
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