Jessica stretched lazily, letting out a yawn as she placed her phone down. “Matilda, darling, let’s have a late breakfast,” she said. “I am famished, and i missed breakfast as I was in a hurry to get here before my brother left for work.”Matilda smirked. “Of course. I always have time for family.” She picked up her keys, twirling them between her fingers. “Let’s take my car. I feel like driving today.”Jessica nodded approvingly as they stepped out. Matilda’s sleek black car sat waiting in the driveway, polished to perfection. She slipped into the driver’s seat effortlessly, revving the engine as Jessica settled in beside her.As they cruised down the road, they remained in comfortable silence. That was, until they passed a particular store. Matilda slowed the car, a twisted smile creeping onto her lips. “Look, Jessica,” she drawled, tilting her head towards the elegant storefront. “Daniella’s precious little dream. The place she thought would solidify her pathetic independence.”Jes
The atmosphere inside Joshhill stores had come back to normalcy, a stark contrast to the earlier chaos stirred by Matilda and Jessica. The store employees, though initially shaken, had resumed their tasks with quiet diligence, assisting customers with the precision and warmth that Daniella demanded of her staff. Business was thriving despite the uninvited spectacle from earlier, and for a brief moment, Daniella allowed herself to believe that the day could end without further incident.Then, the doors swung open, and a group of men entered, clad in stiff suits with badges pinned to their lapels. Their expressions were as rigid as their posture. The room quieted as the staff and customers turned to observe the newcomers. One of the senior staff members, noticing them first, exchanged a wary glance with another employee before stepping forward.“Can I help you?” the store manager Gregory asked, his voice measured.They produced an identification badge. “We’re from the State Quality Con
Daniella stormed through the grand entrance of Garvalle Enterprises, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floors. Heads turned, and hushed whispers rippled through the office as employees, both new and old, recognized her. She didn’t pause to acknowledge them. She had no time for pleasantries or awkward reunions. There was only one thing on her mind—Liam.Liam’s assistant, Anna, rose abruptly from her desk, eyes widening in alarm. “Miss Thornhill—”“Move,” Daniella ordered, not even breaking her stride.Anna hesitated, but before she could protest, Daniella had already pushed open the heavy mahogany doors to Liam’s office.The force of her entrance sent a stack of neatly arranged documents fluttering to the ground.Liam looked up, startled. For a fleeting moment, shock flickered in his piercing eyes, but it was gone just as quickly, masked by a slow, knowing smirk. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, exuding the infuriating arrogance that made Danie
The shrill ring of Daniella’s phone sliced through the quiet of her car as she drove back from Garvalle Enterprises, her hands tightened against the steering wheel. She barely glanced at the screen before answering."Dalton," she greeted, her voice taut.“Hey, just calling to remind you about tomorrow.” He kept his tone light, casual. “I hope you haven’t forgotten our date.”There was a brief pause, and Dalton sat up straighter.“I just got back from Liam’s office,” Daniella admitted, her voice carrying a tight edge. “I… I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.”Dalton felt the sharp prick of jealousy before he could suppress it. “Liam’s office?” He kept his tone neutral, but something in his voice must have given him away. “What were you doing there?”She knew that tone. Dalton was trying not to sound affected, but the jealousy was there, simmering just beneath the surface.She hesitated. She hadn’t even planned on telling him. Not because she wanted to keep it from him, but because
As soon as Daniella stormed out of his office, Liam stood frozen, his body rigid with an anger so volatile it clawed its way up his throat. The door slammed shut behind her, the force of it rattling the glass panel, but he barely registered the sound. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. His breathing was ragged, uneven, a battle between fury and restraint.Then, without warning, he exploded.A snarl tore from his throat as he swept an expensive glass paperweight off his shelf. It shattered against the wall, shards flying in every direction. The rage inside him was uncontrollable, a wildfire burning through his veins. His office—a pristine, commanding space—became a war zone in a matter of seconds. A lamp crashed to the floor, and books were yanked from their shelves and hurled across the room. His desk chair toppled over as he kicked it, sending it rolling into the corner.His security team, seasoned as they were, exchanged wary glances but made no move t
The grand hall of the Hollow Pack was adorned with towering silver candelabras, their flickering flames casting elongated shadows upon the polished marble floors. The scent of fresh roses, imported orchids, and ceremonial incense lingered in the air, mingling with the hushed conversations of the distinguished guests who had gathered for the long-awaited union of Liam Garvalle and Matilda Everstone.Alphas from allied packs sat in their designated places, their expressions varying from curiosity to cold calculation. The alliance between the Hollow pack and the Range pack was one of great strategic importance, and every leader present knew that this was more than a mere wedding—it was a binding contract of power and influence.Matilda stood at the threshold, her slender fingers gripping the arm of her father, Alpha Seth. She was the picture of grace, her sapphire-blue gown cascading down her form like flowing water, each intricate detail of the embroidery catching the candlelight. The d
The reception was grand, befitting the union of two powerful packs. The sprawling field had been transformed into a lavish banquet hall under the open sky, illuminated by golden lanterns that flickered like trapped fireflies. The scent of roasted meats, exotic spices, and freshly baked bread filled the air, while a live band played soft, elegant melodies in the corner, adding to the atmosphere of celebration. Tables were adorned with silk runners and golden cutlery, while an elaborate banquet of exquisitely selected meals lay spread across long serving tables. Uniformed ushers moved gracefully between the guests, ensuring that no one’s cup ran empty and that every plate was generously filled.However, despite the grandeur and wedding fever, the absence of Alpha Dalton had not gone unnoticed. “Strange that Alpha Dalton didn’t attend,” one of the older Alphas murmured, stroking his silver beard thoughtfully. “Liam and he were like brothers once. Their fathers built an alliance that mad
NEXT DAYThe dining hall of the Garvalle estate was bathed in the soft golden glow of the morning sun, its long mahogany table adorned with silverware and porcelain plates. The faint clinking of cutlery against fine china was the only sound disrupting the silence that hung over the room.Liam sat at the head of the table, his jaw tense, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. His mother, Mrs. Garvalle, sat primly on his right, dressed impeccably in a lavender silk dress, her every movement exuding quiet authority. On his left, Jessica, his sister, picked at a plate of berries, her expression smug.“So many dignitaries came,” Jessica mused, slicing into a fresh berry. “I heard Alpha Seth’s joke about tearing you apart if you hurt Matilda. It wasn’t funny, but I don’t think he meant it as a joke.”Liam barely reacted, staring at the steaming cup of coffee before him. He could still hear Seth’s words ringing in his ears, the warning layered beneath that dry humor. Something in his chest tightened
Alpha Czar sat in his high-backed leather chair, a sealed ivory envelope resting in his palm. His fingers traced the wax seal embossed with the sigil of the Riverdale Pack—a howling wolf curled beneath a crescent moon. The letter had arrived just before dawn, hand-delivered by a warrior.Curiosity had flickered in his chest when he first opened it. Now, as his eyes scanned the invitation again, something strange unfurled in his chest—something old and aching.Together with their families, Alpha Dalton of the Riverdale Pack and Daniella Thornhill cordially invite Alpha Czar of the Emerald Pack to celebrate their union in marriage. The ceremony will be held under the full moon on the 14th of August, at twilight, in the sacred glade of Riverdale. A reception will follow under the stars. Your presence would honor us.Czar read it twice. Then a third time. He had received a personal invite, out of respect and a longstanding alliance with Alpha Reid, Dalton’s father.As his eyes
FIVE YEARS AFTER HIS LOSSAlpha Czar stood at the edge of the valley with his hands clasped behind his back. The scent of pine and frost filled his lungs, but it brought no comfort—not tonight. Not after all this time.He had come here on the same night every year for the past five years. A ritual of sorts. A silent vigil in the hope that the wind would change, that the earth would stir and return what had been stolen from him.His mate. His daughter.The memory still struck him with sharp, unforgiving clarity. One moment he had held her in his arms, his tiny daughter wrapped in her mother’s scent, warm and cooing softly against his chest. The next, there had been chaos—blood everywhere, screams in the darkness, and an aching silence that had never truly left him.He had searched every region, crossed every territory, called in every favour he was owed. Elders, seers, witches—he had begged them all. But each trail ran cold. And now… he was done.“I can’t do this anymore,” Czar murmure
The first thing Daniella remembered was warmth.After weeks—perhaps months, she couldn’t be sure—of cold stone, rough rope, hunger, and fear so constant it felt like a part of her skin, the heat of the blanket around her was a shock. Her eyelids fluttered as light seeped through, soft and golden, nothing like the oppressive dimness of the place she’d been held. For a moment, she didn’t move. She was afraid that if she opened her eyes, the illusion would shatter and she would find herself back in that place again, chained to fear.But then came the sound of gentle voices—real voices, not threats or barked orders. The lilt of care, the rhythm of kindness. And something else… laughter. Childish, light, and echoing through walls that didn’t drip with damp or desperation.Daniella's eyes snapped open.She sat up too quickly, and her ribs protested with a sharp ache. The pain was grounding, almost reassuring. She was real. Alive.The room was simple, but clean and cozy. Pale cream walls, a
Elizabeth’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body slack against the cruel embrace of the experimental chair. Straps bit into her raw skin, long since chafed and torn, yet she no longer felt the pain. Her nerves had dulled, her senses numbed. She was more spirit than flesh now, drifting between worlds, untethered.Her head lolled to one side, dark strands of matted hair clinging to her sweat-soaked skin. Her once vibrant eyes, those fiery defiant eyes that had once shown with life and love, now stared at the ceiling—glassy, distant, the fight flickering out like the last glow of an oil lamp. There was no screaming anymore, no struggling. They had taken everything from her—her strength, her dignity, her voice.Yet within the silence, her mind slipped somewhere far from the sterile hell around her.She was eight again.The scent of wildflowers filled her nose, and golden sunlight poured through the trees of the glen behind her childhood home. Her mother laughed—a light, airy sound that
The cell was always cold.No matter how long Elizabeth stayed there—days, weeks, years perhaps—her bones never grew used to the damp chill that seemed to cling to her skin like a second layer. The air was thick with mildew and rot, and the stone walls wept with condensation. The silence, when it fell, was almost worse than the screams that came before.She heard the iron door screech open again, and her blood ran colder.“No,” she whispered, her body trembling already from the day before. “Please—please not again.”Heavy boots approached. A gloved hand reached down and grabbed her by the arm—an arm so bruised and battered it barely felt like her own anymore—and dragged her out. She cried out as her knees scraped the rough stone floor.The guards always ignored her pleas.Elizabeth was hauled into the chamber again—the room that smelled of blood, fire, and wet leather. Chains hung from the ceiling like spiders waiting to pounce. A rusted grate in the floor whispered of what had already
The cell door creaked open with a groan that echoed through the narrow corridor, the iron hinges protesting the movement. Arya stepped out, her heeled boots clicking sharply against the damp stone floor. Her posture was elegant, commanding—her chin tilted ever so slightly upwards in that familiar way that made her seem like royalty in a place that reeked of rot and fear.She turned to the guards, her lips curling into a tight smile.“Lock the cell,” she ordered coolly without glancing back. “I don’t want any accidents.”The guards nodded silently and pushed the thick iron door shut with a deep metallic clang. One of them turned the key with a rough twist, and the deadbolt snapped into place with finality. Arya stood still for a moment, watching them with feigned patience, her hands clasped lightly behind her back.“The trial is scheduled, correct?” Arya asked in a silk-smooth tone, as if she were inquiring about afternoon tea, not the brutal torment of another living being.“Yes, my
“Arya…” Elizabeth’s voice rang out, quiet but clear, halting Arya’s retreat.Arya stilled, her hand on the door’s iron handle. “What?”Elizabeth swallowed hard, her voice cracking beneath the weight of pain and disbelief. “Why?”Arya paused mid-step. Her fingers curled around the keys at her hip. She did not turn.“Why what?” Arya asked, her voice smooth and clipped, though it carried an edge.“Why go to such desperate measures to get rid of us?” Elizabeth’s voice trembled with hurt and confusion. “Do you hate us that much? Why pretend? Why go so far? Was all of it a lie?”Arya stood still, her back to the bars. For a moment, Elizabeth thought she might walk away, might ignore the question entirely. But then Arya turned slowly, her brown eyes glowing faintly in the dim torchlight.There was a sneer on her face, cruel and cold, but beneath it, Elizabeth saw something else—bitterness, long-nurtured pain, and something dangerously close to heartbreak.“You really want to know?” Arya aske
The damp chill of the underground cell gnawed through Elizabeth’s thin, torn tunic, and the stench of mold and decay lingered in the air like a curse that refused to be lifted.Chains rattled faintly with her every movement, and little Habibah lay curled in her mother’s lap, her breath warm against Elizabeth’s bruised skin. Elizabeth’s fingers ran slowly through her daughter’s tangled curls, each strand a small comfort against the storm of fear in her chest. For a brief, aching moment, there was silence. Suddenly, the silence broke. The sound of heavy boots echoed down the corridor—slow, deliberate, merciless. Elizabeth stiffened, her hand tightening around Habibah. The child whimpered.A cruel laugh drifted through the air, low and mocking, bouncing off the cold walls like a specter.“No,” Elizabeth whispered, eyes lifting toward the cell bars. “Please, not again.”The shadows moved, shaped themselves into a familiar figure. A woman stepped into the dim torchlight, flanked by three
Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, her back against the heavy, fortified wall of the secret chamber. “Will Papa really come back soon?” Habibah whispered for what felt like the tenth time, her voice barely a breath.Elizabeth gave a small, reassuring nod. “Your father said to stay put. He’ll come for us when it’s safe. We just have to trust him.”Habibah bit her lip, glancing nervously at the heavy steel door that kept them hidden from the chaos outside. The chamber had been built centuries ago as a refuge, and it was nearly impenetrable, soundproof, and sealed tight. Until—A sound broke the heavy silence — the soft, unmistakable creak of footsteps approaching.Elizabeth stiffened immediately. She pressed her hand gently to Habibah’s arm, signaling her to stay silent. Both of them leaned in, hearts pounding so hard it was almost deafening in their own ears.The door handle shifted, moving slightly.Habibah's breathing quickened, and Elizabeth gripped her hand tightl