Emily Blackwood was born into a clandestine society of werewolves and found herself engaged to a mate she felt no affection for. Determined to break free from her pack's constraints, she made the bold decision to depart for a span of five years. Now, she has returned, resolute in her commitment to embrace her destined werewolf nature. However, destiny has its own agenda, intertwined with the ascent of a new pack leader, Orion Wolfhart. Possessing wealth, charm, and an unyielding demeanour, Orion demands unwavering obedience from the Trailblazers Pack. As his attention fixates on Emily, she finds herself thrust into a world of intricate politics, seduction, and violence, a realm she is ill-prepared to navigate alone. Emily's life hangs precariously in the balance, with adversaries emerging from every dark corner. Desperate for protection, she is compelled to rely on an enigmatic stranger who has seized control of her pack's throne. Yet, even in this perilous alliance, trust becomes a scarce commodity.
View MoreI try to recall how I felt when I penned the words by running my hands over the indentations on the page where they were written. Thoughts like "exhilarated" and "terrified" cross my mind, but no matter how hard I try, I can't relive that day.
That day marked a major change in my life. The day I opted to quit our group and lead a mortal existence for a period of five years as opposed to merely embracing the shift and turning fully into a werewolf
My old diary, which has been waiting for my return for the past five years, was placed back in the bedside drawer as the intercom gently announced breakfast. I'm not the same age I was when I left, which was seventeen. In that girl's bedroom, with its soft pink canopy bed drapes and dazzling white furniture, I'm a grown-up stranger.
You just returned from home, I tell myself. Allow some time.
I go to the vanity, where I spent countless hours as a teenager honing my eyeliner techniques and giving my face a Kardashian-like contour. Back then, before I learned about the Right of Accord, things were much easier. Despite the fact that I arrived in the middle of the night, Vivianne Dixon demands that her kids always look "acceptable" in her eyes. I quickly apply makeup and search through one of my wardrobe trunks for a silk floral peasant shirt and dark-wash jeans.
My parents had a dated "modern" mansion custom built for me in the late 1980s, years before I was even born. Our species—their species, till I make up my mind—live long enough to make a lot of poor fashion decisions. The white, oblong dining room, where mother and father have already finished their breakfast, is completely empty. Mother looks up from eating a helping of mixed fruits from one of the square white dishes that are arranged on the black Lucite dining table. Her grey hair is surrounded by a silver halo as the chilly morning light pours down from the octagonal skylight.
I wasn't expecting to see you this morning, darling. You didn't arrive until almost four, according to Hudson. She waits for me to sag so she can kiss the air next to my cheek without getting up from her seat. That top is fascinating.
"Thanks." I go around the table and give my father a half-hug while acting as though she really means it. I have already returned to my seat by the time he has finished his toast and wiped his mouth with his serviette. I spread my own linen serviette across my lap after shaking it out. I did arrive late.
Father says, "Well, it's a long flight from London," and that's probably all he'll say for the duration of breakfast.
Mom will make it up to you. In spite of the delay, how was your flight, exactly?
"It was good," My stomach is still upset from the salmon I ate on the aircraft, so I take a croissant and some fruit. It didn't agree with me. For the most part, I dozed off.
"Good. You won't be too jet-lagged for tonight if you do it.
"Mother—" She doesn't even turn to look at me as I start to butter the first half of the English muffin. She can act as if I haven't protested if she doesn't look at me.
Of course, we could have gotten you something appropriate to wear if your flight had arrived on schedule. She raises an eyebrow and briefly pouts her lips. "No problem. I asked Tara to send a few dresses over before she put on all of that weight.
Despite the fact that I haven't seen my sister in five years, I've seen plenty of pictures of her on F******k. She may have gained one dress size.
Absolutely inappropriate behaviour for Vivianne Dixon's daughter.
"Look, I just got in, and the ball is a lot—"
The question, "A lot of work?" My mother cuts me off. "Yes. It is. It is what makes it a duty. Additionally, it's the ideal time to introduce a new member to the pack. To demonstrate to them that your brief, wandering existence is now complete.
I haven't... I intervened. I've only been with my parents for a few minutes, and now my mom is driving me crazy. I'm not going to start a fight on my first morning back.
She waves her hand and says, "You haven't had time to unpack or do anything with your hair."
I hesitantly touch my blonde hair that has just been straightened.
She continues, "I've scheduled JoOrion for two hours with you today." There isn't enough time to repair those highlights, but I'm confident he can create something.
She makes oblique signals at my trouble spots while I clench my fists beneath the table. Which is everything I am to her.
"Listen…" I make a hesitant start. Making myself sound argumentative will not help. " I am aware of how important the ball is and how much time has been spent getting ready for it. I don't want to bring you all down or hurt your reputation.
Father calmly responds, "Nonsense, puppy," while looking at his iPad in the same manner that dad used to look away from us to read the newspaper. You could never harm our reputation.
Mother chokes on her coffee while pretending to chuckle softly and jestingly. "Well. That one tiny little moment was there.
I used this opportunity to assert my right to independent thought and refuse to accept change as my fate. The first time I ventured to put my name before Dixon's
"But all of that is in the past. You've arrived at your house. The cautionary smile of the mother, Ashton, has been asking about you, too.
Despite the superior salmon, something else makes my stomach turn. "Oh?"
She continues, a sigh in her voice, "He's never given up on you." Very romantic, in my opinion.
Or pitiful, if she had asked me—which she did not. I don't tell anyone. The prospect of going back to my previous life and fate, even though it has been delayed by five years, is not particularly romantic. I believed that by refusing the metamorphosis, I was also rejecting Ashton Daniels.
I had anticipated that he would have a partner by now. Hoped. I hoped he had a partner by this point. However, if he didn't
"No. Even after your brief rage, he has never given up his claim to you.
"It wasn't a temper tantrum, it was—" I control my groan of exasperation, stop myself, and attempt another grin. I only wished he hadn't been hanging around for me and had instead gone on and found happiness.
That guilt, I think, is something you'll just have to put up with. The implication in my mother's statements is that I shouldn't just feel awful about upsetting my ex-finance. It's possible that he has pardoned you.
Father adds helpfully, "And it's conceivable he hasn't, and he'll reveal that tonight, in front of everyone.
Mama nods. You'll have to cross this bridge when we get there, Emily. The poor man was publicly humiliated by you.
At the time, I felt awful about asserting his rights because he was a poor youngster. He may have, however. If he truly wanted to be with me, he could have exercised his right to come.
Fortunately, he didn't.
And I'm willing to take that if he chooses to publicly reject me in retaliation tonight. Furthermore, the least he can do for us both is to call off our engagement.
My mother assures me that "he wouldn't dare." The importance of the fealty rite prohibits risking creating a stir.
One more caution. I'm not supposed to screw anything up tonight for her. In front of the others, I had already shattered her carefully constructed reputation.
Before I left for London, Mother and Father engaged thrall Hudson to be our butler. He enters dragging a cart with two trays on it that are covered in silver domes.
The idea that werewolves can't handle silver is untrue.
I don't want to be thankful or relieved that Orion has released me from my commitment to Ashton. In fact, I don't want to feel either of those things. I don't want to feel anything other than anger toward the guy who is going to send my sisters away, ruin their lives, and possibly ruin my life when he eventually gets around to punishing my father. I don't want to feel anything other than anger.The name is "Thomas Dixon." Orion 's voice suddenly takes on an oddly cordial quality that makes me hesitant to trust him. "You have been convicted of treason," the judge said. Nevertheless, you came to my rescue and demonstrated that you were a trustworthy ally in the early days of my reign. I can't help but wonder what I could have done wrong to make you lose faith in me."Your Majesty—" "Your Majesty—" Father begins, but it quickly becomes clear that he is at a loss for further comment. He simply shrugs his shoulders in response. "I've made an error of judgment. Would you kindly refrain fro
Orion fails to contact me for a week.My mating ceremony preparations have reached crisis proportions. Mother, Clare, and Cynthia are concerned about the morning-after party. Everything from the guest list to the centerpieces must be flawless in order to remove the stain of What I Did.I do my best to engage, if only to maintain the illusion that I'll be married Ashton.His threats continue to haunt me. Nightmares of desperately attempting to flee him only to be dragged back to the pack kicking and screaming have me waking up in a cold sweat every night. People are noting that I am constantly weary and on edge."The bags under your eyes," Mother remarks one night at dinner, making a low tutting noise instead of finishing the phrase."I haven't been sleeping very well." Because of you and what Father consented to. Because of the pack and because I'm a prisoner.“Ma’am?” Hudson enters the dining room, followed by two thrall soldiers wearing Kevlar vests with the royal seal embroidered o
It's only one meal. As I approach the restaurant's doors, I remind myself, "Just one." But I'm not sure whether this is the last time I'll have to sit across from Ashton and pretend to be his willing little wifey. Nathan will, without a doubt, keep his commitment to negate Ashton's claim against me. I simply don't know when. Lupercalia isn't for another two weeks. Furthermore, I haven't heard from the king since the night we nearly... I try not to worry about it as the maître d' guides me through the dimly lighted main floor to a round ivory leather seat. Ashton stands there, his coppery hair combed back and brushing against the collar of his pricey suit jacket. He smiles broadly, takes my hands, and kisses my cheek. "I almost gave up hope on you." I really want you would. To avoid speaking it, I physically bite my tongue. "I apologize. On the way here, I got twisted around." As we settle into our seats, he frowns. "You drove it yourself?" "Mmhm," I confirm with a closed-lip smile
As I rush to Aconitum Hall, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm not sure if Nathan will be there or if I'll even be able to see him. But he's the king; I don't have his personal cell phone number or anything.Then maybe you shouldn't show up at his place unexpectedly. My rational mind is correct, but my panic brain wins. I'm not going to his place to confess my feelings or beg him to be my boyfriend. He's the pack leader, I'm his subject, and I'm in need of assistance.At the main entrance, there's a gatehouse manned by a thrall who looks up from her book with a dubious expression as I approach. Before she opens the window, she reaches for her hip to deactivate the safety on the revolver in her holster.Aside from hunting, I've never seen a real gun in person. That makes me wish I had given my actions more thought before rushing over here."Name and purpose of visit." Her voice does not rise towards the end. It's not a question, but rather a warning that I shouldn't be here unless I ha
Cynthia enters my room and chirps into the intercom saying she's on her way. We never had to share space as kids, but we were all in the same hall, which father referred to as "the girls' wing." Cynthia and Carole's bedrooms are still there, however they've been redecorated slightly to remove fairy lights and school medals.My door creaks open, and I sit up in bed, tossing my book aside. “Hey.”"Hey," she replies, sighing heavily and swaying on her heels, her hands in the back pockets of her trousers."That bad, huh?" As I throw my legs over the side of the bed, I try to chuckle, but the mood in the room is somewhere between "right before you find out grandma died" and "the sex talk with your parents."Neither have I; our grandparents are all still alive and likely have another hundred years to live, and Mother has probably never even mentioned the term "sex" out loud."You can sit down," I offer with a sigh. "Stop acting like you're here to break bad news.""I thought everything abou
The Blackwoods' family motto could easily be "if it's uncomfortable, ignore it."My meal with Orion last week is currently causing my family the most distress, and their refusal to speak to me about it is such a blessing that I virtually glow on the way to brunch and my ceremonial dress fitting.My emotions and mind are still at odds. While I desperately want to believe Orion can break us up, it's not as simple as "I'm king, I can do whatever I want." He'll face the wrath of the pack as well as a nightmare of red tape. No way are Ashton and his family going to allow someone walk all over them like that.And I've never met Orion. There's no guarantee that what he says is true. Maybe he's that enticing and seductive to every woman he encounters. There could be any number of prospective mates in the pack that he's contemplating; there's no reason to think otherwise, especially given the rumors that he's in love with the former queen.Still, if he's serious, the termination of the mating
He then drops the bombshell, "I hope you like venison."I stumble into the dining room, where a huge table for two has been set up at one end."It's very fresh," he continues. "I went out and hunted it myself during the full moon."I'm stuck on his previous statement. "You actually did it?""Well, you know what I mean. During the full moon, the only things to do are fuck, fight, or hunt." He pulls a chair out for me, and I sit down obediently."I'm not talking about the deer!" said the speaker. I lean in closer him as he sits, and for some reason, I lower my voice, as if we're about to be overheard. "Did you use the Right of Accord?" "Does your pack have the Right of Accord?"He nods and raises his hand, signaling the staff to begin the first course. Orion elaborates while the thralls pour bowls of pale cream soup in front of us. "All packs follow the same law, which Lycaon the Younger gave us." Wasn't that taught in school?"My head shakes. "I assumed pack law was just the law of our
The night of the ball, every light in Aconitum Hall was lit. Tonight, it’s mostly dark. It’s not as inviting; the towers loom sinister and mediaeval over the city, blotting out the sky rather than polluting it with added light.I take a deep breath as I step out of my car. Mother and Father refused to let me take the driver and I’m not sure where one parks at a royal palace. My shoes crunch on the gravel of the small parking area beyond the front porte cochere. I head in that direction, my heart beating in an unfamiliar and worrying pattern. The door opens at the top of the steps, and I expect to see a thrall butler there. But it’s Orion.Orion just opened his front door. Like he’s a person and not a king. I freeze in place. He does, too. It’s a strange moment; before, the undeniable attraction between us was insulated by the presence of others and the etiquette demanded by our society. It felt like if only we were alone, nothing would hold him back. Now, it appears we are alone, and
This can't possibly be taking place.I force myself to get up and grab the note out of Mother's grasp. "You looked through my purse, didn't you?""What do you think you're doing?" is a rhetorical question. She makes a hissing sound as if my inquiry does not exist. "You have agreed to a sexual contract. You can't be talking to someone else behind the back of your fiance!"I'm not seeing anyone. I have no doubt that you pursued it. It is an open offer to compensate for—""It is an open invitation to spread rumours. to disgrace and destitution" She pulls the card away from him and rips it in half, then again in half, and finally she throws the fragments of the card onto the carpet. "For how much longer has this been occurring?""For how many more minutes has this been going on?" I am on the verge of arguing that I've only been home for a few days, but then I realise that, in the eyes of the rest of the pack, I may be a spy for Greater London. Perhaps she believes that I was beating the ki
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