MasukAccused of murdering her father, Scarlett is forced into slavery and bought by Alpha Lycan Winter Drayonne, he strips her of rank and pride, reducing the daughter of an Alpha to the lowest Omega in his pack. Her new duty is to tend to his heavily pregnant Luna, his child in her belly, and him who now owns her body but will never touch her soul. Following the death of his mate at childbirth, Winter develops a possessive interest in her, dragging her from the shadows of servitude into the blistering heat of his gaze, deciding the only way to silence his ghosts is to tame her. He will make her kneel. He will make her crave. He will make her his, until the only name she remembers is the one he growls against her throat. Caught between an Alpha who would burn the world to possess her and a forbidden ember reigniting with River Kedalf, the silver-eyed Delta who still tastes her name like forbidden wine and would bleed the world dry to free her, Scarlett must decide: kneel as the Omega he craves… or ride with River to seek her revenge against the people that hurt her. In a court where love is a leash and desire draws blood, only the untamed survive.
Lihat lebih banyakThe candle in River’s cell had burned to a stub when he finally moved. Two months of rot, pain, and Jada’s desperate midnight visits had left him a shadow of the man he once was. His ribs still protested with every breath, his left arm hung useless and swollen, and the gashes across his torso pulled tight beneath fresh bandages. But the rage had kept him alive. The rage, and the memory of Scarlett’s face the last time he had seen her, silver hair falling forward, eyes wide with horror as they dragged him away.He had waited until the guard change at the third watch. Jada had loosened the pin in the cell door days ago. The lock gave with a soft, pathetic click and he slipped into the corridor like a ghost, barefoot, shirt torn and bloodstained, moving with the careful, pained shuffle of a man who refused to die.Every step was agony and every shadow made him flinch, but he kept moving. Up the narrow servant stairs, past the lower kitchens where the night staff slept, through the forgot
The thought sent a chill through Zoe that had nothing to do with the cold afternoon air. She had seen what Winter had done to River already. She had seen the gashes, the broken bones, the way the man had lay like something discarded. And yet River had agreed.He had agreed because the plan gave him something he had lost in the dungeon. Purpose. Revenge. A chance to reach Scarlett.Zoe closed her eyes for a moment, letting the weight of it settle.She had planned the route out of Dravonnia with River in hushed whispers. There was a horse waiting at the edge of the forest that would take them to the safe house in the hills where Dixon’s men would meet them after abandoning the carriage somewhere in the forest. But all this onl if River could reach the carriage with the boy in his arms.The carriage rocked faintly on its springs as another gust of wind swept across the outer yard, rattling the shutters and sending a fresh shiver of cold through the thin wooden walls. Zoe sat rigid in the
The first week of spring had arrived with deceptive gentleness. The snow that had blanketed Frostspire for months was retreating in slow, reluctant patches, melting first along the southern walls where the sun lingered longest, then creeping upward toward the towers until only the highest battlements still wore white caps. The thaw brought mud: thick, black, sucking at every boot and wheel that dared cross the outer yard. It brought noise too, carriages rumbling in endless procession, horses stamping and snorting, drivers shouting orders over the din, servants scurrying between the stables and the kitchens with armloads of hay and firewood. It brought people. Tens of them. Alphas and Betas from every corner of the North had answered Winter’s terse summons. Their banners snapped above the courtyard like war flags in peacetime: gray wolves on black, red stags on green, silver ravens on midnight blue, black bears on crimson. Carriages lined the yard in crooked rows that spilled beyond t
The morning of the first day of spring dawned cold and clear. The last patches of snow still clung to the northern faces of the towers, but the sun was strong enough to melt the ice on the battlements into steady drips that pattered onto the stone below. The sky was pale blue, almost painful in its brightness after months of gray. By mid-morning the great hall was already filling. Long tables had been pushed back against the walls to create an open floor. Braziers burned at regular intervals, throwing heat and light across the flagstones. Banners, Winter’s personal sigil only, hung from the rafters: black field, silver wolf head in profile, jaws parted but silent. No other pack colors were permitted inside.The invited lords and ladies entered in order of rank, cloaks shed at the door, weapons left with the guards outside. They moved in near silence, taking their places along the sides of the hall according to station. The older Alphas stood near the front, faces unreadable. The young
Winter had had his bath and was getting dressed when a knock came to his door. Before he could respond, the heavy oak swung inward without permission. Winter, with his back to the door, paused for only a heartbeat. His fingers stilled on the last clasp of his black tunic, shoulders rising once in a
“A name,” he repeated, almost to himself. “A word. A sound. And suddenly he is real. Suddenly he is mine.”August waited and Winter exhaled once, slow, controlled.“Snow.” he said almost immediately, the word falling from his lips like a stone into still water. A light chuckle followed, low, brief,
Skye stepped outside, the heavy oak door of the hall closing behind him with a dull thud that echoed in the crisp morning air. Far across the training grounds he could hear the familiar rhythm of Deltas at work, grunts of effort, sharp shouts of command, the metallic ring of practice swords clashin
Leander sat on the elevated platform like a king on parade, chin tilted high, cloak pooling around him as though the very stone bowed to his presence. He looked out over the gathered Deltas and Betas with the easy arrogance of someone who had never truly lost a war, only inherited one. He didn’t se












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