LOGINRowan, 31
"Today is his son's wedding, Alpha. Can we just give him the decency of enjoying a father-of-the-groom day before taking him in for questioning?"
Aaron, my Beta and second-in-command, matched my long strides as we turned out of the elevator. I barely paid heed to his words.
"I don't have the decency to wait another hour, Aaron," I replied, the voidness in my voice absolute. It was the same hollow tone I had carried for thirteen years.
In two months, I would hit the thirteenth anniversary of losing my bride—the woman I loved, the woman I had failed to protect.
And Aaron was asking me to have mercy on a man who might hold the answers as to why the woman I loved and her family were slaughtered before my wedding even began?
Hell, no.
"Yes, Alpha," Aaron responded quietly.
The target was Marcus Thorne. To the outside world, and specifically to his Crimson Ridge Pack down in Oklahoma, Marcus was a wealthy philanthropist with deep pockets and high connections.
But beneath the polished veneer, I knew what he really was: a monster. A high-ranking associate of the Hunters.
His son had been living in Buston for the last few years, attending a human university, and was currently marrying a local girl.
I didn’t care about the son, and I certainly hadn't bothered to research the bride's family. The only man I wanted was Marcus.
"Twenty million dollars," Zaric scoffed, walking on my other side. Zaric was the youngest of the Vexley brothers, a prodigy with a smartwatch he currently had synced to the underground servers. "That's the bounty they just dropped on the Almighty Beast of Flames."
I clenched my jaw, a sharp surge of disappointment cutting through me. "Twenty million? They’ve made me look incredibly cheap."
Zaric chuckled, tapping a sequence into his watch. "Hey, give the Hunters some credit, brother. They might actually be low on liquid funds right now. Plus, they're desperate to eliminate you. They probably scraped together every last dime they're worth."
I said nothing, my eyes fixed on the ornate double doors of the reception hall at the end of the corridor.
"It means the agency must have notified her," Aaron noted, his tone turning serious. "Since you decided to purposefully reveal your face to that border camera yesterday, the hit is officially active."
"Exactly," Zaric added, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Now that the great Beast of Flames is revealed, the Hunters will be too terrified to react directly. But Viper? The assassin who supposedly slays the most powerful without breaking a sweat? She won't hold her blade just to make a point. I kind of want to meet her.
I ignored them both. My thoughts were consumed entirely by Marcus Thorne. My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides.
I had personally slain six men associated with that night thirteen years ago. Six men I had burned to ash, and not a single one had given me the vital information I craved before they died.
And now, Marcus was next.
We stepped into the massive reception hall just as the groomsmen were filing through a side door. My eyes immediately scanned the crowd for Thorne.
But the moment my presence registered, the room erupted into absolute, paralyzed chaos.
I might not be publicly known as the Beast of Flames, but every single person in this room knew the Supreme Alpha of Stormveil. They knew the Fire Lord of the Ashwing bloodline.
People gasped, stepping back to create a wide berth around us. Whispers tore through the room like wildfire.
They were shocked that the most powerful Alpha in the territory would grace a wedding for a family they believed had no connection to me.
Some even whispered that the groom's family must be secretly incredibly powerful.
Well, he drew me here, certainly he was.
Through the parting crowd, I spotted him.
Marcus Thorne was already making his way toward me, a sickening, stunned yet welcoming smile plastered across his face.
The old fool clearly hadn't gotten the memo. The Hunters hadn't connected the dots yet. They didn't realize that the man who had been burning their associates to ash in revenge for the slaughter thirteen years ago was the very Alpha standing in this room.
But before Marcus could take another step toward me, something painful hit me.
A sharp, violent fire tore through my chest, coupled with a thrilling, agonizing sensation of pure pleasure. It was so intense it nearly forced me to shift into my Phoenix and wolf forms right there in the middle of hundreds of people.
I stumbled at the sheer force of it. Hotness ignited deep in my bones, and my wolf released a guttural, frantic groan in the back of my mind.
“Mate!” my wolf roared, screaming the unspeakable word I hadn't felt since the night Alina died.
But how the hell was that possible? Alina was my mate, and she had died.
unless....could the moon goddess had blessed me with another mate?
it was a rare occurrence, but it wasn't impossible.
"Fuck!" I cursed under my breath, my hands gripping my knees as I tried to ground myself.
Aaron and Zaric instantly closed ranks, shielding me from the staring crowd, who respectfully remained five steps back, completely unaware of the supernatural fire burning through my veins.
"Are you okay, Alpha?" Aaron asked, his voice tight with concern.
I shoved him aside, my skin burning. "Attend to Thorne," I ordered coldly, burying the burning pain as hard as I could. "Tell them the wedding will not commence until I am comfortable."
I turned my back on them, completely ignoring Aaron's confused nod as I tracked the scent.
It was intoxicating. Sweet wood and jasmine, heavily laced with the metallic, undeniable tang of blood. It was an incredibly unusual, dominant scent for a female.
For a split second, given the strong, aggressive aura radiating from the bond, I would have thought the Moon Goddess had made a mistake and paired me with a male.
But then the side doors of the hall pushed open and the prettiest being ever walked in.
My wolf rattled violently against my ribs, daring me to close the distance, craving desperately to bury its nose in the scent.
My heart ached with the powerful, unspeakable pull drawing me toward the most beautiful red-haired woman I had ever seen.
I took her in. Her face, her lips, the delicate curve of her fingers gripping her phone. She wasn't even looking at the chaos her entrance—or my presence—had caused. Her eyes were glued to the screen in her hand.
She looked like she had just seen a ghost.
A guest, backing away from my guards, bumped into her shoulder. The force wasn't hard at all, but she was so profoundly stunned that the phone slipped from her fingers.
It hit the floor and she just stared down at the blank screen, looking utterly breathtaking yet entirely minimized by whatever had just shattered her reality.
My wolf shoved me forward. I was halfway to her when I paused mid-step, my eyes moving to her neck.
Sprawling up her throat was a bold, dark tattoo of a raven tangled in roses. But I didn't just see the ink. I recognized the placement and I fuck as hell recognized the shape beneath it.
A low, dark smirk played on my lips as I closed the final distance.
The perfect twist of fate. My little mate was the fierce, unknown assassin currently carrying a twenty-million-dollar bounty to kill me.
Now I knew exactly why she looked so completely stunned. She had possibly just received the picture and she had just realized the Beast of Flames she was hired to kill was the Supreme Alpha of Stormveil.
I walked over, crouching smoothly to pick up the phone from the carpet. I stood, holding it out to her, deciding in that split second exactly how I was going to play this. I was going to let her know instantly who she was dealing with.
She raised her head. Wow.
She had the most endearing, piercing hazel eyes that perfectly matched the brownish-red tone of her hair. They mirrored the earthy elegance of her simple, stunning dress.
I couldn't place it, but it just she just felt so familiar, like we've met before... but then again i knew we haven't.
i would never forget such a beauty if I had.
I felt her physically jump at how close we were.
"Mate," I rumbled, my voice low and absolute.
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Sorry, what?" she breathed.
Fuck. Her voice. They were like music to my ears.
I needed to get myself in order. The mate bond was already trying to make me look obsessed, twisting my grief into an immediate, ravenous hunger.
But I would play the card. I would play the game with her, and only because I knew she was out to kill me. And when I was bored, or when the Hunters were dealt with, I would discard her.
"Mate," I repeated, my tone hardening.
She snatched the phone from my hand, muttering something under her breath about me being crazy. She turned, attempting to walk away, but I didn't miss the look in her eyes before she moved.
It wasn't just shock. It was a hateful, venomous glare. It was a look of deep, profound loathing.
Does she hate me that much? But why?
"I'm no one's mate," she snapped, not looking back.
"Previously, yes," I countered smoothly, stepping into her path. "But not anymore."
She paused. The chaos in the hall had dialed down to a suffocating silence and seemingly everyone was watching us now. We weren't speaking loudly, but the entire room could sense the dangerous, pretentious respect radiating between us.
A low, menacing smile suddenly curved her lips.
She tilted her chin up, her hazel eyes locking onto mine with absolute defiance.
"Well then," she said, raising her voice so it carried clearly to the farthest corners of the room. "I reject you as my mate, Alpha."
The entire people in the hall gasped in shock, but my lips stretched into a look of genuine amusement—the first I’d felt in years.
Rowan povBy the sixth morning, I was leaning against the bedroom doorframe, watching Romy drag her thumb along the edge of the washstand.A thin line cut through the dust beneath her touch.The bruising on her neck had finally started to fade. The deep purple beneath her jaw was turning yellow around the edges, like an old bruise finally giving up the fight. The marks from my fangs were almost hidden under her hair now. She thought the bond was nothing more than a desperate measure to keep her alive, well that was exactly what I wanted her to believe.If she learned the truth too soon, she’d run. She’d climb over the orchard wall, disappear into the forest, and keep running until the poison finished what it had started.She thought I’d only bitten her to pull the silver from her body and keep her alive. That was the story I’d given her, and for now, it was the one she believed.Romy reached for the tin cup on the shelf, but her hand missed the handle. Her knuckles tapped the wall w
Romy POV By the fourth day, the room felt smaller.The fog outside never lifted. It pressed against the windows from morning until night, turning the glass pale and dull.The corners of the bedroom faded into shadow long before sunset, and every hour that passed made the walls seem closer.I lay on my back, staring at the door.Twelve feet.I’d measured it so many times I no longer needed to look. Twelve feet from the bed to freedom.My thumb rubbed against the edge of the blanket, catching on a loose thread. The wool scratched my skin.Somewhere under the covers his scent lingered–cedar smoke, clean soap, and something warmer that seemed impossible to escape.Because he was always here.If he crossed the room, I knew it. If he shifted in the chair near the hearth, I knew it. If he stood by the window, I felt it before I heard it–the bond made sure of that.A plate landed on the cedar chest at the foot of my bed.“You need to eat something, Romy,” he said, his shoulder against the bed
RomyI woke slowly, keeping my eyes shut and my jaw locked tight.Something heavy lay across my legs, pinning me in place. One of my boots was still on, pressing painfully against my toes beneath the blanket.A warm thumb rested at the base of my neck, rough against my tangled hair whenever it moved.Rowan was behind me.His chest rose and fell against my back with every breath, the heat of his bare skin bleeding through the thin fabric between us. He smelled faintly of smoke and rain and whatever hell the Hawthorne ruins had dragged him through.I stayed perfectly still.I moved my fingers first, testing the mattress. Then I slowly dragged my hand toward my waist until I found the button of my trousers, still jammed through the hole with dried mud packed into the fabric.My jacket was gone. I was in a loose undershirt I didn’t recognize, the seam under one arm already coming apart.I kept my breathing even, then I tested the weight behind me again. He was Still asleep.Of course he wa
Rowan pov I was hallucinating.I had to be.Fear had wrapped itself so tightly around my chest that maybe my mind had finally broken.Because the last thing I remembered was dropping beside her in the mud.The last thing I remembered was holding her.I remembered dropping beside her. Remembered pulling her against me.Remembered begging her to wake up.I didn’t remember letting her go.I didn’t remember the darkness that followedBut when I looked up, Liam Mercer was ankle-deep in the rain with Romy in his arms.Her head rested against his shoulder. Red hair clung to the dark wool of his coat. Her arms were limp, fingers streaked with dirt. Mud dripped from her boots.He went completely silent. Terribly silent.“Liam.” My voice barely sounded human.The boy only adjusted his hold on her, lifting her higher.Rain had washed the dirt from his face. For a second, I saw the same boy I’d seen outside the villa. Young. Stubborn. Looking at her with that same awful certainty.As if he belie
Romy povThe ground under my cheek wasn’t tile.For one stupid second, my mind reached for the villa anyway–for the cold marble floors, the echoing halls, the polished prison I had learned to hate with every breath I took inside it.But this wasn’t marble.This time it was wet, broken, root-tangled earth pressed hard against the side of my face. Mud had found its way into my mouth. Something sharp scraped my lower lip when I tried to breathe. The air smelled of rot, rain, and old iron, thick enough to choke on.Above me, the remains of a stone arch leaned against the storm as if it had been trying not to fall for a hundred years and was finally tired. Mist crawled under it in pale strips, clinging to the mossy stones, sliding over my hands, my boots, my ruined clothes.I tried to lift my head, but the pain exploded in me.It came from my shoulder, then my chest, then everywhere at once. A slow, ugly burn spread under my skin, deep enough that it no longer felt like a wound. It felt l
Romy’s POVAt six o’clock that morning, the guards were changing shifts, and I’d been watching the four-minute gap between rotations at the east gate for two days.I left through it in the rain.The rain had started around five. My boots were already sinking two inches into the ground before I was through the perimeter By the time I cleared the tree line, water had soaked through to my shoulders. My chest ached with each breath, a dull, deep pull that had nothing to do with the cold. I kept walking anyway. If I stopped, I wasn’t going to make it the rest of the way. I had known for thirteen years what day this was. I’d marked it every year–in the Waxmans’ spare room with the door shut, in training facilities and airport lounges, in a hotel bathroom in Oslo with the shower running so no one outside would hear. I had never had a place worth visiting, and I had never been close enough. But now, I was close enough.The Hawthorne property sat forty minutes from the eastern boundary–dow
Romy's POVKieran stretched his stay on Wednesday, sending a two line note to Rowan citing ongoing territorial business, asking for another four days. Rowan granted it with the strained smile of a man who had no logical reason not to and knew it. By Thursday, Kieran had found three occasions on w
Romy PovLord Kieran arrived at half past two on Tuesday accompanied by six guards, two vehicles and insouciance of never wondering if he is welcome. I observed from the top of the stairs. He was tall, not quite Rowan’s height but close. Dark haired and good looking face. He wore it well and moved
Romy PovRowan looked at his mother for a long second.Then at me.I raised my eyebrows slightly. What exactly was he expecting from me? Sympathy? Backup?His jaw shifted once before he looked back at Pamela. “I’m going to agree to this on one condition,” he said, “Valerie has to swear that she wil
Romy PovThe dress was intentional.Deep burgundy silk, fitted through the waist, structured enough to sharpen every line of my body instead of softening it. The back dipped low between my shoulder blades, exposing skin in a way that looked elegant instead of obvious.I was going to be a distractio







