LOGIN“You're going to die, Camila. The bond is killing you.” “That's a lie. Carlos marked me. We're companions.” “Then tell me... did you feel the bite? Did you feel the bond explode inside you? Because the mark... isn't on your body. Nor on your soul.” She froze. Her throat burning. The cruel truth seeping in like poison: no. She never felt it. Camila had been living a lie. She believed she was Luna. She believed she had a home, a mate, a son who loved her. But everything fell apart when Maura returned—the she-wolf that Alpha Carlos truly loved, the only one he ever wanted to mark. No mark. No bond. No forgiveness. She was betrayed by everyone—even her own son, who started calling her “annoying” and preferred the other woman. And what Camila thought was love... It was just an act. But before the disease takes her, before she dies as a shadow of what she once was, Camila will show the world who she really is. Because she was never a weak omega. She is a Lycan. And she is awakening. When Carlos begs for forgiveness... Will Camila still be there? Or will she have already chosen a new path—and a new love—alongside the one who has always recognized her?
View MoreMaura's POVI was upstairs, hands trembling with rage and chest tight from a humiliation that still burned like acid, because never, in my entire life, had anyone pushed me aside like that in front of an important visitor, much less in front of an Alpha who was clearly evaluating every gesture, every posture, every exposed hierarchy. The scene replayed in my head with cruel precision: his hand shoving me away, the harsh tone demanding respect, third-party eyes witnessing it as if I were disposable. To me, the blame wasn't on Carlos, wasn't on the visitor, wasn't on the situation. The blame had a name, a face, and a position that should be mine.Camila.She was stealing what had always been mine by right, even though they insisted on telling that story backward, even though the pack pretended to believe she was the legitimate Luna, when in truth all she did was occupy a space I'd built gradually, with patience, sacrifice, and strategy. I was there when she wasn't, I sustained the house
I was still restless inside when Valentina's car slowed down and stopped in front of the pack house, because the appointment with Rodrigo had left echoes that wouldn't settle, questions that refused to stay in place, memories that had been poked improperly and now pulsed like something alive beneath my skin. Before even touching the door handle, before even taking a deep breath to compose myself, everything in me vibrated in an unmistakable way, a physical certainty, ancient, impossible to confuse with anything else, and I knew, without needing to see, without needing to smell, without needing any confirmation, that my brother was there.The recognition came like an impact, an overwhelming mix of fear and guilt, longing and love, a pain both good and bad at the same time, the kind that makes your chest tighten and your breathing fail for a second, as if your body needed to remember how to keep existing after an absence that had lasted too long. My heart raced, my hands began to trembl
Bernardo's house had never felt as silent as it did that morning, a heavy silence that brought no peace, only vigilance, as if the walls had learned to watch after the escape attempt. Any walked through the room with restrained, calculated movements, aware that each of her steps now carried a different weight, because freedom was something that had been stripped from her without fanfare, replaced by a forced obedience no one bothered to disguise.She knew, even without looking out the window, that one of the pack's warriors was posted outside. She knew it from the metallic scent that never left the hallway, from the constant presence that made the air feel thicker, from the sensation of not being alone even when she closed her eyes. Watched twenty-four hours a day, escorted even to breathe, Any had learned quickly that questioning was pointless. Omegas didn't question. Omegas obeyed.Since the failed escape, her relationship with Bernardo had become something indefinable, more tense t
rang out like a heavy bell even the city's most distant corridors felt vibrate, and when the ceremonial hall's doors closed that afternoon already tinged with anxious twilight, the air inside the enclosure became dense as if the walls had swallowed light itself; no one allowed themselves the luxury of laughter, no gesture was slowly executed, because the rumor that had run through the tower in previous hours—images, drones, whispers—had transformed the meeting into something no longer just protocol, but a tribunal whose first sentence hadn't yet been pronounced.Raquel, with the custom of one accustomed to ordinances and etiquette, remained erect, hands on the stone table decorated with runes no one dared touch without asking, and it was her voice, precise and cold, that opened the session with the coldness of one who'd already decided to transform shock into strategy; her first speech brought no compassion, brought administrative necessity, because before something whose nature seeme
POV: BernardoDirigi o caminho inteiro sem olhar pra ela. O carro era só o som do motor e o cheiro dela, misturado à ferrugem do medo. Cada vez que trocava de marcha, sentia o pulso bater nas têmporas, forte o bastante pra doer. Anya estava encolhida no banco do passageiro, as mãos presas no colo,
POV: AnyaI slammed the bedroom door shut. The wood shook, and the sound echoed through the house like a bang. For the first time, I wasn't afraid. For the first time, I wanted him to hear it. To feel the noise. To know it was over.I leaned my back against the door and let the air out, heavy and h
POV. BernadoI woke up with the smell of old leather from the sofa permeating my nostrils and an uncomfortable pain in my lower back. I moved slowly, feeling my back crack, as if each vertebra were a reminder that I wasn't where I should be. And maybe that was true. Maybe I never had been.The blan
POV: CamilaCarlos dismissed the nanny early, and for a second, I thought he was in a bad mood, ready to start another one of his veiled attacks. But instead, he appeared in the living room with two glasses of juice and a memory game board under his arm, like some fucking margarine commercial dad.






Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.