I still remember the moment I killed him—my first mate, bound to me by blood and fate. He tried to drain me—my essence, my soul, my power—and I fought back. When he fell, something inside me shattered. Every pack, every whisper carried my sin—though I never meant to kill him. I was surviving. Defending myself. Yet surviving feels like betrayal when love dies in your hands. The moon bled red that night, its light painting the forest where shadows breathed and magic pulsed. Demons, witches, merfolk, were-ears—every creature felt the echo of my power. I wasn’t a fledgling Alpha anymore. I was the storm they feared… and desired. “I never asked for this,” I whispered. “I never asked to be hunted… or loved like this.” But love came anyway—wild, consuming, forbidden. Lucien’s rage burned hotter than his kisses. Kael’s fire worshiped my scars. Draven’s shadows caressed where light dared not reach. Orion’s wings wrapped me in thunder and temptation. And Fenric… his command could unmake me with a whisper. They were danger and desire made flesh—my paradox, my ruin, my salvation. Each touch dragged me deeper into a world of magic, war, and sin, until pleasure and pain blurred into one truth: I was never meant to belong to just one. By the end, I rose from blood and ash, no longer the hunted, but divine—claimed by five, feared by all, and destined to burn the world for love.
