Sable Thorne was sold like livestock—a human bride for Garrick Ravenclaw, the aging Alpha of the Ironpaw Pack. No ceremony, no vows of love, just a contract signed by the uncle who pocketed fifty thousand dollars for her life. At twenty-four, she became wife to a man twice her age who wanted a ornament, not a mate.
She expected cold indifference. She got Caspian instead.
Garrick's son—twenty-six, battle-scarred, and burning with resentment for the "gold-digger" who married his father. Caspian Ravenclaw was everything his father wasn't: young, vital, dangerous. His wolf prowled beneath his skin every time she entered a room. His eyes tracked her movements with predatory focus that made her skin burn.
"You don't belong here," he snarled during their first meeting. But his gaze said something else entirely: Mine.
The pull between them was immediate and wrong. She was his father's wife. He was forbidden territory. Yet every accidental touch ignited sparks. Every heated argument ended with them too close, breathing too hard, wanting too much.
Then the night Garrick struck her for the first time, Caspian's wolf broke free. He pinned his own father to the wall, claws extended, eyes blazing gold: "Touch her again and I'll rip out your throat, Alpha or not."
That's when Sable discovered the truth buried in her blood: she wasn't human. She was dormant Luna—a wolf queen whose power had been suppressed by her family to sell her easier. And Caspian? His wolf had recognized her from the first glance.
She was his true mate. Fated. Inevitable. Bound by the Moon Goddess herself.
Now they're trapped between duty and destiny, fighting a bond that grows stronger each day. Garrick knows and he'll kill them both before surrendering his possession. The pack whispers about betrayal. And Caspian's touch burns hotter than shame ever could.
"Tell me to stop," he whispers against her skin, "and I will. But you won't."
He's right. She won't.

The moment I got back to my room after dinner, I tore Caspian's note into pieces, then took the pieces to the small fireplace in the corner and watched them turn to ash. They know. Run. Three words that had turned my blood to ice the moment I read them. Three words I could not stop hearing even now, even as the last black flake crumbled and disappeared.


But who knew what? Did Garrick know about Caspian? About the way Caspian looked at me? About whatever it was that made my chest burn every time he was near? Or did he know something else — something about me, about what was happening inside my body, about the second heartbeat that would not stop pounding?


Chapter 8 - WHAT BREAKS IN THE DARK