Alpha’s Heir, Not His Mate

The night was quiet again. Too quiet. Not the calm that followed danger, but the kind that curled beneath the […]

The wind had shifted. Zara noticed it first—how the morning air, once sharp with frost, now carried a heaviness that

The grove had always been a place of quiet—where time folded in on itself and the air held a stillness

The moonlight spilled across Aria’s chambers like a silver tide, pooling at the foot of her bed where a cedar

The east wing of SilverCrest had always belonged to Evelyn—the rooms saturated with jasmine and cold marble, the scent of

Dawn painted the eastern ridgeline in molten silver as the pack gathered in the amphitheater. The stone seats had been

The SilverCrest courtyard was quieter than usual. Too quiet. Aria stood beneath the frost-bitten arch of the training grounds, watching

The whispers had started the morning after the naming. Not loud. Not direct. But Aria could feel them slithering through

Kael had seen thousands of things in battle—bloodied warriors, torn earth, magical ruptures that split the sky in half. But

The night was thick with silence. Not the tense quiet of threat—but the hush of waiting. Of something sacred taking