Chapter 1

Introduction: "When he marked my sister in public, I swore - one day, I will make him kneel down and lick my high heels." At the funeral three years ago, my destined partner tore my dignity apart in public. I thought his brother was salvation, but I didn't know that I was just the most ridiculous pawn in the game of power. Now, I broke the wolf badge, and my red lips brushed his Adam's apple: "Dear, now it's my turn... to play with you." When the flame of revenge is ignited, when the former enemies tremble and bow their heads - I want to let them know that the abandoned female wolf will eventually become the queen of the entire wolf pack.

At my father’s funeral, a moment that should have been dedicated to mourning our fallen Alpha was instead desecrated by the ultimate betrayal. Before the entire Silverhowl Pack, my mate, Kael, cast me aside without hesitation. He didn’t whisper his rejection in private, nor did he offer even a shred of dignity—no, he made a spectacle of it. Right there, in front of my father’s casket, he knelt before Lyra, my father’s bastard pup, and claimed her as his. The hush that fell over the pack was broken not by murmurs of sympathy, but by gasps and sneers, and then—the final cruelty—a screen flickered to life.

The recording left nothing to the imagination. Lyra and Kael, tangled together in the throes of their bond, moving with primal desperation. Every moan, every whispered promise of devotion, rang through the ceremonial grounds like a death knell. My death knell.

I stood motionless, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged beast. The humiliation was suffocating. Wolves exchanged glances, some in amusement, others in pity, but none intervened. I, Selene Nightbane, the true heir of the Moonveil Pack, had been reduced to nothing more than a discarded promise.

Then came a voice, deep and commanding, slicing through the oppressive weight of my disgrace. "Get. Out."

Stormfang stepped forward, radiating dominance, his golden eyes burning with something unreadable. A single word from him sent Kael flinching, his smug expression faltering. Lyra shrank behind him, but Stormfang’s authority left no room for defiance.

"You’ve dishonored this pack enough," he said, voice devoid of warmth. "Leave now, before I make you."

Kael hesitated, but Lyra tugged at his sleeve, whispering something that made his jaw tighten. Without another word, they turned and slunk away, the weight of Stormfang’s presence crushing them beneath its force.

Then, to my utter shock, he turned to me. He sank to one knee, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Selene," he murmured, his voice softer now, meant only for me. "Let me stand beside you. As your Alpha. Your protector. Your mate."

I had lost everything. And so, with shaking fingers, I took his hand.

Three years later…

A week before the mating ceremony, fate once again delivered its cruelty.

Passing by Stormfang’s study, I heard voices—low, tense. I should have walked away. I should have ignored it. But something in my blood went cold, and I lingered by the door, ears straining.

"Alpha Granville, there are other ways to claim the Moonveil Pack. Binding yourself to Luna Nightbane is too dangerous. Isn’t this too great a risk?"

The voice belonged to his Beta, uncertain yet cautious.

A pause. Then Stormfang’s reply, calm and deliberate.

"Once she is mine, she will lower her defenses. Lyra was meant to have her place in the pack long ago. If I must claim Selene to secure it, then so be it. For Lyra, I will do whatever is necessary."

A sharp, numbing chill seeped into my bones.

Three years of loyalty. Of trust. Of believing that I had found salvation in the arms of a mate who had saved me when no one else would. And it had all been a lie.

The tea in my hands trembled, sloshing over the rim. Scalding liquid spilled over my skin, but I barely registered the pain.

If I was nothing more than a stepping stone, then perhaps it was time I let them have what they wanted.

Inside the study, Stormfang sat at his desk, absently flipping through the territory transfer agreement, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"Luna Nightbane’s mother is nearing the end. She won’t make it much longer. Selene will insist on her attending the ceremony, and when she’s gone, the Moonveil Pack will be vulnerable. She’ll come to me, desperate, with no one else to turn to. That will be the perfect moment to strike."

"Are the agreements in place?" Stormfang’s gaze flicked to his Beta, who hesitated, fingers gripping the stack of documents.

"Alpha… Lyra is still an Omega-born pup. This is brutal, even for us. Luna Nightbane has been nothing but loyal to you. She trusts you. If she finds out that all of this was just to put Lyra in power…"

"Enough." Stormfang’s voice dropped to something colder, deadlier. "Lyra is the rightful heir. If I hear ‘Omega-born pup’ from you again, I’ll strip you of your rank myself."

The Beta exhaled slowly. "Understood. I’ll finalize the paperwork. I just hope you don’t regret this."

Stormfang leaned back, expression unreadable. "Erase the funeral footage from three years ago. Selene must never find out the truth."

Then—a creak.The hair on the back of his neck rose.A shadow flickered past the doorway.

Selene.

I stumbled back, my breath uneven, my pulse roaring in my ears.So the public humiliation, the mating video, the whispers and jeers—they hadn’t been Kael’s doing alone.Stormfang, the mate who had saved me, had orchestrated it all.A strangled laugh built in my throat, bitter and hollow.

I thought of my mother’s final moments, the way her frail fingers clutched mine, whispering, "Trust Stormfang. He will protect you."

Safe? I had spent three years believing a lie .A faint click echoed from the study as the door opened. I barely had time to wipe my face before his voice reached me.

"Selene?" I turned, forcing my lips into a brittle smile. "I… I brought you tea, but I spilled it." Stormfang’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer. The scent of whiskey clung to him, his movements slow but deliberate. He cupped my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek.

"You're trembling." His golden eyes searched mine. "Are you unwell?"

Yes. I was sick—sick of being played, sick of being manipulated. But I simply shook my head. For now.