Mireya
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting golden light across the deep mahogany walls of Alpha Ross’s private study. The curtains were drawn, the room quiet except for the occasional rustle of flames and the slow, rhythmic ticking of the antique clock behind him.
He looked nothing like the Alphas I was used to.
His long white hair framed a face too sharp to be soft, too beautiful to be cruel, but something told me he could be both, if the situation called for it. He wore a black robe trimmed in silver thread, his chest partially exposed beneath the fabric. He sat reclined in a leather armchair across from me like a king who’d grown bored of his throne.
And yet… his eyes, those pale silver eyes, never left me.
“You still haven’t asked what I want in return,” he said finally, voice smooth like melted ice, curling around the silence between us.
I sat up straighter, back tense, fingers clasped in my lap. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Ross’s lips curved slightly, almost like he appreciated the way I carried myself, wary, but not weak.
“I want to make something very clear between us, Mireya,” he began, shifting forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I meant what I said about helping you. If it’s strength you want, influence, vengeance… I can give it to you.”
I stayed still, listening.
“But nothing in this world comes without a price,” he continued, “especially not in Moonlight.”
“What kind of price?” I asked carefully, already sensing it wasn’t going to be simple.
He met my eyes without hesitation. “The mateship.”
A pause. Then he said, “I cannot mark you. Nor marry you.”
I blinked, caught off guard. The bond between us was undeniable, tense, magnetic, maddening. And yet he’d spoken the words like a blade slicing clean through possibility.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
He leaned back in his chair, shoulders relaxing, as if he had prepared for this moment long before it ever came. “There is a tradition in Moonlight Pack. A blood oath carved into the very roots of our existence. Every Alpha of Moonlight, every ruler who leads our hidden city, is bound to marry a daughter of the royal family. A wolf princess.”
My stomach twisted.
“A hundred-year-old pact,” he continued, voice low and edged in steel. “Forged between our ancestors and the royal line of the Alpha Kings. Our pack, the Moonlight Pack, is the last lineage of pureblood Lycans. We were the first. We are the oldest. And because of what we are… we are hidden.”
My mouth was dry. “Hidden?”
He nodded. “We live apart from the world. In the Forbidden City, where outsiders cannot find us unless we want them to. We’ve removed ourselves from politics, from wars. We exist in silence, and in exchange, we stay protected.”
“But why the blood oath?”
“Because Lycan blood is potent. It enhances the wolves it bonds with. The Alpha Kings knew this. To preserve the strength of their throne, they demanded our loyalty, and a promise. That every Alpha of Moonlight would marry their daughters, so the royal bloodline would never weaken.”
I stared at him, stunned.
“So you’re saying… you can’t marry me,” I said slowly, “because you’re bound to someone else. A royal.”
Ross didn’t flinch. “I will be marrying the wolf princess. It’s not a choice. If I break the oath, the consequences will be far worse than war.”
Something in my chest pulled tight. It wasn’t heartbreak, not exactly. I’d stopped dreaming of love the moment Dominic tore my world apart. But this… this still hurt in some distant, cruel way.
“And the mark?” I asked.
“I cannot mark anyone except the royal daughter,” he said simply. “The magic of the pact forbids it. If I do, I’ll die.”
I turned my face away for a moment, swallowing down the bitter twist in my gut.
“So what do you want from me?” I asked, voice hoarse.
He stood then, slow and graceful, like a predator stalking a boundary he couldn’t cross. “You’re my fated mate, Mireya. I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you. And if I lose you completely… I’ll go mad.”
I turned toward him again, stunned by the honesty in his tone.
“I can’t mark you. I can’t bind you to me in the eyes of the world. But I need you here. I need you on my side,” he said. “You calm the madness in me.”
I crossed my arms, holding myself together. “So… what? You want me to be your secret?”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I want you to be my equal. My ally. Even if the world won’t see us as mates… I will never treat you as anything less.”
My wolf stirred. There was something brutal about how he spoke. Not tender. Not romantic.
“And what would I get in return?” I asked.
He tilted his head. “Everything.”
“Be specific,” I said.
“You want war with the Ivyclaw Pack?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You want Dominic brought to his knees? You want Marianne’s name shattered in the courts she once manipulated? You want Alpha Voren stripped of every ounce of power and made to beg for mercy before you destroy him?” His eyes gleamed. “Done.”
My heart slammed in my chest.
“You want wealth? You want to rewrite laws? You want your name feared and respected in every territory?” he said. “I’ll give it to you. But in return… you stay.”
The room spun a little. Not from fear. From possibility.
“I don’t care about the mark,” I whispered. “I don’t care about marriage. I don’t even care about fate anymore.”
He said nothing. Let me speak.
“I just want revenge. I want it so badly I can taste it. I want to be powerful enough to tear their empire apart with my own hands. If you’re truly offering that… then I’ll stay.”
Ross smiled, slow and dangerous. “Then we have a deal.”
That night, I finally lay down in my bed beside my mother. The silence of the manor cradled me like the arms of a beast I no longer feared.
I stared up at the ceiling, fingers curled gently on the sheets. No mark. No wedding. No fairy tale.
But power. Influence. Revenge.
And for the first time since Ysabel died… I felt like I could finally breathe. I could finally sleep knowing the ones who broke me would one day bow before me.
Marianne. Dominic. Alpha Voren. They wouldn’t just suffer. They would kneel.
And I would be the one to make them.
