Chapter 1

All because our twin daughters begged to watch a martial arts spectacle, my mate alpha Caspian delayed her diner with my sister. With a cold sneer, he deemed it ”;trial by fire”; and cast our six-year-olds into the werewolf martial training compound. I collapsed onto the marble foyer: ”;Please! Their 'discipline' methods are torture—they’re children!”; Caspian coiled an arm around Cilian, the nanny’s daughter. As he slid into his obsidian Bentley, the window rolled down just enough for his growl: ”;Weaklings whimper. If my heirs can’t survive horse stance, they’ll be remade.”; Three nights later, the moon hung low and blood-red when my phone buzzed with a voiceless call. I followed the scent of iron and ozone to the underground auction—a cavernous den where werewolves traded relics of pain. Spotlights carved through the gloom, pooling on a pedestal where my daughter Stephanie knelt, her wrists bound with silver chains that smoked against her skin. Elizebeth stood beside her, her once-bright eyes now hollow. ”;Lot 666: Two pureblood whelps, trained in the art of submission,”; the auctioneer’s voice slithered. ”;Perfect for alpha enforcers—or decorative blood bags.”; I lunged for the stage, but guards tackled me, their claws piercing my shoulders. Through the haze of pain, I saw Caspian in the VIP booth, Cilian draped over his lap like a trophy. ”;One million. I’ll take them as... dog toys for Cilian’s new pup.”; The crowd roared. Stephanie’s cry pierced me: ”;Mama! ”;” My veins turned to ice — the ”;vase”; in the display case wore Stephanie’s pink hair ribbon, stitched into its porcelain flesh. Fresh blood seeped from the cracks, staining the alabaster surface like spilled moonlight. ”;THOSE ARE MY CHILDREN!”; I screamed, lunging for the glass. Werewolf enforcers tackled me, their claws tearing through my blouse as they pinned me to the marble. The training camp director ground his cigar into my palm, his wolfish grin baring silver-capped canines. ”;Your alpha spent thirty million on diamonds for his bitch,”; he sneered, foot crushing my wrist until bone crunched, ”;but you think he’ll pay five for whelps who can’t even shapeshift on command? Pathetic.”; Elizebeth’s tiny fingerprint smudged the glass, a desperate plea etched in smears. When I clawed at the case, the director kicked my ribs: ”;Face it, mutt. They’re art now — prettier than you ever made them.”; By the time I dragged myself back to the manor, the moon had risen, painting the estate in bone-white light. Only Finley, our housekeeper met me at the door. ”;He’s at the blood moon gala,”; she murmured, handing me a silver tray with a single envelope — Cilian’s scent clinging to the wax seal. Inside, a photo: Caspian nuzzling Cilian’s neck, her collarbone marked with his alpha bite. I collapsed onto the velvet couch, and something sharp pricked my thigh. My fingers trembled as I dialed Caspian’s number, the line crackling with static and her muffled moans. His snarl cut through: ”;Can’t you smell I’m in a meeting? Speak.”;** ”;It’s the twins’ birthday...”; I bit through my lip, iron tang of blood mixing with salt tears. ”;Please—fetch them from the compound. They’re breaking.”; A low, cruel laugh rattled the receiver. ”;Milo says they’re already doing full splits. A little pain and suddenly they’re actors? If you’re bored, go collect them yourself. Weak mothers raise weak pups.”; The line went dead. Finley rushed in with a first-aid kit. ”;Lady, your palm—”; she began, but I shoved the shard into my pocket,my daughters’ nails still clung to it. There, beneath a layer of Caspian’s old pack medals, lay the bond broken agreement—signed, sealed, unloved. Three months ago, the girls had pressed their noses to the window, counting sleeps until their ”;alpha daddy”; took them to the martial show. Ten years of a mating bond forged in ink, not love. It all began when Cilian, the nanny’s daughter, arrived with her sly smiles and alpha-enticing pheromones. I pressed my thumbprint into the document, the silver ring on my finger—his ”;claiming gift”;—suddenly heavy as a cage. Finley gasped as I tore the ring from my finger, tossing it into the fireplace. I stared into the tempest outside, the rain drumming against the glass like distant war drums. Stephanie’s final voice note echoed in my head—a fractured scream of ”;Mama!”; tangled with the crack of a whip and the trainer’s snarl: ”;Is that all you’ve got, whelp? ”; Caspian would never know that his ”;delicate”; daughter died clutching the moth-eaten teddy he’d tossed her last winter—the one he’d scoffed was ”;unworthy of a future alpha’s heir.”; And Elizebeth… . They’d broken three fingers to ”;master iron palm strikes,”; the trainer had sneered in a text. ”;Weakness is a disease. We’re curing her.”;