The Alpha's Funeral Was My Wedding Day
READING AGE 18+
Kane practiced the words. That's the part Sera can't forgive. "I reject Sera Vale as my mate." Eleven words, delivered without a pause, at the coronation where he'd sworn to name her Luna. Then his new bride produced a vial with Sera's own wax seal on it, and five hundred wolves she'd spent years stitching back together watched her dragged out by the arms. None of them spoke.
They took her wolf at the door. They didn't know to take anything else. Kane had never asked why she'd stopped drinking wine that winter.
The man who pulls her out of the snow in rogue territory wears a hood and asks no questions. He offers her a bargain instead: her healing gift, five years, his protection. He has an execution brand on his hand and a name the whole continent buried. Sera negotiates while she's still half frozen. He seems to appreciate that.
Five years later, a herald announces the Luna of Thornmere at the gates of Blackridge. Kane hasn't tasted food in four years. His alliance is failing, his wife keeps a locked drawer he's never asked about, and the woman on the dais watching him lose his composure has two children who stay just out of sight.
He'd give the whole territory to speak with her alone.
She's already promised her bond to someone else.
Unfold
The hunter lasted until moonset. His secrets lasted four seconds longer.
Iron knew nine ways to make a man talk. She didn't need any of them. He talked the way dying men do when they've been promised a clean death and cheated of it, fast and bitter, eyes on me the whole time, and what he said unmade twenty-six years o……
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