They think she’s a myth. A prize to claim. A body to breed.

“Cute. Let them try.”

Living among humans as “Astrid”, selling potions and pawning herbs to keep her ailing father alive, Rhiannon Astrid Vale has mastered the art of survival—hiding her claws, her scent, and the dangerous secret nestled in her blood. 

She’s not just a werewolf. She’s alpha-born. And worse? She can hear every filthy, possessive, broken thought a wolf dares to have about her.

When a hunt for rare herbs spirals into a nightmare, Rhiannon is captured and dragged into the brutal world of werewolf politics on an auction block. Sold to the infamous Bloodfang Pack—a council of five rival alpha brothers barely held together by blood and violence—she becomes the most valuable prize in existence.

To them, she’s a rare, breedable, power incarnate.

To her? They’re five obsessions waiting to be unravelled.

Because Rhiannon isn’t just rare—she’s the living legacy of the she-wolf who cursed their kind two centuries ago. Her blood holds the key to saving or dooming every last one of them. And whether the curse breaks or burns depends on one thing:

Who she chooses.

Trapped between dominance and desire, with five alphas clawing for her body and her loyalty, Rhiannon doesn’t beg. She seduces. She manipulates. She makes them burn for her until they’re ready to tear each other—and the world—apart.

But as passion twists into something terrifyingly close to love, and every kiss threatens to unravel her defences, Rhiannon faces a brutal choice:

Burn the pack from within to save herself...
Or let herself be devoured by five alphas who would bleed the moon dry just to keep her.

She came in chains. She might just leave crowned in blood.

The morning of my wedding arrived not with thunder or triumph, but with silence, followed quickly by the rush of slippered feet and the quiet clinking of glass jars and brushes.


Three maids worked around me in coordinated silence. Powder. Balm. A faint shimmer along my cheekbones. 


The cosmetics were light, nothing overdone. Just soft touches that brought out my features—like someone had painted light onto my skin.


And when they stepped back and turned the mirror toward me, I froze.


For a girl who grew up rationing soap and wearing second-hand clothes, this-this reflection—felt like stolen magic. 


Glossed lips, silken hair in cascading waves pinned with a crescent-moon comb. A fine dusting of gold shadow at my lids.


"You look…" one of the maids breathed softly, unable to finish.


But I didn't need her to. For once, I agreed with her comment until the door opened without a knock.


Chapter 29 - Wedded