Sierra

The lingering heat of his touch instantly turned to ice.

"You are lying." I whispered. I clutched the sheets tight against my chest. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

"Get dressed." His voice was completely void of the passion from moments ago. He picked up my torn dress from the floor and threw it at me.

"The entire pack is waiting downstairs. It is time they see exactly what kind of snake we have been harboring under our roof."

He did not give me time to process the whiplash. He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the bedroom. I stumbled down the grand staircase barefoot. The entire elite stood in the ballroom. The music had stopped. Hundreds of eyes turned to watch Santiago drag me to the center of the floor and throw me onto the cold marble tiles.

"Look at her." Santiago spat. He looked down at me with pure, unadulterated disgust. "The sweet little stray. The gold digger who put my father in a coma."

The entire ballroom gasped. The sound echoed off the high ceilings.

I froze. My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about? Your father had a sudden stroke."

"A stroke induced by concentrated wolfsbane." Amaia stepped out from the front row of the crowd. She held a sleek tablet in one hand and a small, empty glass vial in the other. She looked down at me with a victorious smirk. "The exact extract that went missing from the pack infirmary three days ago."

"I did not touch any wolfsbane." I scrambled to my knees.

"Santiago, you have to believe me. I love your father."

"You love his bank accounts." Amaia interrupted smoothly. Her voice was loud and clear for the business partners to hear. "Do not play the victim, Sierra. We checked the security logs. Your keycard accessed the infirmary at two in the morning the night before the Alpha collapsed. And the guards found this empty vial hidden inside your mattress."

"I was getting painkillers for my cramps!" I yelled. Tears blurred my vision. "Someone planted that vial! Amaia, you are lying!"

"Enough." Santiago growled. His Alpha aura flooded the room. It forced my head down. "Do not call my Beta a liar. You expect us to believe someone planted it? You are a parasite, Sierra. Just like your pathetic mother."

"Do not bring my mother into this." My voice shook uncontrollably.

"Why not?" Santiago laughed. It was a dark and cruel sound. "She packed her bags and disappeared two days ago. But she did not just run away because she was scared. My financial team flagged a wire transfer of two million euros to an offshore account in her name. It was a coordinated plan. She took the upfront cash, and you stayed behind to finish the job."

"No." I sobbed. The betrayal pierced straight through my chest. "She left because she could not stand the abuse in this house anymore. She abandoned me. She did not take any money. I do not have a single penny to my name."

"You wanted the entire pack." Santiago stepped closer. His black shoes stopped inches from my hands.

"You wanted him dead so you could claim the inheritance as his legal dependent. You used him."

I looked up at him. My vision was completely blurred with tears. "He was the only person in this house who actually cared about me. He gave me the name Sierra. He said it was because I brought peace to his home, like the mountains from his childhood. He treated me like a real daughter. I would never, ever hurt him."

Santiago's jaw clenched tight. For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw a flicker of doubt in his dark eyes.

But Amaia immediately stepped closer to him. She placed a gentle hand on his chest.

"Do not let her manipulate you, Santiago." Amaia whispered. She made sure her voice carried. "She is a murderer. She is crying because she got caught. She needs to face the consequences before she targets you next."

Santiago's expression hardened back to stone. The ruthless bad boy returned. He looked down at me like I was nothing but garbage.

"I, Santiago Vanguard, officially reject you, Sierra, as my mate."

The words echoed in the dead silent ballroom.

A sharp, violent pain ripped through my chest. It felt like my ribs were being cracked open with bare hands. I screamed in agony, clutching my heart as the brand new mate bond shattered into a million irreparable pieces. I collapsed onto the floor.

Santiago did not even flinch. He just watched me bleed out on the inside.

"And as my first official act as Alpha," Santiago announced over my painful sobs. "I banish you from this territory. You are no longer recognized by this pack. You are property. And your debt will be paid in the North. I have sold you to the Cursed King."

The crowd erupted into shocked whispers. The Cursed King was a savage. He ruled the frozen wastelands with blood and terror. Sending me there was a public death sentence.

I forced myself to stand up. My legs were shaking violently. My chest was hollow and bleeding from the rejected bond. But the sadness was suddenly gone. It was replaced by a burning, violent rage.

I looked Amaia dead in the eyes, and then I turned my hardened gaze to Santiago.

"You are making a terrible mistake." I wiped the blood from my bottom lip where I had bitten it. "You think you broke me tonight. You think you won. But I promise you both. I am going to survive. And when I come back, I will take everything you love and burn it to the ground."

Santiago let out a dark chuckle. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Take her away."

Two massive estate guards grabbed my arms. They dragged me away from the center of the room and hauled me toward the grand double doors.

Just as they pulled me out into the freezing night air, the heavy iron gates of the packhouse blew open with a deafening crash.

A massive, terrifying black convoy rolled onto the gravel driveway. The temperature in the courtyard plummeted instantly. Frost crept up the marble steps.

The Northern guards had arrived early.

And stepping out of the lead armored vehicle was a man whose dark, dominating presence made Santiago look like a little boy.

The Cursed King had come to collect his property himself.

Sierra

The car door slammed shut.

The interior of the car smelled of expensive leather and something sharp, like ozone before a storm. I huddled against the door, my skin still crawling from the phantom sensation of Santiago’s touch. The rejection bond was still aching in my chest. It felt like my heart had been shredded and left to bleed in the dark.

"Stop crying."

The voice was deep. It was like velvet wrapped around gravel.

I looked up. The man sitting in the shadows of the backseat was even more terrifying up close. He was massive. His shoulders were so broad they seemed to take up half the cabin. He leaned back with a terrifying grace, his long legs stretched out. He didn't look like the other Alphas I knew. He wasn't polished. He was raw. Dark tattoos peeked out from the collar of his black shirt, climbing up his neck like ivy.

"I am not crying." I wiped my face with the back of my hand. My voice was hoarse. "I am mourning the fact that I didn't kill Santiago when I had the chance."

A small, dangerous smirk touched his lips. He finally looked at me. His eyes weren't just dark. They were haunting. He was devastatingly handsome in a way that made you want to run and stay at the same time.

"Great." He said. "Keep that fire. You are going to need it where we are going."

"Where are we going?" I asked. I moved as far away from him as the seat allowed. "And why did you buy me? I am a 'murderer,' remember? Or did Santiago forget to mention that?"

"I don't care about the gossip of a pack that can't even protect its own." He leaned forward. The movement was sudden. He invaded my space, his scent flooding my senses. "You are Sierra. The girl with no pack. And I am Ansel. Your new reality."

"I am not your property." I snapped.

"Technically, you are." He corrected me coldly. "But let us be clear about one thing. I do not have time for tears or drama. You have a role to play. If you play it well, we won't have problems. You will be fed, clothed, and protected. If you don't, the North is a very cold place for a lone wolf."

"What role?" I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

Ansel looked out the window as the car sped away from the Vanguard estate. I watched the lights of my home disappear. I felt a pang of agony, but I pushed it down. I had to survive.

"My position is being threatened." Ansel said. His voice was casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "The Council of Elders thinks I am too unstable. Too 'cursed' to lead without an anchor. My brother, Ricosta, is already whispering in their ears, trying to claim my seat. He thinks he can run the North better than I can."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

Ansel turned back to me. He leaned in so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. His touch was firm, almost aggressive.

"I need a Luna." He whispered. "A perfect, happy, devoted Luna to show the Council that I am settled. I need the world to believe we are a match made in the stars."

I let out a harsh laugh. "You want me to lie? After what just happened? I can barely stand to be touched by a man right now."

"It is a transaction, Sierra." He said. His gaze dropped to my lips. "You play the part of the doting wife in public. You smile at the galas. You stand by my side at the trials. In exchange, I give you a life Santiago could never dream of."

"And in private?" I challenged him.

"In private, you can hate me all you want." He shrugged. "But there is one more condition. The Council won't be satisfied with just a wedding. They want a legacy."

I shook my head. "What does that mean?"

Ansel's eyes darkened. He moved his hand from my jaw to the back of my neck, pulling me slightly closer. The air in the car suddenly felt very thin.

"I need a son, Sierra." He said. His voice was a low growl. "I need an heir to secure my line. Give me a son, and after he is born and the Council is silenced, I will give you your freedom. I will give you enough money to go anywhere in the world and disappear."

I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. "You want me to... you want a baby?"

"I want a future." He corrected. "And you are the one I chose to give it to me. It is a simple deal. A life for a life."

"You are insane." I whispered. "I don't even know you."

"You don't need to know me to carry my child." He said. He didn't sound like a hero. He sounded like a king who was used to taking whatever he wanted. "Do we have a deal, or should I tell the driver to drop you off in the middle of the woods? I hear the rogues are hungry this time of year."

I looked at him. Truly looked at him. He was ruthless. He was arrogant. He was everything I should hate. But he was also my only way out. He was the only person who could keep me safe from Santiago’s reach.

"Three months." I said. My voice was trembling. "Give me three months to decide."

"You have until we reach the border." Ansel said. He didn't move away. He stayed in my space, his heavy presence pinning me against the seat. "But let me give you a piece of advice, pet. Don't look back. There is nothing left for you in that pack but a grave."

I looked at his tattoos. I looked at the raw power in his shoulders. I thought about Santiago and Amaia laughing in that ballroom. I thought about how he had used me and then thrown me away like trash.

"I'll do it." I whispered. "But I have my own rules. You don't touch me unless it's for the 'role.' And you never, ever mention my mother."

Ansel’s smirk returned. It was a beautiful, lethal thing.

"We'll see about the touching, Sierra." He said.

He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in further, his nose brushing against mine. For a second, the hatred I felt for men in general flickered. There was a spark there. A dangerous, forbidden pull that had nothing to do with a mate bond and everything to do with the man himself.

"Welcome to the North." He whispered against my lips.

His phone buzzed. He pulled back, the spell breaking instantly. He looked at the screen and his expression turned to ice.

"What is it?" I asked.

"My brother." Ansel said. He looked at me with a look that made me want to scream. "It seems he has already found out about you. He's waiting at the gates. And he brought a guest."

"Who?"

Ansel didn't answer. He just looked out the window as we crossed the mountain pass.

Get ready, Sierra." He said. "The game just got a lot more complicated."

As the car rounded the final bend, I saw the lights of a massive stone fortress. And standing under the spotlights at the entrance was a figure I recognized all too well.

It was Giberano.

My heart stopped. He wasn't supposed to be here. I had seen him on the news and heard about him. Ansel's father.

My hands shook.

What was I supposed to do?

But as the car pulled to a stop, I saw the look on his face. It wasn't anger. It was a bit genuine smile.

Ansel gripped my hand, his rings cold against my skin.

"Smile, Luna." He commanded. "Our first audience is waiting.”

Sierra

The car slowed to a halt, the tires crunching on the gravel of the Northern fortress. My hands were shaking so hard I had to sit on them. This wasn't just some remote outpost. This was the lion's den.

"Get out of the car, Sierra," Ansel commanded. His voice was like ice, but his hand reached out and gripped mine. It wasn't a comfort. It was a warning. "And remember. You love me. If you look like you’re about to faint, I’ll give them a reason to actually worry."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stepped out. The mountain air was biting, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from the man standing at the top of the stairs.

Giberano. The former King. Ansel’s father.

He didn't look like a monster. He looked like an elder statesman, his silver hair neatly combed, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. Beside him stood a younger man with a sharp, rat-like face.

"Ansel," Giberano called out, his voice booming. "You’ve finally returned. And I see you didn’t come alone."

Ansel pulled me flush against his side, his arm heavy around my waist. "Father. Ricosta. I believe you were expecting us."

Ricosta, Ansel’s half-brother, stepped forward. He raked his eyes over me, making me feel like a piece of meat at an auction. "So this is the little Vanguard stray? The one Santiago was so eager to get rid of? I heard she was a murderer, not a prize."

Ansel’s grip tightened on my hip, his fingers digging into my skin. "Watch your tongue, Ricosta. You are looking at my fiancée. The future Luna of the North."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Giberano’s smile faltered.

"Fiancée?" Ricosta laughed, a high, irritating sound. "You’ve been gone for forty-eight hours and you’ve found a soulmate? Does she even know about the curse, or did you forget to mention that in your marriage proposal?"

"She knows everything she needs to know," Ansel growled. The air around him began to vibrate with a low, dangerous hum. "She’s here to secure the line. Which is more than you’ve done with your string of tavern girls."

"Enough," Giberano barked, though he was still looking at me with intense curiosity. "If she is to be the Luna, she must be vetted by the Council. They are already inside. They heard the rumors of your arrival and they are... impatient."

We were led into a hall that felt more like a courtroom than a home. Twelve elders sat behind a long stone table, their faces etched with centuries of tradition and skepticism.

"Ansel," the head elder said, not even looking at me. "You claim this woman is your chosen. But the North does not accept claims of convenience. If she is the anchor to your curse, we need proof."

"What kind of proof?" I asked, my voice small.

The elder finally looked at me. "The bond of the North is sealed in blood and consummation. If you are to be his Luna, the union must be finalized tonight. Under the watchful eye of the Pack’s traditions. We will not wait for a spring wedding while the throne sits unstable."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "Tonight?"

"Tonight," Giberano added, his voice smooth as oil. "Unless, of course, my son is lying and this is all a desperate ploy to keep his crown."

"She stays," Ansel said firmly. He turned to me, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Take her to the royal chambers. Prepare her."

Before I could protest, two stern-faced women in grey tunics approached me. They didn't ask. They simply took my arms and led me away from the only person I knew, even if I hated him.

The preparation was a blur of rose-scented water and silk. They stripped me of my emerald dress, washing away the scent of the South until I smelled like the pine and snow of the North. They dressed me in a sheer, white silk gown that felt like nothing against my skin.

"You are lucky," one of the women whispered as she brushed my hair. "Many would die to be in the Alpha’s bed."

"I’m not lucky," I whispered back. "I’m a prisoner."

They left me in a massive room lit only by the glow of the fireplace. The bed was draped in furs, looking more like an altar than a place of rest. I sat on the edge of it, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The heavy oak door creaked open.

Ansel walked in. He had discarded his suit jacket and tie. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, revealing the intricate tattoos that told the story of his battles. He looked lethal. He looked beautiful.

He didn't say a word. He just walked toward me, his boots heavy on the stone floor. Every step felt like a countdown.

He stopped right in front of me. I had to tilt my head back to look at him. Up close, the scent of him was overwhelming—cedarwood and something uniquely him.

"They are waiting outside the door, Sierra," he said, his voice a low, rough velvet. "They won't leave until they hear what they came for."

"I can't do this," I breathed, my hands clutching the silk of my gown. "This wasn't the deal. You said three months."

"The Council changed the rules. My brother is whispering in their ears as we speak." He reached out, his large hand cupping the side of my neck. His thumb brushed over the spot where Santiago’s mark should have been, but was now just scarred, empty skin.

He leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips. It wasn't the cold aggression from the car. This was something else. Something slower.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered, his dark eyes searching mine. "But I need them to believe you are mine. Truly mine."

He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing mine, his hand sliding down to the small of my back to pull me against him. I let out a soft gasp, my eyes fluttering shut as the world narrowed down to just the two of us and the crackle of the fire.

"Sierra," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver straight down my spine. "Look at me."

I opened my eyes, and for the first time, I didn't see the Cursed King. I saw a man who was just as trapped as I was.

He started to lean in his grip tightening, but then a sharp, frantic scratching came from the balcony window.

A white wolf was perched on the ledge, its eyes glowing a frantic, bloody red.