Genre Ranking
Get the APP HOT
The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate
img img The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate img Chapter 6
6 Chapters
Chapter 8 img
Chapter 9 img
Chapter 10 img
Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 img
Chapter 21 img
Chapter 22 img
Chapter 23 img
Chapter 24 img
Chapter 25 img
Chapter 26 img
Chapter 27 img
Chapter 28 img
Chapter 29 img
Chapter 30 img
Chapter 31 img
Chapter 32 img
Chapter 33 img
Chapter 34 img
Chapter 35 img
Chapter 36 img
Chapter 37 img
Chapter 38 img
Chapter 39 img
Chapter 40 img
Chapter 41 img
Chapter 42 img
Chapter 43 img
Chapter 44 img
Chapter 45 img
Chapter 46 img
Chapter 47 img
Chapter 48 img
Chapter 49 img
Chapter 50 img
Chapter 51 img
Chapter 52 img
Chapter 53 img
Chapter 54 img
Chapter 55 img
Chapter 56 img
Chapter 57 img
Chapter 58 img
Chapter 59 img
Chapter 60 img
Chapter 61 img
Chapter 62 img
Chapter 63 img
Chapter 64 img
Chapter 65 img
Chapter 66 img
Chapter 67 img
Chapter 68 img
Chapter 69 img
Chapter 70 img
img
  /  1
img

Chapter 6

Eliana POV

The heavy iron shears lay on the damp stone floor, a cold reminder of how close I had just come to losing my face.

Ivonne was trembling on her cot, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "El... she's going to kill us. Jessenia is going to tell Lord Jaren-"

"She won't say a word," I interrupted, my voice eerily calm despite the ice freezing my veins. Jessenia was a coward, terrified of the Alpha's wrath. But my victory was hollow. Jessenia wasn't my real problem. Jaren was.

His Inner Wolf had caught the faint trace of white peach and jasmine beneath my disguise this morning. It was only a matter of time before his predatory instincts pieced the puzzle together. I couldn't stay in the servant quarters, and I certainly couldn't stay in the East Wing. I needed a fortress. A place where even a feral, arrogant Alpha wouldn't dare unleash his Command.

There was only one place in the entire Griffin Pack that fit the description.

I grabbed my harsh lye soap and a handful of wet ash, scrubbing my neck until the skin was raw and burning. I had to bury the scent of my White Wolf bloodline completely.

Minutes later, I hurried into the bustling Pack House Courtyard. My timing was desperate, but perfect. Eileen, the Dowager Luna's Head of Staff, was standing near the fountain. The faint, steady scent of chamomile drifted from her, a stark contrast to the aggressive auras of the Warriors. She was looking for a temporary maid.

I didn't hide in the back like I usually did. I stepped forward, keeping my eyes glued to the cobblestones. I slumped my shoulders, projecting the absolute, non-threatening submission of a Wolfless.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I murmured, my voice soft and deferential. "I am a fast worker, and I know how to keep my head down and my mouth shut."

Eileen paused. I could feel her Beta senses sweeping over me. She inhaled, searching for any deceitful Omega or Alpha traits. All she found was the pungent, eye-watering stench of cheap lye soap and the pathetic aura of a Wolfless girl.

"You'll do," Eileen said briskly, her tone practical. "Three days trial in the Dowager's parlor. Do not speak unless spoken to."

Relief washed over me, so intense my knees nearly buckled. I had made it into the eye of the storm.

By mid-afternoon, I was dressed in a crisp, clean uniform, carrying a silver tray of tea into the Dowager's Parlor. The room was suffocatingly grand. The air was thick with the scent of aged agarwood-Josephine Griffin's signature aura. Even sitting quietly in her armchair, the Dowager Luna radiated an ancient, crushing authority.

I had just set the teacups down when the heavy mahogany doors slammed open.

The intoxicating, violent scent of dark rum and cedar instantly devoured the agarwood. My heart stopped. Jaren strode into the room, his jaw clenched, his golden eyes flashing with a rebellious fire.

Panic seized my throat. I immediately shrank back, pressing myself into the darkest corner of the parlor, praying the shadows and my lye soap would hide me.

"You summoned me, Grandmother," Jaren said, his voice a low, disrespectful drawl as he threw himself onto a velvet sofa.

Josephine's eyes narrowed, her Inner Wolf bristling at his insolence. "I hear you have elevated a filthy, low-born Omega to your bed. A Breeder named Jessenia."

I held my breath, pressing my spine against the cold wall.

Jaren scoffed, a cruel, dismissive sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "She's a plaything, Grandmother. A warm body to take the edge off the Heat. Nothing more."

The absolute callousness in his voice made my blood run cold. Jessenia thought she had won a prize, but to him, she was less than dirt.

"The Griffin bloodline is not something to be toyed with," Josephine snapped, her Luna aura flaring. "It is time you took a proper Fated Mate, or at least a high-ranking Luna. Princess Esmeralda Wheeler of the Northern Tundra Pack is visiting. You will meet her tonight."

A guttural growl vibrated in Jaren's chest. His Alpha beast violently rejected the command. "I don't care about your Pack politics, and I certainly don't care about some boring, spoiled pureblood Princess."

He stood up abruptly, his massive frame towering in the room. "I will take whoever I want, whenever I want. And no one-not even you-will dictate my choices."

Without waiting for a dismissal, Jaren turned and stormed out of the parlor, the doors shuddering on their hinges.

I remained frozen in the corner, my hands trembling uncontrollably. Jaren had just defied the highest authority in the Pack without a second thought. He was a monster entirely unbound by rules. If he ever discovered I was the woman he was truly hunting, there would be nowhere left in this world to hide.

Previous
            
Next
            
Download Book

COPYRIGHT(©) 2022