To Dahlia, being sold like a commodity, while desperate old men clamored to have a taste of her was the height of degradation anyone could face, but little does she know that that was only the tip of the iceberg.

In a world where destiny is created and manipulated by the moon goddess, the last thing Dahlia expected is that a single night with the Alpha’s son would reshape her life—and not for the better, in her books.

Once the omega slave and the alpha’s plaything, Dahlia is faced with more challenges than she ever imagined. She is scarred beyond measure. Hurt, battered and desperate. 

She’s not an omega but a full blown werewolf, a werewolf with a strong dormant bloodline—a bloodline strong enough to scare even the moon goddess.

Her close proximity with Alpha Zarek had somehow managed to awaken her dormant wolf, opening her eyes to secrets she never knew about herself.

The mission had been to save herself. To get her daughter to safety and flee, so now imagine her surprise when she discovers a huge secret about him. A huge secret that has her questioning everything. 

Now hunted by the Alpha of her old pack and stalked by a vengeful man after her blood, Dahlia must navigate her tangled bond with her possessive new master. But as passion rises and secrets unravel, she must choose:

To save him and get to know about her real roots or flee— as usual. It would have been easy to take the easier route, the more predictable path but there’s a problem: She’s Alpha Zarek’s fated mate.

Dahlia was born for this moment. To have the entire world under her control. She’s not broken. She’s waiting. And she has no intention of backing down.

Their bond is a burden.

Their affection, a lie.

But the fire between them? The scorching engulfing fire burning between their veins might be real.

And even if it is, it will either unite them. Or end them.

I slowly peeled my heavy eyelids open, squinting at the dim room which I now found myself in. My heart raced as a gazillion thoughts struck my mind but before I could ponder over all of them, a voice, as if from my memory whispered; "I'm sorry but I need to have your injuries looked at."


The name alone sent jolts of electricity running through my spine and I shivered as if reliving the feel of his fingers brushing against my skin.


And that is when I noticed it, the smell—sharp antiseptic mixed with something warmer, like pine needles and smoke.


I was in a hospital… or maybe not a hospital, but a place where he'd had 'my injuries looked at'.


My body felt heavy, like stone. Every limb leaden, every breath an effort.


I blinked slowly, the ceiling above me coming into focus. It was pale and unfamiliar, but for some reason, I didn't feel afraid. I wasn't on edge like I should.


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