Every alpha generation must have a Saint, an omega chosen by the Moon Goddess to carry the cub, the heir of the world. When the last saint vanished, the curse fell on me.
I am not a saint. I am a fake saint, bound to a duty I never asked for, and forced to walk among alphas assigned to guide me, claim me, and guard me.
Their eyes are all on me, each filled with desire, obsession, hunger… and each one willing to do whatever it takes to make me theirs. And among the circle of them, one shadow stands colder than the rest, the alpha whose hands destroyed my family, whose cruelty made me an orphan. 
The Moon Goddess demands obedience.  But my body and heart burn with a dangerous defiance, and I will not bow to prophecy… not to them, not to fate.

The palace had survived wars, storms, ancient curses… But absolutely nothing had prepared it for Primrose learning how to exist outside my arms. One week. Just seven days. And my daughter had already established three laws of the household: 1.If mommy (me) is out of sight, scream. 2.If Charlie is in sight, scream louder but happily. 3.If Zavier tries to take her away from Charlie, declare war.


I was almost certain she was doing it intentionally. Primrose was already lifting her head on her own, tiny brows furrowed in that determined little way that made every alpha in the room stop breathing for a second.


"She looks like she's planning something." Terrence muttered as he watched her from a safe distance, arms crossed.


"She is planning something." Adrian corrected. "Look at her eyes. She's calculating her escape route."


Charlie, sprawled on the rug beside her, gasped dramatically.


Chapter 58 - 58. Primrose first words