There are no women left in the werewolf world. At least, that's what the packs tell themselves.
The world is ruled by wolves. And wolves have no queens.

Female werewolves are extinct—erased by time, war, or something worse. No one dares to speak of them. No one remembers how they looked. No one *survived* them.

Except her.

Raised as a mistake. Hidden like a curse. She bound her chest in bloody cloth and learned to walk with a limp so they wouldn't see her hips. She spoke in growls and spit like the boys. She pissed in the dirt and pretended not to bleed.

Her grandfather called her deformed. Said she was sick. A freak. Told her if the pack ever found out what she really was, they’d rip her to shreds. And she believed him.

Until the night of her first shift—when her bones broke and reformed into something unmistakably *female*.

Now, the secret she was told would kill her becomes the reason she's sold.

Five alphas. Five monsters in human skin. Rulers of a vicious, dying pack. They've been waiting their entire lives for something like her. Something to fuck. Something to breed. Something to chain.
Now exposed as the only living female werewolf, she is captured and sold like livestock—delivered to five ruthless alphas who rule by claw and blood. Five rivals who see her as salvation and property. A walking womb to breed a new generation. Their personal apocalypse in fragile flesh.

But they made one mistake.

They thought she was prey.
But she is not fragile.

She is fire.
She is hunger.
She is vengeance wrapped in curves and teeth.

They want her on her knees. She’ll bring them to theirs.
By the time their lust turns lethal and their unity rots into war, she’ll have made them hers—or burned them to the fucking ground.

She’ll let them fight over her. She’ll let them touch, taste, even claim her. She’ll feed their obsession until it rots into madness. Then she’ll twist their lust into rage—and tear their precious pack apart from the inside.

One kiss at a time.  
One betrayal at a time.  
One body at a time.

She was born to be their ruin.

"Okay then," I said sharply, pointing my knife vaguely in his direction. "You can strip naked for all I care."


I went back to my breakfast and started eating.


Behind the table, Michael burst into laughter.


A full, amused laugh that filled the room.


"Well," he said after a moment, clearly entertained, "that's the boldest invitation I've received all week."


I stabbed a piece of fruit with my fork.


"Eat your own breakfast and stop talking."


"I'm not the one pretending not to look."


Michael was watching me with that same teasing grin, completely unbothered.


"And yet," he said lightly, resting his chin on his hand as he studied me, "you're having breakfast with me."


I sighed in frustration and took another bite of food.


Chapter 38 - Naked Breakfast