<b>Seraphina </b>Duskgrave’s greatest regret in life was not bearing a child for the Duskgrave bloodline.
Not because shecked the <b>strength</b><b>, </b>or the devotion, or the lineage.
But because the Moon Goddess had taken that ability from her–violently, and without mercy.
+8 Pearls
Her expression darkened as the memory surfaced like rot under her wless skin. If her <b>child </b>had survived that night, they would have been in their twenties now–strong, beautiful, heir to everything.
But all of it had been stolen.
Stolen by that bastard, Lucien.
A flicker of <b>raw </b>hatred red in her eyes. No one in the backseat noticed, but the scent of her fury–bitter iron and scorched. roses–was impossible for any wolf to miss
It had been his mother who cursed her womb. His mother who, in a fit of defiance and dark magic, had caused her miscarriage and left her barren. And now that damned child <b>had </b>grown into the heir of Stormridge. The entire Duskgrave empire–every silver–marked crest, every blood–forged alliance–was in his hands.
Not hers. Not her future son’s.
And worst of all? There was nothing she could <b>do </b>about it.
She could only smile through her perfect teeth and watch as that cursed mutt inherited <b>the </b>world she had fought for.
Her knuckles whitened <b>as </b>her <b>mind </b>turned to another betrayal–one far more recent.
She had seen the message just three nights ago. A photo, forwarded by her mother–inw, Matriarch Duskgrave, to her
husband.
A girl.
<b>Young</b>. Delicate. The kind of soft–faced vixen old wolves thought could soothe broken dy
And her <b>husband’s </b>reply!
She’s promising. If Mother approves, I have no objection.”
Seraphina nearly shredded the phone with her ws.
They <b>hadn’t </b>even divorced her yet. And already, they were shopping for recements. Disgust twisted her features.
No one–no girl, no <b>matriarch</b>, no cursed heir–was going to push her out of the Duskgrave <b>estate</b>. She had fought tooth and w to be the <b>Luna </b>of Stormridge. She’d driven Lucien’s mother to <b>madness</b><b>, </b><b>manipted </b><b>courts</b>, buried secrets. No one would take that from her.
<b>Not </b>while she still drew breath
Scarlett Vale, sitting beside her, felt the shift in Seraphina’s energy. The older woman had gone still–too still. Her eyes<b>. </b>weren’t just <b>distant</b>, they were burning <b>with </b><b>something </b>Scarlett <b>couldn’t </b>name.
She immediately stopped speaking.
Smart girl. Serana thought bitterly. But still so very naive.
The luxury car came to a smooth halt before the Mooncrest <b>Grand </b>Hotel
Scarlet and Seraphina <b>stepped </b>out, both <b>graceful</b>, poised–expecting eyes to turn toward them. Expecting admiration. Deference
Instead, the hotel staff barely blinked.
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Guests hurried past. A few gave a quick nce. No one bowed. No one whispered in awe. The silence was deafening.
-8 Pearls
Scarlett’s practiced smile faltered for half a second. But she recovered quickly, adjusting the hem of her gown <b>and </b>tucking herself beside Seraphina once more.
Seraphina, however, was seething.
In Stormridge, she was a queen. Wherever she walked, wolves dropped their gazes and offered their throats. But here in Mooncrest? Nothing. Not even a growl of respect.
Of course, she didn’t know what had happened just an hour earlier.
That the entire venue had already been shaken by another she–wolf’s arrival–Riley Vale, daughter of the disgraced Ebonw Pack, whose emergence had left a trail of stunned whispers and bared throats in her wake..
Next to <b>that </b>storm. Seraphina and Scarlett were a quiet drizzle.
But Seraphina straightened her spine, adjusted her blood–red shawl, and stepped forward. Let them ignore her for now. Once she was <b>inside</b>, once they knew who she was, they woulde crawling
She had seen it happen a thousand times.
They approached the entrance–but stopped short.
<b>A </bmotion at the <b>door</b>.
A tall male wolf <b>in </b>a tailored ck suit stood just beyond the threshold. his sharp features twisted in irritation.
Ronan Duskcliff, <b>Alpha </b>of the southernmost ckmaw Pack, heir to the Duskcliff <b>name </b>and Lucien’s long–standing rival.
The security captain stood firmly between him and the entrance. “Apologies, Alpha Ronan. Without a formal invitation, I cannot allow entry.”
The security officer, a seasoned beta with scars on his jaw, looked nervous but resolute. He’d already been reprimanded for letting in unregistered guests once today. If he made the same mistake again–especially with someone from the Duskcliff family–he might not survive the week.
Ronan’s tone dropped, low and dangerous. “Name your price.”
The officer shook his <b>head</b>, sweat <b>starting </b>to form along his temples. “Sir, this <b>isn’t </b>about coin. It’s the rule of the House.”
With a growl, <b>Ronan </b>reached into his coat and pulled out a check. “One million credits,” he said, tossing it at the guard’s
chest “Now move.”
The <b>man </b>caught it instinctively, nced down–<b>and </b>then crumpled it in his fist.
“No.”
The growl that escaped <b>Ronan’s </b>throat made two omegas nearby flinch. “Don’t push me.”
The officer squared his shoulders. “With all due respect, Alpha, the <b>Duskgrave </b><b>Pack </b>doesn’t <b>take </b>bribes. <b>And </b>if I let you in without clearance. I won’t live to spend that money.”
Ronan’s jaw tensed. <b>His </b><b>nostrils </b><b>red</b>.
Scarlett watched the scene unfold, her interest piqued. She <b>knew </b>Ronan well. Knew <b>his </b>rage, his pride.
And she knew exactly what this was really about.
This wasn’t about the party. It never was
about the crown The Pack. The blood feud
And Ronan hade to draw first blood–in public
3.43 PM P P.
Seraphina remained silent, her expression <b>unreadable</b>. But beneath the surface, her satisfaction simmered.
Let the cursed boy deal with this mess.
Let the bastards tear each other apart.
She would <b>watch</b>. And when the time came, she would pick the bones clean.
<b>Send </b>Gifts
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