The Prince's Wrath

Suffocating tension hung over the upstairs study of the Crimson Moon pack house. Alpha Garris wore a path in front of the hearth, nursing a glass of whiskey while Fiona wept inconsolably on the sofa. Beside her, Luna Noreen stroked her daughter’s hair to quiet her down, though the tight strain on her face showed her own patience was wearing thin.

While tempers frayed inside the office, a sleek black Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop out front, trailed closely by twelve heavily armored vehicles.

The instant Prince Lorcan Wraith stepped into the cold air, the faint scent of crushed jasmine and fresh snow hit him square in the chest.

*“She is here! Go find our Luna!”*

His wolf surged forward, fighting hard to seize control, though Lorcan forced the beast down. Following the delicate scent trail inside, he shoved startled maids and Delta guards out of his path until he reached the narrow servants’ corridor. Scowling darkly, he backed a young maid carrying a basket of soiled laundry right up against the wall.

“Where is the woman who sleeps in this room?!” he roared into her face, terrifying the girl so badly that she nearly passed out on the spot without him laying a finger on her. “Where is my mate?!”

Shaking uncontrollably, the maid stammered that Lyra had been let go earlier that morning and that only Alpha Garris knew where she had been sent.

Lorcan tore up the staircase like judgment day had arrived and slammed the heavy office door wide open.

Over by the window, Corbin stood rigid with his shoulders locked, still dealing with the fallout of calling off the betrothal and halting the mating ceremony. He had been raised on strict honor and firm principles.

“Calling off the engagement over a minor misunderstanding was a foolish mistake,” Garris pressed, sounding far more desperate than commanding. “Fiona will make an exceptional Luna for your pack. Lyra isn’t worth your trouble. She has zero training to lead a pack like yours. She’s nothing more than a useless servant, and rejecting her was for the best.”

Corbin didn’t answer right away, though the look he turned on the older man promised murder. It disgusted him to hear an Alpha talk about his own blood daughter like trash.

His thoughts remained stuck in an endless loop, replaying the exact same memory over and over. The cramped little bedroom and its sagging mattress. The battered canvas bag, and the hollow, empty stare in Lyra’s eyes right before the truth came out.

*“I’m the Alpha’s legitimate daughter.”*

The raw ache of their severed bond still burned inside his chest. Lyra was no orphan. She was Garris’s trueborn child.

Lorcan had just caught Alpha Garris’s words from the doorway, and the rage igniting inside him hit like an erupting volcano. Crossing the carpet before Garris could react, he clamped a hand around the Alpha’s throat and hoisted him off the rug, claws piercing his neck. One twist of his wrist would have ended the vermin, except he needed to find his mate first.

“Where is Lyra? Where is my Luna, your future queen?!”

Releasing his grip, Lorcan shoved the man hard against the wall. Over on the sofa, Luna Noreen and Fiona sat completely paralyzed, pinned to the cushions by an aura so hostile and suffocating neither woman dared move a muscle.

“Out... in the forest clearing...” Garris choked out right before slumping onto the floor.

Lorcan spun around to leave, pausing only long enough to cast a brief, icy glance at Corbin.

“Thank you for the gift,” Lorcan told him coldly. “Had you not thrown her away, I never would have found her.”

Without wasting another word, he strode out. Halfway down the corridor, he crossed paths with Beta Dante and, catching Lyra’s lingering scent on the man, slammed him flat against the floorboards within seconds.

“You were near my mate. Where is she?”

The Beta grasped his predicament immediately. Pinning him to the wood was Prince Lorcan Wraith, infamous across the realm for ruthless savagery and countless battlefield victories. Defying him right now was no different from slipping a noose around his own neck.

“My niece is out in the forest clearing,” Dante answered evenly. “Head west past the stream and you’ll reach her. Look for the ruined cabin.”

Letting him up, Lorcan bounded down the stairs, barked an order locking down the entire house until his return, and surrendered control to his beast. Half-wolf, half-man, he shredded straight out of his clothes as he tore toward the dark timber along the Beta’s route.

Pale-faced, Dante stepped into the open office doorway a second later.

“Alpha... we have a serious problem.”

Garris let out an irritable sigh and tossed back the rest of his whiskey in a single gulp.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered, wiping the blood off his neck.

Lorcan had shown up late to the pack on purpose, wanting zero part in tonight’s affair. The sooner he returned home, the faster he could march out on another border conquest. Tired of his untamed heir, the King wanted him domesticated, pushing Lorcan to settle down and claim a Luna before inheriting the crown. That was why his father had sent him to Crimson Moon as his envoy, hoping some woman might finally change him.

What Prince Lorcan Wraith hadn’t counted on was his father’s scheme actually working, though reaching the woods nearly drove him past the brink of madness. Concealed behind an ancient oak, he watched a group of men beat a wolf until one final cry ended in collapse. Spotting a tent nearby, he caught his mate’s scent drifting toward him on the night breeze.

Holding back for a tense minute, he watched her rush out of the tent toward the downed Delta. Seeing her check the warrior’s pulse eased his mind slightly, even as Lorcan’s sharp gaze picked out the ambusher hidden in the branches above right before the man dropped onto her.

His wolf roared, demanding he tear the bastard apart, yet Lorcan caught the glint of steel in his woman’s hand. Listening to every vile word, he watched the man pin her down, waiting until rough hands slid over her hips and touched what belonged solely to him before stepping out to intervene.

Genuine surprise hit him when she plunged the knife straight into her attacker’s eye, and her blood-spattered face thrilled him. As she shoved the bastard off, Lorcan wrenched him up, snapped his neck clean, and hurled the corpse behind the oak trunk he had vacated seconds earlier.

Looking down at her on the ground, a wave of fierce satisfaction settled in his chest as his wolf, Grim, spoke up.

“Good girl. You make me proud. The Goddess has gifted me a warrior.”

Right after that, she lost consciousness and went limp.

Scooping her fragile frame into his arms, Lorcan carried her all the way back to the pack house. Stepping into the main Alpha bedroom upstairs, he laid her gently across the mattress and peeled away her soaked, dirt-stained clothes.

*“Our Luna has been mistreated!”* Grim roared inside his mind.

Letting his gaze travel across Lyra’s bare back, Lorcan brushed his fingertips over thick ridges of scar tissue, both faded and raw.

“I will kill every last one of them,” he vowed quietly.

Stripping off the rest of her ruined outer clothes, Lorcan tucked heavy blankets around her shoulders so she could warm up, then took a seat beside the bed to wait for her to wake. Eerie calm and murderous fury burned inside him all at once. He had finally found his fated mate, only to discover her starved, battered, and in terrible shape, knowing those bastards would have finished their work had he arrived any later.

Fiona had sent them after her, and Fiona would be the very first one to pay.