Chapter 1

It was a beautiful morning when I woke up. Rain pounded the rooftop, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled like my stomach when I hadn't tasted blood in a while— not just any blood, but the blood of my enemies. Some called me Crew, some called me insane, but I saw myself as a practical wolf.

In our world, those with hunger hold power. I hungered for complete control over my kind, to lead them to victory worldwide.

The hunger never died, continuing to rumble in my stomach. No food or blood would satisfy it until the werewolf species flourished to their full potential. I would fight until the moon granted me my last breath.

I pulled up the hood of my shirt and made my way back to the house in the rain, the drops soaking through thin clothes and piercing my skin like ice. The best kind of sting was the kind that jolted you, like a reality check or sudden epiphany.

As I approached the back door, I heard my cook scrambling to prepare my breakfast. They knew I was picky about timing. I gave them a few more seconds before stepping in; they wouldn't function properly in my presence.

Sure enough, they trembled with fear, avoiding eye contact and dropping the food as they hurried away.

Once inside, the kitchen fell silent. I calmly took my seat at the table, eyeing the spread before me with a blank expression. Though it may not seem like it, I enjoyed sampling different foods from around the world— one of the few pleasures I allowed myself, unrelated to werewolf prosperity.

As I dug into my meal, savoring the explosion of flavor, my silence was about to be interrupted. Vincent, my right-hand man, hurried in with a paper in hand.

"King Zade," he started, but I ignored him, focused on my meal.

"King Matthew of the Fourth Kingdom seeks your presence," he continued, and finally, I looked up at him.

"He invites you to their meeting. It would be appropriate if you attended; his daughter has been eager to see you too," he added, handing me the letter.

"No," I muttered, already preoccupied with other concerns.

My wolf stirred restlessly within me. It didn't always support these formal invitations, but now it pounded with a sense of urgency, pushing me to reconsider.

"It's Princess Zoey. She's powerful and strong, fit to be by your side," Vincent insisted, recognizing the need for a formidable ally in my dark world.

I had been without a mate for many years, punished by the moon goddess for my ruthlessness, my mate stolen from me. I couldn't endure loneliness forever, and Princess Zoey seemed to fit into my world—a strong woman who could stand beside me, not weak but a strong beta ready for war.

"I'll go," I finally decided, feeling a flicker of contentment from my wolf.

ASHLEY

As I wandered slowly through the grand halls of the castle, marveling at its beauty, my eyes drank in every detail, never tiring of the sight. But my peaceful admiration was abruptly interrupted when I caught sight of Zoey and her posse. Swiftly, I changed course, avoiding them at all costs.

Zoey had made my life a living hell ever since I began working as a maid in her father's castle two years ago. As the daughter of a powerful alpha king, her arrogance knew no bounds. She singled me out as her target, her plaything for torment and abuse. No one dared to befriend me, seeing me only as an omega—weak and powerless.

I hurried away as quickly as I could, hoping to avoid Zoey's notice, but before long, I felt a sharp tug on my hair from behind. The sound of their raucous laughter made my stomach churn with sickening dread. Zoey and her girls had seen me. They turned me around, Zoey's smirk sending shivers down my spine. I knew what was coming.

"Trying to hide from us, dear?" Zoey taunted, advancing towards me with cold indifference. I couldn't bear to meet her piercing blue eyes for long. Despite her outward beauty—blonde hair and fair complexion—her ugliness on the inside was far worse.

"Don't you have anything better to do than tormenting the weak?" A bold voice interrupted, freezing Zoey and her minions in their tracks. I open my eyes and saw Zoey's cousin, Philip, standing tall and defiant. Zoey's minions released me, and I wasted no time in bowing to Philip.

"The king have arrived" Philip said as I see the lit in Zoey's eyes she immediately rushed as her and her minions followed her behind.

"And you try to stay away from trouble" he said calmly but rude in the same time I nodded my hand .

"Please go to the kitchen and join the others in preparing the meal for our guests," he instructed, prompting me to rush downstairs immediately.

I hurried as fast as my legs could carry me, noting the terrified expressions on everyone's faces. Fear gripped them, evident in their wide eyes. Glancing out the window, I saw a fleet of expensive cars parked outside, accompanied by men in black suits, except for one man dressed in white and black pants. His curly dark hair was styled to the side, and though I could only see his back, his presence exuded power. I found myself admiring him from afar, unable to tear my gaze away as he conversed with the king.

Lost in my admiration, I suddenly realized he had turned, his gaze meeting mine through the window. I gasped, captivated by the intensity of his dark gray eyes. Before I could fully process the moment, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Hurry up," one of the maids urged, pulling me back into the kitchen. Disappointment washed over me as I reluctantly tore my eyes away, knowing I wouldn't have the chance to get a closer look at him.

When we are done with the preparation I helped them serve the meal with the other maids in the dinning the man and everybody else wasn't yet in the dinning room I could see the maids rushing to serve his meal.

So I walked to one of the moafs "why is everyone in a hurry" she gave me a weird look like I don't you understand.

"King zade is here" as she continues serving the meal with shaky hands. I have heard so many things about the lycan king his ruthless, heartless with no single emotions.

My leg began to terrible in fear he saw me staring at him earlier I hope I won't be in trouble I was done serving the meal as I ran away with the other's.

Immediately, I accidentally bumped into someone with force. "I'm sorry," I muttered, raising an eyebrow as he turned towards me, allowing me a clear view of his face.

Describing him as good-looking would be an understatement. He possessed features that initially might cause one to look twice before realizing his true attractiveness. From his sharp jawline to his slightly crooked nose and the faint scar on his cheek, to the light stubble on his face, his dark gray, almost black eyes narrowed on me under the light, as he casually approached with hands in his pockets.

In his flawless imperfection, he was strikingly perfect—a walking contradiction. I involuntarily shifted back slightly, though I maintained eye contact despite the tingling down my spine and butterflies in my stomach.

Stopping just inches away from me, he towered over me as if expecting me to crumble.

After studying me for a moment, he smirked, and despite swallowing nervously, I found myself confused by the small smile on his face. His eyes revealed no emotions I could discern.

I attempted to speak, but words failed me— not even a greeting emerged.

Before I could try again, he spoke first.

"Mine."