Chapter 1
I was born of silence. Not the peaceful kind—the kind that hums beneath your skin like a warning. The kind that watches you from the trees when no one else is around. Growing up among wolves who always knew exactly where they belonged, I learned quickly that I was not one of them. Not really. Not ever. They called me family, but I could feel the lie in every glance, every cautious step around me. I didn’t howl with them. I didn’t shift when they did. The moon didn’t speak to me in the same language. And yet, something inside me howled louder than any of them ever could. A whisper in my blood. A heartbeat not entirely my own. I don’t remember when I first began to notice it—maybe it was always there, crouched low like a predator, waiting. I only know that whatever it is, it wants out. And lately, it’s been stirring. Then he came. Fenrir. Alpha. Monster. Legend. The one they say kills with a thought and rules with no mercy. His presence wraps around the air like smoke—thick, choking, impossible to ignore. And when our eyes met for the first time, something inside me cracked wide open. It wasn’t fear I felt. It should’ve been. But it wasn’t. It was recognition. Like something ancient had just snapped into place. He looks at me like he sees straight through the girl I pretend to be and into the thing buried underneath—something even I don’t understand. And God help me, I think he might be the only one who can unearth it. I don’t know what I am. Not yet. But I know this: whatever’s inside me...it’s waking up. And once it does, nothing will ever be the same. Not for me. Not for him. Not for the world that thinks it knows how this story ends.
Power has never been a question for me. I was born to command, raised in blood and bone to lead. My name is spoken in hushed tones, not out of reverence—but fear. I’ve broken alphas with a glance, bent entire packs to my will with nothing more than a whisper. I am the storm they pray won’t come. But nothing prepared me for her. Azrael. She moves like dusk—quiet, unsettling, beautiful in a way that suggests ruin. Not strong, not dominant, not even sure of her place among her own kind. And yet…she carries something in her I can’t name. A pulse I feel in my bones. A fire that sings to something buried in me, something older than rank or bloodlines or rules. The moment I saw her, everything in me stilled. Not because I recognized her. Because something inside me did. There’s power in her—raw, untouched, untamed. It coils just beneath her skin, silent for now, but it won’t stay that way. I see it in the way the earth seems to hold its breath around her. I feel it in the way my wolf claws toward her, not out of lust, not even out of instinct. Out of need. And that terrifies me. Because I don’t fear enemies. I don’t fear death. But this girl—this mystery wrapped in flesh and shadow—she could be the one thing I can’t control. The one thing that turns the predator into prey. The bond between us is impossible. Unnatural. Fated. Fate is a cruel thing. And if what’s inside her wakes before she’s ready…before I’m ready…there may be no stopping it. No stopping her. The fire will rise. The truth will burn. And I will have to decide: do I break her…or let her break me?
The double doors swung inward, and Azrael stepped into the club. The first thing that hit her was the stillness—thick, almost oppressive—broken only by the low hum of neon lights. Colored strips of pink and blue painted the floor, tracing the edges of the bar and dance floor. Dust motes drifted lazily through the shafts of light, the only things moving in the otherwise empty room.
My name is Azrael and this is my story. I knew it was a bad idea to come into the nightclub during the day. There is no one here but this place looks amazing.
Milo spoke, his voice tinged with warmth despite the late hour, "We're closed.”
Azrael arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "No shit, Sherlock," she retorted, her tone as sharp as the edge of a blade.
Milo chuckled with a twinkle in his eyes, "But I’d love to help you if you want me to."
Azrael's gaze softened momentarily, a flicker of vulnerability betraying her tough exterior, "Well, I need a job," she confessed, her voice low yet filled with determination.
Milo smirked, "It's all yours, baby girl," he replied with mischief in his voice.
Azrael's lips quirked up in a wry smile at the nickname as her face filled with confusion, "You're human, right?" Azrael questioned, studying Milo.
Milo quipped, a playful gleam in his eyes, "I can be whatever you want me to be."
Azrael's patience wore thin, "And I don't have fucking time for this. Stop eyeing me and tell me if you need employees. Snap out of it," she demanded.
Milo's gaze held admiration, "I'm sorry, you're the most perfect girl I've ever seen," he confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Azrael rolled her eyes, unimpressed, "Blah, blah, blah, I want to work here," she stated matter of factly, cutting through the tension.
Milo couldn't help but tease, "What would you do in here? Are you sure this is a place for a little girl like you?" he taunted, his grin widening.
Azrael bristled at the remark, "What do you mean a little girl like me?" she challenged, her tone daring Milo to underestimate her.
Milo remarked, earning himself a smack in the face from Azrael, "You look cute and innocent, except for those freaky red contacts."
Azrael retorted, her eyes flashing with a fierce light, "Do I look cute and innocent now?"
Milo couldn't help but admire her spirit, "How the hell can you be so little, yet so strong?" he marveled, genuine curiosity in his voice.
Azrael’s voice rose, "Stop calling me little, I'm not little," Azrael stated firmly.
Milo signed deeply, "Okay, okay. Come back tonight, we have an open position for a dancer," he offered with a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Azrael smiled softly, "Perfect. Now give me one whiskey neat," she requested, her demeanor shifting from defiance to acceptance.
Milo chuckled, shaking his head at Azrael, "There's no use arguing with you about the fact that we're closed," he remarked, pouring her drink with practiced ease.
Azrael smirked, "I always get what I want. You'll get used to it. I'll see you tonight," she stated confidently with a smirk on her lips as she downed the whiskey in one smooth motion.
As Azrael made her way out of the club, a Fenrir came from his office and approached Milo with a raised eyebrow, "Are you fucking blushing?" Fenrir smirked.
Milo declared with mock dramatics, "I just met the love of my life.”
Fenrir shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips, "You're losing your mind," he teased, with amusement in his tone.
Milo’s face filled with a grin, "That's what she said."
Fenrir's expression turned serious, "I didn't get any smell from her. Is she human?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Milo's gaze held reverence, "She's a goddess," he uttered.
Fenrir raised an eyebrow, "Why was she here in the middle of the day?" he questioned.
Milo shrugged nonchalantly, "She was looking for a job," he explained, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Fenrir prompted, "And?"
Milo smirked, "I told her that we need dancers and to come back tonight," Milo replied with excitement in his voice.
Fenrir considered Milo's words carefully, "But we don't need dancers," he stated.
Milo's eyes sparkled with conviction, "Boss, when you see her tonight, you'll understand that she's worth it. You have to trust me. She'll bring us a lot of customers and money. She's the bomb," he declared.
Fenrir studied Milo for a moment before nodding, "Put her as a waitress for tonight. That way she can't mess up too much," he decided, his trust in Milo unwavering.
Fenrir thought it was strange that he couldn't smell anything. If she was a human he’d still get a scent. She's definitely hiding it from the others. But why? That's never good. Fenrir needed to keep an eye on her tonight. She's on his territory and you don't get on his territory and fuck around. Maybe she's a rogue who needs shelter? Or she's a killer on the run. Either way Fenrir was determined to see what was going on. And whatever it was he needed to find out fast.
I can't believe this was the only place I can afford. I don't have enough to eat. It wasn't always like this. I had a perfect childhood. Money, respect, parents who loved me deeply, but one day everything changed. My mother, Mia, was the most beautiful person. My father, Isaac, my hero and I was a daddy's princess. My mom was pregnant with my baby brother. They loved each other but me being born on the throne, and now there was a threat that my brother would be born like me. My father was the alpha of the pack, he tried to protect us but he couldn't do anything, our own pack betrayed us. They killed my father because of me. I was born with red eyes and red hair. The first wolf to have red eyes after seven hundred years. Everyone other than my parents panicked. They say wolves like me are born as some sign, a premonition of bad. Wolves like me are the ones who bring destruction and death. Last time one was born, every pack went to war against one another. Thousands and thousands of lives were lost so when I was born everyone was scared. My parents, as silly as they were, even gave me the name Azrael, after the angel of death. They didn't think I would turn out to be some sort of evil wolf. They're only mistake in life was giving me life and protecting me. Before I was born, they were loved and respected. They were the most respected Alpha and Luna around. They didn't want everyone to be afraid, they wanted to be everyone's friend and that's why they're dead now. They trusted their own pack, they thought they were our family…and what did our pack do? Our pack tortured my father and my pregnant mother for hours before they killed them. I was watching everything. They made me watch my mother cry, protecting me and the baby in her belly. I was screaming the whole time until I finally lost my voice. They gave my father a choice. He could reject us in front of everyone, admit that I'm an abomination and that my mother is the default of all of it and let them kill us so he could stay alive…but my father never did that. He was proud of his family. People who I called my family ever since I was born, my pack, pushed a knife coated in wolfsbane in my stomach and chained me with silver chains. I was dying for hours, I was only five. My parents were laying dead beside me and then…I don't know how I managed to pull the knife out and the chains off of me. I was in so much pain that my wounds didn't heal as fast as they should, it took them years. Guess it's true that I'm more powerful than any wolf on the planet. If that happened to any other wolf, they would be long dead by now. The day my parents died I still wasn't of age to shift into my wolf but at the age of seven I met my wolf, her name is Bianca. For some reason, I never managed to shift. Sure, we talk all the time, she's always there but she never managed to get full control of me. Maybe something is wrong with me. We often argue because she's a hopeless romantic, yearning to find our mate. I learned how to cover up my scent and I moved far away from where my pack originally was. I was moving around a lot but I think I'll settle here. I know I just got to this town ten days ago but I have a good feeling. But the only thing I need to do is stay away from the alpha of this pack. I heard a lot of bad things about him. Everybody fears him. I better find something I'm ready for tonight. I'm not happy that I'll be a dancer but this is something I'm good at, you'll see.
