Landslide
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Landslide's Books and Stories
The Hidden Alpha's Innocent Contract Mate
Werewolf My family tried to sell me to a monster.
Frankie Glover was a low-ranking Warrior from the Glover Pack, notorious for his violent temper and wandering hands. To everyone else, I was just a wolfless girl with no rank, no claws, and no power to fight back. To my mother and sister-in-law, I was even less than that. I was a price tag.
So I ran.
In the middle of a freezing Chicago storm, I jumped into the first Uber I saw and begged the dangerous-looking driver to take me anywhere but home. He smelled like cedar, rain, and something darker beneath the scent suppressant on his skin. I should have been afraid of him.
Instead, I heard myself say the craziest words of my life.
“I’ll pay you five hundred dollars a month. Just... marry me.”
I expected him to throw me out.
He drove me straight to City Hall.
By morning, my family had disowned me, Frankie was furious, and my new husband had become the only thing standing between me and the Pack that wanted to claim me. Everyone thought Damien Montgomery was just a broke, unaffiliated Uber driver. A Rogue with no money, no status, and no Pack behind him.
Then Frankie cornered us at a restaurant.
He threatened my best friend. He mocked her child. He tried to hit me.
Damien caught his wrist before the blow landed.
“Don’t touch my wife.”
The room went silent. Even the wolves stopped breathing.
One moment, Damien was the quiet man who drove a beat-up Toyota and lived in an old apartment building on the edge of neutral territory. The next, he snapped Frankie’s wrist, exposed his fake Rolex scam in front of everyone, and made three Glover Pack Warriors run like frightened dogs.
That was when I started to understand.
My husband was hiding something.
The spacious top-floor apartment. The black credit card he claimed was just a bank promotion. The way Pack men lowered their eyes around him before they even knew why. The terrifying grandfather who showed up alone with a jade wolf-fang heirloom and called me the Luna of the family.
None of it made sense.
Damien said he was nobody.
But nobody did not carry the scent of old bloodlines under layers of suppressant. Nobody did not make wolves tremble with a single word. Nobody did not look at a wolfless girl like she was already his.
I married a stranger to escape one monster.
Now I’m beginning to wonder if I accidentally married the most dangerous Alpha in Chicago. When Love Rebuilds From Frozen Hearts
Mafia On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies. Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Billionaire's Cage
Romance I was lying in a hospital bed, my body shattered from a terrible car crash.
My best friend Belinda walked in, but she didn't come to comfort me. She came to gloat.
"You didn't really think the crash was an accident, did you?"
She told me that she and my fiancé, Braxton, had tampered with my brakes.
She stroked her slightly curved belly, smiling as she confessed that she was carrying his child.
They needed me dead so Braxton could take over my family's company.
Even worse, they had paid a drunk driver to run my parents and my brother off the road. My entire family was wiped out by design.
As my world crumbled, a lawyer walked in.
He was sent by my husband, Julian, who hadn't visited me once. The lawyer coldly handed me divorce papers to sign on my deathbed.
I died alone, suffocating on my own blood, consumed by a burning hatred for the people I trusted most.
Why did they destroy my family? Why did Julian abandon me when I needed him the most?
But when I opened my eyes again, the sterile hospital room was gone.
I was standing in my childhood bedroom, staring at my flawless, eighteen-year-old face in the mirror.
It was exactly one week before my engagement party with Braxton.
This time, I wouldn't be their victim. I would burn their worlds to the ground. Reborn Heiress: Escaping The Cheating Fiancé
Modern In her past life, Christabel was locked in an abandoned medical facility, her fingers crushed and her vision blurred with her own blood.
Her stepsister, Hilary, stood over her in a pristine white Chanel suit, smiling as she delivered the final blow.
"Derrick's plane went down. No survivors."
Hilary whispered the words with fake pity, throwing a stack of newspapers directly at Christabel's face.
The bold headlines screamed about the Sanders family's absolute bankruptcy and liquidation.
Christabel's parents and brother had already died trying to protect her.
Now, Hilary was sealing her inside this rusted, pitch-black room to rot away completely.
Christabel couldn't even move her dead limbs to fight back. She could only wait for her heartbeat to stop, drowned in absolute, crushing helplessness.
She hated herself for being so blind, for letting Hilary and her fiancé Jaylon manipulate her, destroy her family, and steal everything she ever loved.
In her final agonizing second, a vicious curse echoed in her mind. She swore that if she had another chance, she would drag them all to hell.
Then, a violent sensation of falling ripped through her, and her eyes snapped open.
Blinding light from a crystal chandelier stabbed her eyes, and an unnatural, burning heat rushed through her veins.
She had been reborn.
She was back at eighteen, in the exact hotel room where Hilary and Jaylon had plotted to drug her and ruin her reputation forever.
This time, the show was hers to direct. The Silent Bride's Billion Dollar Contract
Modern My bank account showed exactly $42.18, and my student loan notifications were flashing red. I lived in a sweltering Queens apartment with my Aunt Lydia, where the air was thick with the smell of stale frying oil and the constant threat of being homeless.
Lydia handed me a grainy photo of a man twice my age and told me she had already "sold" me to him. He was a dry cleaner looking for a wife, and in exchange for my hand, he would pay off her credit cards and my debt. If I didn't show up for the date that night, my boxes would be on the curb by midnight.
I arrived at the cafe in a state of panic, my selective mutism making it impossible to even breathe. In the crowded room, I accidentally sat at the wrong table. Instead of the man from the photo, I found myself facing Gerhard Holcomb—the cold, terrifyingly handsome billionaire whose family owned the very museum where I worked. He didn't send me away; instead, he studied my trembling hands and offered me a different deal: a two-year contract marriage, a two-million-dollar payout, and a strict clause forbidding any children.
I signed the papers and moved into his Park Avenue penthouse, thinking I was finally safe. But when I went back to the old apartment to retrieve the only memento of my dead parents, Lydia lashed out, leaving me bleeding from a head wound. Gerhard’s retaliation was absolute—he had her arrested and her building foreclosed on within hours, claiming he was simply "protecting his assets."
As I recovered in his silent, glass-walled home, I saw a call from a famous socialite flash on his phone, and a cold truth settled in my gut. I wasn't just a wife; I was a placeholder, a silent shield used to fend off the women from his past.
I looked at the massive pink diamond on my finger and realized the silence I had lived in my whole life was about to become my most expensive prison. I had traded a life of poverty for a high-stakes game of shadows, and now I had to survive the man who claimed to own me. Her Dying Breath, His Cold Fury
Billionaires My sister Alia was dying. Her only hope was an experimental surgery that cost half a million dollars. With only two weeks to find the money, I had to swallow my pride and go to the one person I hated most: my estranged billionaire brother, Damon.
But I never got to see him. His executive assistant, a woman named Ginger, took one look at my cheap dress and decided I was a stalker. She refused to pass along my message.
She dragged me into a back room, sneering that my story about a dying sister was pathetic. In front of her colleagues, she tore Alia' s life-saving medical records to shreds and threw them in the trash.
She slapped me across the face, poured hot coffee on my chest, and ripped my dress open to humiliate me further.
I lay on the floor, broken and bleeding, while she laughed. All I could think about was the closing window for Alia' s surgery. Every piece of paper she destroyed, every second she wasted, was another nail in my sister' s coffin.
Because of that delay, Alia died. When my brother finally found out what his assistant had done, the grief that should have broken us instead forged something new and terrible. I looked at him and said that jail wasn't enough. We would give Ginger everything she ever dreamed of, just so we could be the ones to burn it all to the ground. Stolen Husband, Stolen Life, Stolen Love
Romance The phone call felt like a death sentence.
"Killed in action."
My husband, David Miller, a decorated Navy SEAL and the love of my life, was gone, leaving me and our five-year-old daughter, Lily, alone.
But then, he walked through the door.
He looked exactly like David, yet it wasn't him. It was Mark, David\'s identical twin brother, a man I knew to be a selfish, lazy bum, now wearing the mask of my heroic husband.
He moved through the grieving relatives, accepting condolences, even letting Grandma Miller sob on his shoulder, all while his eyes met mine with a cold, calculating assessment, daring me to expose him.
The nausea hit me, a wave of realization that this wasn' t grief; it was an act. He wasn\'t here to mourn; he was here to steal David\'s identity, to erase him to escape his own pathetic existence.
And then fear for Lily, blissful in her coloring, replaced my grief. I had to protect her, no matter the cost.
So, I stepped into the role of the devoted, grief-stricken widow.
"David," I choked out, throwing my arms around him, "I thought I\'d lost you. They told me you were gone."
He stiffened, but recovered quickly, his voice a cheap imitation of my real husband\'s.
I played along, even when his girlfriend, Ashley, pregnant with his child, announced their "happy news" at David' s memorial, then demanded our house and savings.
The audacity was sickening, but I feigned despair, exposing their cruel intentions to the shocked family.
Later, in the backyard, I burned David' s belongings – a painful sacrifice. Mark and Ashley watched, enraged, as he remained trapped by the identity he' d stolen, unable to act for fear of exposing himself.
Then Lily, innocent and pure, delivered the first crack in his facade.
"Mommy," she asked, looking at Mark, "Why does Daddy look different? His eyes are mean."
The words hung in the air, a child\'s innocent observation, but for the first time, I saw real fear in Mark\'s eyes. This was just the beginning.
I would make sure he regretted the day he decided to come back from the dead. My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Horror It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. The Girl Who Refused to Be Broken
Young Adult My whole life was about getting out of this blue-collar town.
Ivy League scholarships were my ticket, and I lived and breathed SAT prep.
My best friend, Bree Van Doren, struggled with her studies, her family's hardware store failing.
She always said I made it look so easy.
Then Bree suggested a "study retreat" at her remote family cabin in the Adirondacks.
After she handed me a bottle of water, that's the last thing I remembered before darkness.
I woke up on a dirt floor, head pounding, in a filthy shack.
This was no cabin; this was a nightmare.
The Petersons, a rough, menacing family, treated me like an animal.
Then Bree appeared, her face shockingly cold, flatly admitting she sold me to them.
For a few hundred bucks and a beat-up snowmobile, my "best friend" had erased her academic competition.
I was to "keep Cletus company."
Sold. Like an object. For a snowmobile.
Every Ivy League dream I had, reduced to ash.
Panic clawed at my throat. How? Why?
Even my own cousin, Jake, seeing me bruised and desperate, didn't recognize me.
But a silent scream of "NO" echoed in my mind.
I would not break.
I was Sarah Miller, and my formidable grandparents, Eli and Agnes Miller, would find me.
And when they did, Bree Van Doren would pay. My Wife, The Monster
Romance My seven-year-old daughter, Lily, just died from leukemia.
Grief consumed me, but my wife, Vicky, told me it was the will of fate-the experimental Swiss treatment simply failed.
We buried our sweet girl.
But then, hours later, I overheard Vicky' s voice, surprisingly light, from her study.
She was on a video call, laughing with her best friend, Chloe.
"He' s back, Chloe! Julian! His big project in Dubai went bust."
Vicky giggled, then scoffed, "Honestly, Lily' s illness was such a drain. Julian doesn' t need to know I had a child, especially one so sick."
Then came the words that ripped my world apart: "I found a clinic in Switzerland, very discreet. Euthanasia."
My heart, already shattered, was pulverized.
Vicky had killed our daughter.
And now, with Lily barely cold in her grave, Vicky was parading Julian, her old flame, through our home, mocking my life' s work, and quickly erasing Lily' s every trace.
She painted me as an unstable, grieving fool.
She vowed to destroy me, to ensure I got nothing.
How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, be such a monster?
How could I have been so blind?
But the pain wasn't just mine; it was Lily' s, a horrific injustice.
I wouldn't let them erase her.
I would fight back, for Lily' s legacy, for the truth, and green the world with the "Oasis System" she loved, whether Vicky and Julian liked it or not. The Dull Wife's Masterpiece
Romance At 35, architect Emily was on top of the world. Her firm just won a major contract for a downtown skyscraper, and she was celebrating a successful career, building dreams one blueprint at a time.
Then came the text. Not for her, but for her husband Ethan. It flashed on his iPad: "My Little Muse. Is the show over? I bought you your favorite vinyl." Show? He was rehearsing.
A chilling comment from her best friend echoed: Ethan had said Emily was "dull," like "a book he’d read too many times." Her trembling hands unlocked his devices. What she found was a sick tapestry of lies: cutesy messages, secretive Venmo payments to a "Sophia M.," and social media posts flaunting his custom guitar pick and even his vintage watch.
The dashcam footage confirmed it all—intimate kisses with a very young "Little Muse" while he was supposedly "rehearsing." This wasn't just a fling; it was a brazen, calculated betrayal, a sickening echo of his "dull" remark.
Every shared memory twisted into a lie. Had their entire life together been a farce? How could the man she loved debase her so utterly, all for a cheap thrill? When Ethan announced a "band tour" that was actually a luxurious Miami getaway with his mistress, a cold rage set in. He thought she was numb, easily discarded? He was about to learn that an architect could build more than skyscrapers—she could construct the perfect downfall, ready to serve him a dose of reality he’d never forget. Possessed By An Octopus
Modern After breaking up with the movie king, I went diving and ended up getting sprayed with ink by a giant octopus.
In that moment, I was invaded by the octopus's genes.
This creature has nine brains, eight tentacles, and three hearts.
My IQ skyrocketed instantly, and the romantic mindset that had troubled me for years was replaced by a new career-focused mindset.
This time, I could finally distinguish who truly cared for me and who was just putting on a facade.
I fired my angelic bitch of a manager and took control of everything myself.
When I argued with netizens, I could take on a hundred of them at once.
Later, the movie king called me again:
"You respond to netizens pretty quickly, but why can't you see my messages?"
I sincerely replied:
"Sorry, but my IQ is too high now; you're a bit beneath me." You might like
Moon-Born Outcast: The Alpha's Broken Mate
Ghostly Mode Fear follows Alpha Samson wherever he goes. As the ruthless leader of the Blackthorn pack, he and his beast, Savage, bow to no one. But when a haunting scent leads him to a neighboring pack's dungeon, he finds his fated mate-bloody, broken, and chained to the wall.
Alora is a half-wolf, half-witch hybrid falsely accused and left to die. But her abusers made one fatal mistake: they touched the mate of a monster.
Rescued by the fierce Alpha, Alora begins a journey of healing that uncovers a lifetime of lies. She isn't just a survivor; she's a weapon. Together, Samson and Alora will unleash hell on those who wronged her, unearthing dark family secrets and claiming the crown that was stolen from her birth. The Alpha's Discarded Luna
Velvet Piston I was three months pregnant when the car hit me.
Lying there, barely hanging on, I called my husband-Alpha Ethan-over and over. No answer. When I finally woke up from the pain, I saw a post from his first love, Ivy. "Thank you, Alpha, for knowing how scared I am of the dark and staying with me all night. He even cleared his whole schedule today to take me to the auction, just to give me the best gift in the world. I'm so happy!"
Right then, it hit me. While I was fighting to protect our child, he was with another she-wolf. I calmly liked her post and put my phone away.
Since he chose his first love, I chose to let go.
Seven days from now, I'd leave his world for good-with our child. Alpha's Regret: The Hybrid's Royal Contract
Lila For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely. His Defiant Mate: The Lycan King's Chosen Luna
MAINUMBY I was waiting at the Registry Hall to formalize my mate bond with Gabe, my childhood sweetheart and the Alpha of our pack.
He was thirty-two minutes late.
When I finally found him in a private VIP lounge, his hands were buried in my cousin's hair, their lips locked together.
Hailee was supposed to be my maid of honor.
Instead of apologizing, Gabe looked me dead in the eye and used his Alpha authority to publicly reject me.
The severing of our ten-year bond tore my soul apart, but the nightmare didn't stop there.
My grandfather immediately called, demanding I clean up a mess Hailee had made.
When I refused, he disowned me on the spot, froze every single one of my bank accounts, and stripped me of my family name.
Within hours, my entire pack erased my existence, gleefully announcing Hailee as their new Luna.
I had given my entire life to a family and a man who discarded me like worthless trash the second I became inconvenient.
I was left broken, humiliated, and utterly penniless in the blink of an eye.
But as I stumbled out of that sterile hall, a terrifyingly beautiful stranger stepped out of the shadows, radiating a primal power that made my knees weak.
He was Caden Sinclair, the ruthless Lycan King, and he was dodging a forced political union of his own.
"You need a shield. I need a wife. Marry me."
Without hesitation, I signed the Eternal Vow. From Wolfless Omega To The Rival Alpha's Queen
Jun Shangye For three years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Blackwood Group for Alec, my Alpha and the man I thought was my mate.
But on the day of our work anniversary, I stood outside his office door and heard him talking with his Beta, shattering my entire world.
"Kay is just a wolfless Omega, useful for paperwork," Alec sneered coldly.
"The bonding ceremony is just a show for the elders. The real Luna, the one who carries the bloodline that matters, is Breanne. I'm transferring all of Kay's core project files to Breanne tomorrow. Let her take the credit."
He even texted me later, telling me to wear a blue dress to the upcoming gala because it made me look "obedient."
I had turned down a Wharton scholarship for this man. I had spent countless nights fixing his mistakes, building his empire, and giving him my youth.
Yet to him, I was nothing but a disposable placeholder, expected to smile and bow while another woman stole my life's work and my place by his side.
The agonizing pain in my chest didn't break me; it forged me into ice.
I didn't cry, and I certainly didn't beg.
Instead, I wiped his servers clean of every strategy I had ever created, left a wax-sealed resignation on his desk, and accepted a job offer from his most ruthless rival. The Heir He Denied
zibya "I reject you," Alpha Damon sneered, looking down at the shivering Omega. "I need a Queen, not a servant."
Aria bowed her head and accepted her fate, but she took a secret with her when she fled into the night: the Alpha's heir growing in her womb.
Five years later, Aria returns to the city, no longer the weak girl who scrubbed floors. She is powerful, wealthy, and stunning. She thought she could hide from her past, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. Her new business partner is none other than Alpha Damon.
When Damon sees her, he realizes the mistake he made. He wants his mate back. But then he sees the little boy with his same grey eyes hiding behind her legs.
"Who is the child, Aria?" Damon growls, his possessiveness flaring.
Aria smiles coldly. "Someone you rejected." Alpha's Regret: Losing His True Mate
Only_Shila For years, I belonged to him. Not his mate. Not his love.
But his bedmate. His Gamma. His shadow in the night.
Alpha Calhoun made sure no man dared touch me, no wolf dared look at me. I was his possession, his secret, his sin wrapped in skin. And I endured it all-his rough hands, his dark devotion, his kisses that tasted like fire and chains because at least, for a while, he was mine.
Until she returned. His destined mate. His so-called true love.
And suddenly, I was nothing. Cast aside, silenced, left to wither in the shadows of a love that had never been mine to claim.
But the thing about being claimed by a man like Calhoun. is that he never truly lets you go.
"Try to leave me, Elodie," his voice had been a snarl against my throat, his grip bruising my waist. "I'll burn down every border, tear apart every wolf that stands in my way, until you crawl back to me. You're mine, even if the Moon Goddess herself wants to rip you away."
He didn't know then that I already had one foot out the door.
And when I finally left his pack.
I took more than just my broken heart with me. That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King's Captive Slave Mate.
Kiss Leilani They don't know I'm a girl.
They all look at me and see a boy. A prince.
Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires.
And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too.
The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance.
How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom?
I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy.
But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince."
How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy?
And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave?
.
AUTHOR'S NOTE.
This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+
Expect triggers, expect hardcore.
If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in!
.
From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave." Forsaken By The Pack, Destined For The Lycan King
Escritorapalacio I was born to be Alpha Damien Carlisle's fated Luna.
Instead, I lived like a stray dog in his pack.
For one year, I watched everyone worship Lilith Vance, his fragile first love, while they mocked me as the barren mate he was too ashamed to mark.
Then I learned the truth.
His mother had been forcing brutal fertility herbs into my body.
His sister threw an illegal sterility poison at me.
And Damien, my own mate, had been secretly lacing my food with wolfsbane contraceptives for months.
When I confronted him, he did not deny it.
"I couldn't let you get pregnant," he said coldly. "If Lilith found out you were carrying my heir, the shock might kill her."
I finally understood.
I was never his Luna.
I was his bloodline. His legal womb. His family's insurance policy.
The moment Lilith coughed up blood, Damien abandoned me without looking back.
So I ran to the capital and begged the Alpha King to grant me a formal Rejection.
He threw my petition away unread.
My mate had poisoned me.
My pack had betrayed me.
And the King himself refused to free me.
Fine.
If the law would not save me, I would save myself.
In my past life, I had been a healer no one believed until it was too late. This time, I remembered everything.
In seven days, at the Royal Hunt, the Alpha King would drink a silver poison designed to kill even a Lycan.
No royal healer would be able to save him.
But I would.
I packed my surgical kit, disappeared into the city slums, and prepared the only cure in the kingdom.
When the King lay dying, he would finally listen.
And the price of his life would be simple.
My freedom. 
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