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Ruined by the Sovereign

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 1176    |    Released on: 05/06/2026

into the penthouse dining room wearing a bespoke Tom Fo

es on her silver fork. Four prongs. She traced the cold condensation on her crystal water glass. She kept her po

nds hidden beneath the fabric. The bite was three days old, but

ike a cheap, flashy watch. Beside him, Elena leaned into his shoulder, her golden hair perfectly sty

ker. It was silver, shaped like a small bird. She cal

vy oak doors

ysical weight. It sucked the oxygen from the air, instantl

pped onto the intr

back with ruthless precision. The cut of his charcoal suit was immaculate, stretching across shoulders that wer

posture of a man who knew exactly h

from his fingers and shattered against his porcela

suffocating silence. The Alpha aura radiating off him was so dense it forced three of the nea

the table. He dropped th

less face of Elder Vance rolled forward, his dead eyes staring up at the chandelier. The

nsive rug. Her heart slammed against her ribs

bling servant standing

ass the sal

. That was the problem with extreme

stared at her,

e Ryan. He sat down. He adjusted his cuff

in my se

sper cut through the din

ked frantically. He looked at the severed head on the floor, then at the brothe

iscussing the weather. It was a sloppy operation. Vance talked before he died.

mative sweetness dissolving i

aker herself. She sprinkled a precise

ething massive and invisi

roared to life, carrying a wave of dark, suffocating arousal straight

iscussing pack finances with Jane's father. He cited offshore accounts

rvous system with the phantom sensation

brutal, wet ache that made her shift her thighs beneath her silk skirt.

e. His amber eyes flicked

oing it on purpose. He was proving that he rem

racked, high and desperate. He sto

ke him. He is feral. He

g the walls were already submitting, their heads b

tanding before the man who owned the strings. Desperate, humiliated, and panic

at Jane. You think we care? Take the pack. But you are still a madman. And if you think you are taki

in the room drop

oking at Jane's fa

footsteps making no sound on the wood floor. The pack held

ped behind J

ine and blood wrapped arou

thumb slid under the edge of her high silk collar. He pressed down, exactly o

ed through Jane's spine. She let

n, his amber eyes glowing with

does not

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Ruined by the Sovereign
Ruined by the Sovereign
“She didn't run when her fated mate rejected her; she walked straight into the subterranean fighting pits to be ruined. If the pack wanted her pedigree pristine for their golden boy, she would make sure her womb was violently, irrevocably corrupted by their locked-away nightmare. She just didn't expect the feral beast she fucked in a blood-stained cell to wear a bespoke Tom Ford suit to breakfast three days later. Jane was bred to be the perfect Luna, a pureblood mare for the future Alpha, Ryan. When Ryan humiliated her on Mating Day by claiming her perfect half-sister instead, Jane didn't break. She dissociated. Seeking absolute destruction of her political worth, she stole the warden's keys and descended into solitary confinement. She offered herself to Michael, the Blood Sovereign and Ryan's older, feral brother who had been locked in the dark for years. The claiming was a blindingly explicit transaction of teeth, slick heat, and suffocating pine. She left him in the dark, thinking she'd won her sick little game. Then came the pack dinner. Michael isn't chained. He isn't feral. He sits at the head of the table, executing a hostile takeover of the pack with cold, surgical precision. While discussing finances with her father, Michael pushes a wave of dark arousal through their hidden bond, watching Jane's knuckles turn white. When Ryan sneers that purebloods don't take leftovers, Michael's tactical facade slips just enough to be terrifying. He reaches across the table, his thumb pressing exactly over the hidden, raw puncture wounds on Jane's neck, and whispers, "My knot doesn't wash out."”