CLOVER

The mansion rose like a fortress against the twilight, its stone walls glowing softly under the fading light. Howard’s Beta, Caleb, led the way with precise, silent steps, his presence as imposing as Howard’s unyielding gaze. My fingers tightened around my bag strap as I followed, Cleo’s low hum of unease whispering in the back of my mind.

Stay sharp, she urged.

Inside, the grandeur was suffocating. Howard’s wheelchair moved smoothly as he gestured toward a heavy wooden door. “Follow me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and I didn’t hesitate. My father had sold me to this man, tied me to this world, and I needed answers.

When the door creaked open, the sight within stunned me. A little girl sat on a plush rug, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. Her small hands moved in quick, fluid gestures. Blaire. Howard introduced her without preamble. “She’s my daughter.”

I barely processed his words before he continued. “She’s deaf and mute, like you.”

The weight of his intent crushed me. I wasn’t truly mute, but my silence over the years had become my armor. Blaire’s gray eyes flicked up to meet mine, so much like her father’s, yet softer, innocent. Something about her fragility pierced through my defenses.

“She’s why I brought you here,” Howard said, his tone hardening. “No one outside this pack knows about her. Not even her mother.”

The mention of Blaire’s mother sent questions spiraling through my mind, but Howard’s gaze warned me against asking. “Protect her. Help her,” he demanded. “In return, I’ll give you whatever you ask for.”

The room fell silent, his command a heavy weight. I nodded, the pull toward Blaire outweighing my anger at my father’s betrayal.

As I followed Caleb to my room, Cleo’s voice cut through my tangled thoughts. He’s hiding more than he’s telling.

The next morning, a knock jarred me awake. Moments later, Howard rolled into the room, his expression unreadable. “Get ready. We need to talk.”

I obeyed without a word, dressing quickly. As I stepped into the hall, he led me toward a pair of grand double doors. Before we reached them, a guard approached.

“Alpha,” the guard said, his tone urgent. “News from Wildthorn Pack. Thomas Kane and Lucille Weston are to be bonded in five days.”

The name hit me like a blow. Thomas—my former mate. Lucille—my sister.

Howard’s sharp gaze caught my reaction. “Does this affect you?”

I shook my head, swallowing the storm of emotions threatening to spill over. Howard didn’t press further. Instead, his focus shifted as another guard arrived.

“Alpha, Tanya Kane is at the gate.”

Tanya. The name sent a shiver down my spine. Howard’s demeanor darkened instantly. “Don’t let her inside. Send her to the training grounds. I’ll meet her there.”

His sharp command left no room for argument. As he turned to me, his eyes were steely. “You’re coming with me.”

The training grounds buzzed with energy, wolves sparring in synchronized precision. At the center stood Tanya, her imposing presence unmistakable. Her sharp eyes locked on us as we approached.

“Howard,” she drawled, her voice syrupy and mocking. “Is this the replacement you’ve chosen?” Her gaze landed on me, her disdain cutting.

Howard’s response was swift. He reached for my wrist, pulling me toward him. Before I could react, his lips were on mine—decisive and claiming. The world seemed to tilt as Cleo stirred in shock, her presence vibrating through me.

When he pulled back, Howard’s icy gaze met Tanya’s. “Does that answer your question?”

Her smirk faltered, replaced by simmering fury.

Howard’s tone turned deadly. “If you don’t stop meddling, Tanya, I’ll expose everything. When the truth comes out, your father will disown you, and no one will want you.”

Tanya’s confidence cracked, her face paling. Without another word, she stormed away.

As her figure disappeared, Howard exhaled slowly, his wolf’s intensity retreating. “Now you see why Blaire is so important—and why I chose you.”

Before I could respond, his expression shifted, shadowed by something darker. “This is only the beginning, Clover. Brace yourself, Clover. This is just the tip of the iceberg. The truths buried here will shake everything you believe.”

The chill in his voice lingered, leaving me with one question burning in my mind: What else is he hiding?

CLOVER

Howard’s warning lingered in my mind: “Brace yourself, Clover. This is just the tip of the iceberg.” Yet after Tanya’s dramatic departure, he withdrew from me entirely. The distance between us grew, his cool and unreadable demeanor leaving me with more questions than answers. Was he avoiding me because of the kiss—or was there something more?

Howard’s absence, however, gave me time to bond with Blaire. She was the light in the mansion’s ever-present shadows. Her resilience and curiosity captivated me, and I found myself wanting to bridge the gap between us.

One quiet morning, I took the leap. As Blaire stacked her blocks, I softly said, “Hello.”

Her wide-eyed shock froze her in place, but as I smiled and signed, her delight was contagious. I told her my voice was a secret, one she had to keep. She promised with a vigorous nod, and for the first time in years, I felt a connection that eased the ache in my chest.

That connection was tested one afternoon when Blaire slipped on a block. I lunged, catching her just in time, a cry of her name escaping my lips. Relief flooded me—until I looked up and saw Howard in the doorway, his face a mask of shock.

“You can talk,” he said, his voice low and sharp.

Blaire’s small hands clung to me, her wide eyes darting between us as Howard rolled closer. His gaze was like a blade, cutting through every excuse I wanted to make.

“How long?” he demanded.

I swallowed hard. “Always.”

His expression darkened. “Your father made you stay silent, didn’t he?”

I nodded, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“And you never thought to trust me with this?” His tone softened, but the disappointment in his voice hit harder than anger ever could.

Blaire signed something, her small hands pleading for peace. Howard exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. “This isn’t over, Clover,” he said firmly. “But Blaire comes first.”

That night, as I lay tangled in guilt and confusion, a knock startled me.

“Come with me,” Howard’s voice called through the door, steady and commanding.

I followed him down the dim corridors, my heart pounding with every step. His office felt colder than usual, the shadows clinging to the corners like secrets.

“Talk,” he said as soon as the door shut.

I hesitated. “I didn’t think you’d trust me if I spoke,” I admitted.

“Trust isn’t built on lies,” he snapped, then softened. “But it’s not irreparable either.”

His tone shifted suddenly, cutting through the tension. “The kiss was for Tanya to see,” he explained, his words a dagger to my chest. “She needed to know I’ve moved on. That’s all.”

I nodded, my voice steady despite the ache. “I understand.”

Howard’s gaze hardened, as though steeling himself for what came next. “Tanya and I were fated mates,” he began, his words sending a chill down my spine. “But no one could know. Our families were sworn enemies.”

Over the next moments, he unraveled a story of love, betrayal, and heartbreak. Secret meetings, a forbidden pregnancy, and Tanya’s decision to abandon not just him, but Blaire.

“She thought she succeeded in erasing the child,” he said, his voice cold. “But I ensured Blaire survived. I took her and severed all ties with Tanya.”

My mind reeled. Tanya’s bitterness, Howard’s guarded nature—it all made sense now. We were more alike than I’d realized: two people left broken by rejection, yet still standing for what we loved most.

“Why tell me this now?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

Howard’s smirk returned, softer this time. “Because you deserve to know. You’re not just Blaire’s mother. You’re my Luna.”

The weight of his words settled over me like a mantle I wasn’t sure I could bear.

As I turned to leave, Howard’s voice stopped me.

“One more thing,” he said, his tone darker. “Tanya’s visit wasn’t just about me. She’s hiding something—and I intend to find out what it is.”

The intensity in his eyes sent a chill down my spine. Whatever Tanya was hiding, I had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t just threaten Howard’s world—but mine as well.

CLOVER

The air in the Oakshade Pack’s manor was electric, a mix of grandeur and suffocating tension that wrapped around me like a noose. Lucille and Thomas’ wedding was everything I had expected—over-the-top, meticulously planned, and utterly hollow. My lavender gown, carefully chosen by Howard, felt out of place, a cruel joke in the face of my past with the groom.

Howard’s hand rested lightly on my arm as we entered the hall, his sharp eyes scanning the room with a protective intensity. He didn’t need to say it; I knew he was watching for any sign of trouble. The tension between us, forged from secrets and truths that had unraveled over the past few weeks, felt almost comforting now—an anchor in the storm of emotions I was trying to suppress.

Before we could take our seats, a servant approached me hesitantly. “Luna Clover,” she said softly, eyes darting nervously toward Howard, “Lady Lucille has requested your presence in the preparation room.”

Howard’s hand tightened on my arm. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument if I said yes.

I shook my head and signed, I’ll be fine. His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded, his gaze lingering on mine as I followed the servant.

The bride’s preparation room was a gilded cage, every surface shimmering with opulence. Lucille stood in the center, her ivory gown clinging to her like armor, while Margot hovered nearby, a smug smile plastered across her face. Their twin expressions of mockery greeted me before a single word was spoken.

“Clover,” Lucille cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’m so glad you could make it. It must be... difficult for you, attending this wedding.”

I didn’t respond, keeping my expression neutral as I stepped further into the room.

Lucille’s smile widened, her eyes narrowing like a predator sensing weakness. “Do you know why Thomas rejected you?” she asked, her voice low and conspiratorial. “It was me. I told him you weren’t good enough. That you were cursed.”

Margot’s laugh rang out, high and cruel. “And he listened. Poor, mute Clover, left behind while we had our fun.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, but I refused to react. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Lucille stepped closer, her perfume sickly sweet as she leaned in. “We’ve been together ever since. Even before his rejection, I had him wrapped around my finger. And now?” She paused for dramatic effect. “I’m pregnant. Thomas and I are starting a family. Something you’ll never have.”

The words hit like a blow, but I kept my mask in place, my face unreadable. Instead, I met her gaze and signed, Congratulations.

Lucille’s smirk faltered, just for a second, before she recovered. “Run along, then,” she said dismissively. “Your crippled husband is probably waiting.”

Her words echoed in my ears as I left the room, my heart pounding. The hallway felt too small, too quiet, until I saw Howard at the far end, waiting. His sharp gaze softened when it met mine, and he wheeled toward me with a calm that steadied my trembling hands.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low and steady.

I forced a small smile and signed, Nothing important. Let’s get this over with.

Howard didn’t press, but his eyes lingered on mine, as if he could see every crack in the mask I was desperately holding together. Together, we entered the hall, the ceremony already starting.

The doors to the altar opened, and Thomas stood there, waiting. His gaze flicked to me, lingering for a moment too long, and something unreadable passed through his eyes. But it wasn’t his expression that made my heart stop.

Tanya stood among the guests, her posture regal, her gaze sharp and calculating as it swept over Howard and me. A knowing smirk tugged at her lips, her eyes locking on Howard with a gleam of intent.

She was planning something. I could feel it in my bones.

And as the first chords of the wedding march filled the room, I couldn’t help but wonder—was I walking into a celebration or a trap?