Miraharlson

The war between humans, witches, vampires, and dragons was over before it even began. Humans never stood a chance. Now, the survivors are nothing more than slaves, and those born powerless—wolves, witches, and vampires alike—are treated no better.

Olivia is a Stealer Wolf, cursed with a scent that drives male wolves mad with desire. In a world where power is everything, she has none. Worse still, she is mute, abandoned by her own family, and claimed by an Alpha who sees her as nothing more than a plaything. To him, she is weak. To others, she is nothing. But Olivia refuses to break.

Akila was meant to rule. As the last heir to the witch kingdom of Glasgow, she had power, purpose, and a future—until the night she made a terrible mistake. She saved a wounded man, not realizing he was a Dragon King in disguise. By morning, her village lay in ashes, her people slaughtered. Stripped of her magic, she is sold to the very monster she once saved.

Two women. Betrayed. Powerless. Trapped in a world that seeks to crush them.

But they are not broken.

Together, they will rise. Or die trying.

The wicked alpha’s mute bride: Train me Master, choose me

Devon wondered what she would ask for. As he did, his golden eyes locked onto her—unblinking, unwavering. He willed her to look up, to meet his gaze, to give him something—anything—that would reveal what churned behind those dark lashes. But she didn't.

Olivia's eyes were fixed elsewhere, trained on his throat, watching the slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. A wave of uncertainty brewed within her, a relentless tide pulling her thoughts in conflicting directions. What should she ask for? What could she ask for?

She tried to smile, but it faltered, crumbling under the weight of his presence and the looming certainty that she would soon run out of time before his patience wore thin.

Devon was not a man who waited for others—his patience ran thinner than the mist that curled around the towering spires of the palace at dawn. And yet, here he was, waiting.

"I..." She started to gesture, then hesitated, her fingers beginning to move before faltering.

36. Make a will make you mine.