Lenaleia

A fated bond that could kill her.
A king who’d rather let her die than crave her.

Violet isn’t just an outsider in her wolf pack—she’s a ghost. Raised by a traitorous Alpha and discarded by the mate she thought she knew, she flees into the night with a death sentence on her heels. Freedom is her only hope... until she crashes into ​​Asher.

The ​​Lycan King​​ is a blade forged in ice and shadow. He rules with absolute ruthlessness, haunted by a past that devours mercy. When Violet collapses at his feet, his instinct isn’t salvation—it’s annihilation. Because the moment their skin brushes, a searing, unwanted bond ignites between them.

​​And this bond doesn't just burn—it bleeds.​

She never wanted a king.
He never needed a weakness.
But fate demands blood… and the first cut might save—or slaughter—them both.

Bloodbound to the Lycan King

The house Griffin leads me to is no different from the others.


Griffin pushes the door open without knocking. No courtesy, not even a perfunctory tap. Interesting.


Inside feels bare, even more than a model home. There are no photos. No art. Nothing personal. Even Merrick's pretentious display of wealth had some semblance of life to it. This place resembles a vacant rental property.


Wolf-Eye emerges from what must be the kitchen with Victoria trailing behind. His shoulder brushes against hers, a short-lived point of contact, and it speaks volumes. The faint whiff of her scent clings to him.


He catches my eye and winks, that insufferable smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.


"Where are the other two?" I ask Wolf-Eye, scanning the barren living room.


"Upstairs." Wolf-Eye jerks his thumb toward the ceiling. "The wizard doesn't like being around shifters. Gets the shakes." He drops his voice to a mock whisper. "I think we scare him."


Chapter 67