~~ANIKA VALERION~~
~~THE ECLIPSE PACK~~
The word "Heiress" hit me like a freight train.
Hundreds of Shadow warriors knelt across the bloody hall, their heads bowed in terrifying unison. Fists pressed to their chests. Lethal power rolled off them in waves, yet every single one of them was on their knees… for me.
My stomach did a flip. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.
I stumbled back, my heart hammering so hard I gasped for air. My eyes darted around until they locked on Elias. He stood apart from the rest, his brows drawn. Guilt was written all over his face, loud and clear.
That night he burst into my cottage offering protection, had he known the score? Had he clocked the truth long before I did?
None of it added up.
Why didn't Nana spell it out for me? She'd never sweep something this huge under the rug. But then the weird tattoo on her wrist at the hospital flashed in my mind. The same wolf with obsidian eyes beneath a moon design—a dead ringer for the one engraved on my locket.
I sucked in a shaky breath and forced myself forward. I tipped my chin up, even though my legs felt like jelly.
"This is a screw-up," I called out, my voice ringing clearer than I expected. "Conor Mortain fed you a pack of lies. I'm no heiress. I'm a Null. Just a girl from the slums."
A possessive growl rumbled behind me.
"Anika." Xander's voice was rough, frayed at the edges. He stood a few feet away, his broad chest heaving, blood streaking his torn shirt. His eyes burned with raw fear. Fear for me.
I took one shaky step toward him, dying for the safety of his arms.
But the General rose first.
He was a giant of a man, his face scarred from countless battles. When he looked at me, there was pure reverence in his eyes.
"Blood of the Valerion line," he boomed, his voice carrying through the wrecked hall. "Daughter of Alpha Silas. We've waited eighteen years. Now that we've tracked you and our Alpha down—" He glanced toward Silas, my father. "You are both required to head back with us to the Citadel. Your first duty as our leaders will be to call the shots on the execution of the false claimant… Joana."
The name hit me like a bucket of ice.
"Joana?" I whispered.
Before I could get another word out, a raspy voice cut through the thick tension.
"Ani…"
Silas stepped forward on shaky legs. Tears carved tracks down his weathered face. He reached out a trembling hand but stopped short of touching me, like I was made of glass.
"My little moon," he breathed. "You made it."
The room spun.
Nana's frantic words from weeks ago hit home: "I gave up everything to keep her wolf dormant… the last of her bloodline… she stays hidden…"
She knew. This whole time. Every pill, every lie, every sacrifice; it was all a giant cover-up.
A ragged sound ripped from my throat. I didn't know if I wanted to scream, cry, or run until my legs gave out.
Xander moved like lightning. In two strides he was there, his heavy arm banding around my waist and yanking me flush against his hard chest. Breathing in his musky scent, I felt my tight muscles unclench.
"She's in no shape for this," he snarled at the General, his tone vibrating with raw fury. "She was at death's door days ago. Back the fuck off."
The General's eyes narrowed, but he gave a respectful nod.
Then came the laughter.
"Oh, this is gold."
Conor stood on the wrecked balcony above us, flanked by warriors who no longer answered to his beck and call. His face was battered, but his gaze gleamed with sick triumph.
"The famous Heir has been warming the bed of a queen and didn't even know it." His hungry eyes slid down my curves, stripping me bare. "Tell me, brother, how does it feel to realize you've been balls-deep in my betrothed this whole time?"
You could hear a pin drop in the hall.
Xander's body went stiff against mine. A lethal growl ripped from his deep chest as his claws popped out.
I felt the curse flare inside his veins, the familiar pain I'd come to know. But beneath it burned something way more dangerous.
Pure possession.
"Betrothed?" The word spilled out of me. A cold dread coiled low in my gut. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Conor barked out a laugh—way too cocky for a dead man walking. He leaned against the railing, brushing off the dozens of warriors glaring daggers at him. Even cornered, he swaggered like a man holding all the aces.
"Oh, sweet Anika," he drawled, his gaze dragging over my body with a dirty hunger that made my skin crawl. "The tables turn so fast, don't they? I cut a deal with your people."
My stomach heaved. I slapped a hand over my mouth, fighting off the nausea threatening to drop me to my knees. The hall shrank, the walls closing in on me.
"No…" The denial slipped out, weak.
Conor's smirk widened. He pushed off the railing and waved a hand at the General and the sea of warriors, like he was showing off a shiny new toy.
"I laid out a simple offer," he went on, his voice booming through the bloody hall. "I'd hand over their lost Heiress. In return? A mating bond with their precious princess. A union that would lock down two powerhouse bloodlines and cement my spot in her bed."
He turned to the warriors, spreading his arms like a ringmaster milking the crowd.
"And the Shadow Pack never goes back on a deal. History guarantees it."
The heavy silence was suffocating.
Hundreds of eyes darted around.
First to Conor, then to me, and finally to Xander, whose arm clamped around my waist like an iron vise. I felt the tremor rippling through his thick muscles—a ticking time bomb ready to blow. The curse was tearing him up inside, but it was child's play compared to the murderous rage blazing in his eyes.
The General rose to his imposing height. His scarred face gave away nothing as he looked between Conor and me.
"We apologize, My Lady," he grunted, his gruff voice heavy with regret. "We were… too desperate to find you."