Third Person POV
The shadows were his home, the places where the light dared not touch. He moved like a phantom, soundless and invisible, his presence nothing more than a whisper lost in the grand corridors of the palace. The high walls and ornate tapestries of King Vaden’s stronghold were nothing to him; they could not protect the man who had stolen everything.
Vaden had never been meant to find her.
The thought simmered in his mind, its bitterness curling his lips into a sneer. An omega. Of all creatures, the mighty Werewolf King had chosen an omega as his mate—a fragile, docile thing whose scent was intoxicatingly sweet, sickeningly pure. A mate who would stand by his side, softening his brutal edges, making him even more dangerous than before.
The King’s vulnerability was a weapon
