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Mate's VENGEANCE  Novel Cover

Mate's VENGEANCE

I have cast aside my dignity to don a maid's uniform, all for the sake of a cold-blooded vendetta. By infiltrating his estate, I intend to seduce him into ruining his royal engagement and lure his foes to his gate. I will not stop until his entire pack is reduced to ashes. I crave to see the life fade from his storm-grey eyes, just as he once extinguished the light in my mate's eyes. My revenge will be absolute and devastating.
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Chapter 1

The cemetery was empty except for the ghosts.

Sera Blackwood knelt before the fresh grave, her fingers tracing the carved letters of Marcus Ashford's name. Six months. It had been six months since they'd laid him in the cold earth, and the pain still felt like claws ripping through her chest with every breath.

The autumn wind cut through her black coat, scattering dead leaves across the grave like nature's own funeral confetti. She barely felt the cold. She barely felt anything anymore.

"I found out who did it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling trees. "I know who killed you, Marcus."

Inside her mind, there was only silence. Her wolf her beautiful silver-grey wolf who had once been so vibrant, so alive had retreated so deep after Marcus's death that sometimes Sera wondered if she'd ever surface again. The mate bond had snapped like a severed spine the moment Marcus took his last breath, and something fundamental had broken in both halves of her soul.

Where her wolf should have been prowling, snarling, demanding vengeance, there was just... nothing. A hollow void where instinct and connection used to live. Other wolves talked about their animals like separate beings, partners in their consciousness. Sera's wolf had gone silent as a tomb.

Maybe that was fitting. Maybe they were both dead now, just walking corpses pretending to be alive.

She pulled a crumpled manila envelope from her jacket pocket, the edges soft from being handled too many times. It had arrived three weeks ago, slipped under her apartment door in the middle of the night. No return address. No signature. Just evidence.

Photographs. Documents. A single typed note.

Sera's hands trembled as she unfolded the note again, though she'd memorized every word weeks ago:

Your mate discovered something he shouldn't have. The order came from Alpha Kael Stormridge of the Silvermoon Pack. Marcus was asking too many questions about their border operations. I'm sorry I can't come forward-they'd kill me too. But you deserve to know the truth. He didn't die in a rogue attack. He was assassinated. On the Alpha's orders.

The photographs spilled into her lap. Marcus, her beautiful Marcus, lying in that alley in a pool of his own blood. The coroner had called it a rogue attack quick, brutal, the kind of violence that happened sometimes when lone wolves went feral. Random. Meaningless.

But these photos told a different story. The positioning of the wounds. The precision of the kill. The way the scene had been staged to look like animal violence when it was clearly execution.

And there, in one photo, barely visible in the background a figure walking away. Too blurry to identify clearly, but the accompanying document had enhanced it, analyzed it, broken it down with cold, clinical efficiency.

Six foot two. Approximate weight 210 pounds. Gait pattern consistent with Alpha-dominant werewolf. Scent markers detected at scene match Silvermoon Pack territory markers. Method of kill consistent with professional pack enforcers.

"Alpha Kael Stormridge."

Sera had spent three weeks researching him. Learning everything she could about the man who'd stolen her entire world. He was powerful, feared, respected. Alpha of one of the strongest packs in the northwestern territories. His pack controlled valuable mountain territory, had strategic alliances, commanded loyalty from nearly three hundred wolves.

He was also about to enter an arranged mating with Celeste Ravencroft, daughter of the prestigious Ravencroft Pack. The ceremony was scheduled for six weeks from now-a grand celebration that would unite two powerful families and create an alliance that would make Silvermoon virtually untouchable.

Political marriage. No love, just strategy.

That was his weakness.

"A mate for a mate," Sera said, her voice hardening as she looked at Marcus's headstone. "That's the law of our kind, isn't it? Life for life. Love for love. You took everything from me, so I'll take everything from you."

The plan had crystallized slowly over the past three weeks, forming like ice in her chest where her heart used to be. She couldn't just kill Kael Stormridge-that would be too quick, too clean. Death was a mercy, and he deserved none.

No, she needed to destroy him completely. Strip away everything he valued. Make him suffer the way she'd suffered. Make him understand what it felt like to lose everything.

And she knew exactly how to do it.

"I'm going to seduce him," Sera told Marcus's grave, her amber eyes hard and cold. "I'm going to make him want me. Make him need me. Make him fall so deeply in love with me that he can't imagine his life without me."

She stood, brushing dirt from her knees, her hands steady now with purpose.

"I'll make him break his arranged mating. Celeste Ravencroft will be humiliated, her family insulted. The alliance will crumble. And while he's distracted, while he's weak and vulnerable, focused on me instead of his pack..." She smiled, and it felt like a knife slash across her face. "That's when his enemies will strike."

She'd already made contact with the Shadow Wolves-Alpha Dante's pack, who'd been testing Silvermoon's borders for years, looking for any weakness to exploit. Dante had been surprisingly receptive when Sera had reached out through carefully anonymous channels. He wanted Silvermoon's territory. She wanted Kael destroyed.

Their goals aligned perfectly.

But Sera had made one thing clear from the start: this was her revenge, her plan, her timeline. She wasn't working for Dante. She was working with him. She would provide intelligence, create the opening, ensure Kael was vulnerable. And when the time came, the Shadow Wolves would attack during the mating ceremony itself-when the estate would be full of guests, when security would be focused on celebration rather than defense, when Kael would be at his most exposed.

"He'll lose everything in one night," Sera continued, her voice steady despite the hollow ache in her chest. "His mate me. His alliance broken. His pack attacked. His territory taken. His life..." She paused, considering. "Maybe I'll let him live. Let him survive, broken and defeated, knowing he lost everything. Let him feel what I feel every single day."

The wind picked up, colder now, and the first drops of rain began to fall. Sera reached into her other pocket and pulled out a small silver ring. Marcus's ring. The one he'd worn since the day they'd recognized each other as mates.

She pressed it to her lips, tasting salt from tears she didn't remember shedding.

"I'll need to change everything," she said softly. "My appearance, my identity, my entire life. I've already dyed my hair you wouldn't recognize me now, love. Brown instead of blonde. I'll become someone else. Someone forgettable. Someone a powerful Alpha would never look at twice."

She paused, throat tight.

"Until I want him to look."

The rain came harder now, cold drops mixing with her tears. Sera placed the ring gently on top of the headstone, next to the fresh flowers she'd brought.

"I've already applied for a position at his estate. Maid. Servant. Something that gets me inside, gets me close. Elder Moira, his head housekeeper, is reviewing applications this week. I made sure my references are impeccable false, but impeccable."

She traced Marcus's name one last time, memorizing the feel of the carved letters under her fingertips.

"I know how men work, Marcus. Especially powerful men. Especially lonely men trapped in loveless arrangements. They're visual creatures. They crave warmth, genuine connection, someone who sees them as more than their position. Kael Stormridge is lonely everyone says so. Distant. Professional. Closed off. Perfect."

Her smile was bitter.

"I'll be soft where Celeste is hard. Warm where she's cold. I'll understand his pain, his loss-his first mate died when they were teenagers, did you know that? Thirteen years ago, and people say he never really got over it. I'll use that. I'll make him think I'm the only one who truly understands him."

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