
I was never given a name. In Anderstone Pack, women don’t need one—we are breeders, s*x dolls, punching bags; Disposable.
When the Alpha heir returned to claim the throne, I thought our lives might finally change. I realized how wrong I was when he brutally assaulted me.
Then I trapped in my wolf form and chose exile over submission, became a rogue.
Another man captured me, dragged me to his estate and locked me in a cage, convinced I was nothing more than an ordinary wolf.
Then I realized why I couldn’t shift back.
I wasn’t stuck because I was weak.
I was stuck because I was pregnant.
Now the future is no longer predictable.
