interstellar

Unwanted By The Alpha Heir, Marked By The Northern King

Evvie Foreman

I had been courting the Alpha heir for two years, waiting for the day he would finally propose and make me his Luna. But instead of a ring, he calmly informed me that he was using my family's massive financial donation to buy a noble title for my cousin, Carson. "Carson needs this title to be a suitable match for my future mate," he said, expecting me to gratefully accept being relegated to the shadows as a secondary mate. When I returned home, my own father and grandmother didn't defend me. They praised Carson and demanded I accept the humiliation, claiming my mother's vast merchant wealth belonged entirely to their Pack. When my mother and I refused to yield, my father threatened to sever their mate bond and exile my brother and me as hunted, Packless Rogues. For eighteen years, my family's consortium had funded their lavish lifestyle, yet they treated us like nothing more than a vault to be plundered. The man I loved and the family I trusted were willing to destroy my life and my mother's dignity just to feed their own greed and arrogant pride. I didn't shed a single tear. I immediately initiated the liquidation protocol, recalling every asset we had ever loaned them and stripping their grand manor bare to the walls. Then, I packed a priceless mythril sword and sent a letter to the one man who could help me crush them all: the ruthless Wolf of the North.

Werewolf Royalty Female-Centered Dark Romance

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The wrought-iron gates of the Knight Estate swung open, and a scarlet Audi R8, limited edition, swept smoothly along the gravelled drive.

Christian Knight stepped out, immaculate in a tailored charcoal-grey suit.

He shut the car door with controlled force and adjusted his cufflinks, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed his agitation.

Without acknowledging the staff, he strode across the courtyard, past the tiered marble fountain, and towards the grand Italianate façade of the house.

The house steward opened the heavy mahogany door at once.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

“Where is my grandfather?” Christian asked curtly.

“In the drawing room, sir. With Mr. Luke.”

Christian gave a brief nod and proceeded down the corridor.

In the drawing room, Leonard Knight sat opposite his son, Luke, both men sipping espresso and discussing forthcoming acquisitions. The air was calm—almost deliberately so.

Christian entered without ceremony.

“Grandpa, may I ask why I have just learned of an engagement I never agreed to?”

Luke’s head lifted sharply. Leonard, however, merely placed his cup upon its saucer.

“I assumed you would appreciate decisiveness,” he replied mildly.

“Decisiveness?” Christian let out a humourless laugh. “You have arranged my marriage without so much as consulting me.”

His gaze flickered towards his father.

“Surely this concerns my life as much as the company’s.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably but remained silent.

Leonard regarded his grandson steadily.

“If you intend to take the position of CEO of Knight Group, you will marry the young lady I have selected. If you do not, the position shall pass to Jake. He has expressed both readiness and enthusiasm.”

Christian’s composure fractured.

“I have devoted years to getting that role,” he said tightly. “You cannot attach marriage as a condition of employment.”

“I can,” Leonard replied evenly. “And I have.”

Christian exhaled sharply. “I am already in a relationship. You met Lia yourself.”

“I did,” Leonard said. “And I was not impressed.”

A brief silence settled over the room.

“The woman I have chosen for you,” Leo continued, “is accomplished, well-educated, and from a respectable family. She possesses qualities that endure beyond charm and flattery.”

Christian’s voice hardened. “And if I refuse?”

Leonard folded his hands. “Then you forfeit the company, the estate, and any claim to the Knight legacy. You will have two hours to gather your personal belongings. Nothing more.”

Luke rose from his seat. “Father—”

“The decision is made,” Leonard said calmly.

Christian stared at his grandfather, disbelief giving way to wounded pride.

“So that is it? Years of hard work reduced to a transaction.”

“No,” Leonard corrected. “Years of preparation culminating in responsibility.”

Christian straightened.

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