Author’s pov

Esma lay in bed that night, reviewing the next day’s plan. She wished her head felt better. The talisman had taken a toll on her health. The witches and their magic didn’t suit the werewolves.

She had already taken the aspirin, but the throbbing was worse. She was perspiring, and the room seemed unbearably hot. Her heart felt heavy. Sleep have somehow left her eyelids.

She turned sidewards to look at the reason of her sleepless nights. The most tyrant, ruthless, merciless, a self-proclaimed wolf prince who thought he had no heart. The cursed Alpha. Her mate. As if in cue, the man snored lightly.

She set the...