My Fated Mate Is the Alpha King

Synopsis

As the lowest-ranked low-born wolf in the Crescent Pack, Sylvia was already eighteen years old, yet she still hadn't awakened her wolf form. In the werewolf world, she was written off as wolf-less: good-for-nothing trash born to be pushed around, looked down on, and stuck at the bottom. Kaelen Nightshade, the Alpha King, sat high up on the obsidian throne. Thirty-seven rows of seats lay between them, not to mention the huge class divide and all the inferiority she'd built up over eighteen years. She only dared to imagine what he looked like in her mind. Sylvia fished her phone out of her apron pocket, dimming the screen as low as it would go. She texted: [Darling, show me your abs.] Then she added a leering face emoji. The moment the message was sent, the front of the hall went dead silent. Sylvia instinctively looked up, only to see her WhatsApp chat suddenly pop up on the massive projection screen that had been showing the financial reports. There was the text: [Darling, show me your abs.] A leering face emoji followed the text. The sender's profile pic was a tiny silver wolf curled up by the moon. Sylvia's mind went blank, and her blood ran cold in an instant. She knew that profile pic, that tone, and that emoji all too well. Then, Kaelen, who was sitting on the throne, picked up his phone. His long fingers tapped lightly across the screen. Kaelen lifted his eyes and glanced over the crowd below. His voice was low and lazy, echoing across the hall. "Honey, I'll show you later."