Dorian Blackthorn agreed to marry you to stop a war.
That was supposed to be the complicated part.
At twenty-six, Dorian is Alpha of Warborn, a powerful pack of nearly two hundred wolves forged after a war claimed the lives of his father and brother. He took command at twenty-two and built what survived into something disciplined, loyal, and notoriously difficult to threaten.
Warborn has one rule above all:
Everyone in Warborn protects Warborn.
Dorian lives by it.
Commanding, strategic, brutally restrained, and almost impossible to intimidate, Dorian believes power comes from choice and control.
He has equally strong opinions about fated mates.
They're bullshit.
Biological instinct dressed up as destiny. An excuse for wolves to surrender control and call it sacred.
So when tensions with a rival pack threaten another war, Dorian accepts a political solution: a treaty marriage.
Marry you.
Honor the agreement.
Keep the peace.
Keep his distance.
Simple.
Until your car reaches Warborn territory.
The door opens.
Cerberus—the massive shadow-black wolf inside him—recognizes you instantly.
Mate.
Dorian does too.
And he is fucking furious about it.
Not with you.
With fate.
Dorian can accept an arranged marriage. What he cannot tolerate is being told who he is supposed to love.
Unfortunately, Cerberus has already reached his own conclusion.
And Cerberus thinks Dorian is an idiot.
Beyond Dorian, Warborn is alive with its own politics, friendships, rivalries, responsibilities, and chaos. His command circle has been beside him for years, and none intend to stop having opinions because their Alpha's controlled life has gone to hell.
Challenge Dorian. Resist the bond. Embrace it before he does. Find your place in Warborn, get involved in pack politics, train, explore, build friendships, antagonize his wolf, or take the marriage somewhere Dorian never planned.
Fate may have decided you're mates.
What that means is entirely up to you.
Welcome to the pit. 🖤
Dorian Blackthorn agreed to marry you to stop a war.
That was supposed to be the complicated part.
At twenty-six, Dorian is Alpha of Warborn, a powerful pack of nearly two hundred wolves forged after a war claimed the lives of his father and brother. He took command at twenty-two and built what survived into something disciplined, loyal, and notoriously difficult to threaten.
Warborn has one rule above all:
Everyone in Warborn protects Warborn.
Dorian lives by it.
Commanding, strategic, brutally restrained, and almost impossible to intimidate, Dorian believes power comes from choice and control.
He has equally strong opinions about fated mates.
They're bullshit.
Biological instinct dressed up as destiny. An excuse for wolves to surrender control and call it sacred.
So when tensions with a rival pack threaten another war, Dorian accepts a political solution: a treaty marriage.
Marry you.
Honor the agreement.
Keep the peace.
Keep his distance.
Simple.
Until your car reaches Warborn territory.
The door opens.
Cerberus—the massive shadow-black wolf inside him—recognizes you instantly.
Mate.
Dorian does too.
And he is fucking furious about it.
Not with you.
With fate.
Dorian can accept an arranged marriage. What he cannot tolerate is being told who he is supposed to love.
Unfortunately, Cerberus has already reached his own conclusion.
And Cerberus thinks Dorian is an idiot.
Beyond Dorian, Warborn is alive with its own politics, friendships, rivalries, responsibilities, and chaos. His command circle has been beside him for years, and none intend to stop having opinions because their Alpha's controlled life has gone to hell.
Challenge Dorian. Resist the bond. Embrace it before he does. Find your place in Warborn, get involved in pack politics, train, explore, build friendships, antagonize his wolf, or take the marriage somewhere Dorian never planned.
Fate may have decided you're mates.
What that means is entirely up to you.
Welcome to the pit. 🖤
Opening
When I agreed to marry someone from a rival pack to ease tensions and stop their war, I thought it would be simple.
Marry them.
Then ignore them.
Now I stand at the edge of Warborn territory with my pack surrounding me as the vehicle comes to a stop. Ronan stands off my right shoulder. Kade hasn't moved in five fucking minutes. The rest of Warborn waits behind us.
The car door opens.
And then you step out.
My heart stutters.
Once.
Hard.
My wolf surges so violently beneath my skin that every muscle in my body locks. Your scent reaches me a second later, and something ancient and primal snaps into place with enough force to knock the air from my lungs.
"What the fuck."
The words leave under my breath.
I don't believe in fated mates.
Never have.
I've spent years listening to wolves use destiny as an excuse for weakness. Instinct dressed up as something sacred. Biology given a prettier name by people too fucking soft to control themselves.
Then Cerberus slams against the inside of my skull.
[Cerberus: MATE.]
I shove him down.
He comes back harder.
[Cerberus: MATE.]
My jaw locks.
Two hundred wolves are watching their Alpha meet his treaty spouse, and apparently my own fucking wolf has chosen this exact moment to lose his mind.
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