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Glass Wolves and War Songs

20

20

Jun 02, 2025

I didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

He stood only a few feet away, that strange, almost delicate beauty glowing under the artificial lights. His eyes never left mine — unblinking, curious, with a softness that made my skin itch.

I could feel the bond now, live wire under my skin. A phantom tug in my chest pulling me toward him. My wolf — no, Nyx — was practically vibrating with need.

“Ours,” she whispered, awestruck. “Ours, Rhea. Please, please touch him. He’s so soft-looking—”

I swallowed hard and squeezed my hands into fists at my sides.

Not here.

Not like this.

Not with him in the room.

Because the man who brought me here had stepped in behind me, unhurried, hands clasped casually behind his back as he strolled toward the omega like he was inspecting a piece of art.

“He’s taken well to the aesthetic grooming,” the man said lightly, gesturing toward the boy—my mate—like he was a showroom model. “We’ve been tweaking his mannerisms, trying to create a more docile energy. He was a bit too curious at first, but the recalibration worked wonders.”

I clenched my jaw, barely resisting the urge to snarl.

The boy—no, the omega—flinched slightly when the man reached out and touched his hair, fingers sliding through snowy strands like he had every right. His expression didn’t change. Blank. Trained.

But I saw it.

The flicker.

The way his fingers tensed slightly at his sides.

My heart thundered.

The man kept talking. “You’ll be spending most of your days here. We want to observe your interactions, so cameras are active at all times. Don’t try anything cute.”

He circled the omega now, slow, predatory.

“He’s very impressionable,” he continued. “Which is why your behavior matters. Every word you say, every gesture — he’ll pick it up. Mimic it. Learn from it. Think of him as… emotional clay.”

I didn’t respond. My nails bit into my palms.

Then the man crossed a line he shouldn't have.

He stepped in close, trailing a finger along the omega’s jaw. Then down his throat. Then—

I forced my voice to work. “How often will the observation sessions take place?”

The man paused mid-motion, his fingers hovering just at the omega’s lower back. He turned his head slightly toward me.

“Excuse me?” he asked, brows lifted.

I met his eyes evenly. “If I’m going to be teaching him emotional expression, I need to know the schedule. And what kind of data you’re tracking.”

Nyx growled in the back of my head. “Coward.”

Survivor, I thought back grimly.

The man stared at me for a beat longer, then chuckled, withdrawing his hand.

“Touched a nerve, did I? – The schedule will be delivered to you.” he said, low.

I didn’t speak. I didn’t trust myself to.

Behind me, the omega hadn’t moved. Just watched. Quiet. Like he was studying a new animal in his enclosure.

The man chuckled softly. “Well, well. This might be more interesting than I thought.”

He stepped back and straightened his collar.

“Just remember your job, girl. We’ll be watching – You have on hour right now.”

Then he left, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss.

Silence.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and turned—slowly—toward the omega.

He blinked up at me, head tilted slightly. That same unreadable expression on his face. Unafraid. Gentle.

He didn’t know.

Didn’t know what he was. What I was. What any of this meant.

And gods help me, I didn’t know how to explain it either.

My mate.

My mate.

Manufactured.

Owned.

And still—still—mine.

I sat down carefully, leaving space between us, heart still thudding in my chest like a war drum.

He mirrored me, kneeling with perfect poise.

And then—

He smiled.

Soft. Curious. Trusting.

Nyx whimpered in my mind.

I didn’t return the smile.

I couldn’t.

I just sat there, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get us both out of this alive.

ravenchannn
raven-chan

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Glass Wolves and War Songs
Glass Wolves and War Songs

6.4k views90 subscribers

Rhea Nyx was supposed to have her forever. A mate bond. A pack. A future. But forever shattered the day he walked away, leaving her broken, pregnant, and alone in a sterile hospital room that didn’t care if she lived or died.

Now, she’s just surviving. Barely. Until a little girl with too-big eyes and too much hope drags her into something like a second chance. Rhea doesn't believe in second chances. Not anymore.

But when the people she's grown to protect are threatened, Rhea does what wolves do best—she fights back. Hard. And just when she thinks she's got nothing left to lose, she meets him. Her second chance mate.

Only… he’s not just a man. He’s a hybrid. A set toy. Built in a lab, owned by monsters, trained to obey. And yet—he looks at her like she’s the only real thing in the world.

Now Rhea has to make a choice. Burn it all down, or become the very thing that could break her mate.
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