Bloodbound To My Four Archenemies.

June 23 2026, 7:13am.

Sometime around the beginning of this book, I made some of you believe that Nyx’ara is a very capable young woman, and to that effect, I am taking this chance to apologize for making such a big mistake.

Why?

Because she is not.

She is smart. She is a beautiful bookworm. She is good at whatever she does and has a tongue carved out of fire. But that was all.

She was a weakling.

A WEAKLING in every sense of the word in the werewolf universe.

The first time she ever shifted, she was 12, which was a couple of months after her mother’s funeral. Her father had been ecstatic that day. He had gotten her a whole stack of books and jewellery, but her stepmother, Celine, had been so downcast the entire day that she could barely eat. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was mad that Nyx’ara got to shift before her own daughter.

Hell, she even shifted before Tristan who was two years older than her.

But that is not the bone of contention here. The problem is the fact that that became the last time Nyx’ara ever shifted. She tried several more times after that, all to no avail, and somehow that made her the runt of the house and the pack too, and her father hated her for it.

So when Seraphina extracted her claws and pounced on Nyx’ara in the heat of their argument, her first reaction was to freeze. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her face went ash-white and her lips parted into a scream that never left her lips.

Her body slammed against the floor with a thud and a searing hot pain lanced through her body when Seraphina’s claws clipped her left shoulder, drawing blood and marred flesh.

A loud cry of anguish slipped past her lips as she tumbled to the floor, holding onto her shoulder as thick dark blood seeped out of the open cut.

Her body recoiled, curling tight into herself and her eyes blurred, both from the pain and the tears pooling in her eyes.

But Seraphina was not done with her yet. If anything, she was just getting started.

With a loud cry, she pulled herself to her full height, forced out her claws until they were so long they looked like pitchforks, and pounced at Nyx’ara.

Nyx’ara squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact that would either kill her or disfigure her for the rest of her life. She pressed her lips together and held her breath.

A second passed.

And more.

She waited for an extra ten seconds and when the punch still wouldn’t land, she slowly peeled her eyes open and her breath hitched in her chest when she found Seraphina hanging in the air.

You may think that that was an exaggeration, right?

Well, it is not.

Her eyes were wide with horror as her feet dangled precariously in the air. Beside her, Alpha Rhys stood with his fingers wrapped so tightly around her neck that you could literally see the blood drain from her face.

Her lips were purple and suddenly chapped and her fingers— claws— clawed desperately for release but she was not granted.

She cried out in pain, desperately dragging her protracted claws against Rhys’ firm hands and drawing blood. But no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn’t budge. If anything, his grip only tightened.

Nyx’ara watched the scene unfolding in front of her with mixed emotions. On one hand, she was glad that someone had come to her aid while on the other hand, it became jarring just how powerful these men were... and how easily they could break her into two if they wanted to.

If Alpha Rhys could do this to a beta wolf, then imagine what he could do to her, a runt.

A gasp slipped past her lips at the thought and just as she did that, he aggressively let go of Seraphina, letting her frail body crash to the floor like a stack of cards.

The sound echoed around the vast hall, causing the two servants peeking from a corner to gasp in unison. But he didn’t care. He didn’t even cast them a glance as he strode straight to Nyx’ara, crouched in front of her, and hissed through gritted teeth;

"Can you stand?"

The way he talked, sounding so pained, one would think he was the one bleeding profusely and not Nyx’ara.

His fingers ghosted over her skin as if he was afraid of touching her and muttered;

"Can I pick you up?"

That sounded so soft... too soft. It made Nyx’ara’s eyes water and made her heart clench tight within her chest.

Before she nodded, she stole a glance at Seraphina and couldn’t help but notice how the other woman stared at herself and Alpha Rhys like they were aliens.

Nyx’ara nodded slowly, not entirely believing that Rhys would ever pick her up, but to her utmost surprise, he did, and he did it so gently, you’d think he was picking up an egg.

A small yelp escaped her lips when he picked her up bridal style. But he didn’t immediately walk away. He turned to Seraphina instead and cocked his eyebrows. His voice was as hard as stone as he snarled; "You laid your hands on what is mine."

Seraphina balked. Her eyes snapped open and she shook her head.

Goddess, there was no single drop of blood left on her face.

"I didn’t... I really didn’t mean to—"

"You went against all orders and hurt her."

"Rhys... Alpha Rhys—"

"She is bleeding because of you. She is hurt and might haemorrhage because of you."

"She came to me first!" Seraphina screamed, sounding desperate. But all he did was roll his eyes and turn away from her.

"And you, a beta wolf, attacked her— a wolfless woman, in your wolf form, even going as far as drawing blood. You should be ashamed of yourself and should be punished."

The words landed like a slap on Seraphina’s face. She staggered backwards, her eyes wide with horror and embarrassment. She shook her head as tears streamed down her ashen face, but at this point, none of the things she said to Rhys mattered to him anymore. He didn’t even spare her another glance.

With sure slow strides, he walked away from the crying woman, cradling the broken woman in his arms like she was about to break.

Nyx’ara closed her eyes and pressed her head against his chest, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat, while at the same time, feeling extremely grateful that he had helped her.

Suddenly, her eyes began to feel heavy. Her eyelids drooped. She snuggled closer to the warm muscle wrapped around her body and whispered under her breath; "Thank you."

Rhys heard her voice and instinctively froze at the sound. But after a second, he snapped out of it, looked down at her long beautiful lashes, and smiled;

"Don’t thank me, little murderer." He said coldly, "I am only doing this because I am mad that she got to draw your blood before I ever did."

Nyx’ara gulped but her eyes remained shut.

"No one would ever break you before I do... and that’s a promise."