She Beat the Alpha King at His Favorite Game — But She Had No Idea Who the Wolf Really Was

Ren Hollis had never seen a wolf look so offended.

She lifted her face from the rain barrel with a small black apple clenched triumphantly between her teeth, water streaming down her chin and soaking the collar of her dress. Across from her, a massive black wolf pulled his dripping head from the second barrel with absolutely nothing in his jaws.

Three rounds.

Three apples for Ren.

Zero for him.

She burst into laughter, gripping the barrel because her knees had nearly given way.

The wolf sneezed, shook water across the frost-covered grass, and stared at her as though she had personally wounded his dignity.

What Ren did not know was that the enormous animal standing in her orchard was not an ordinary wolf.

He was Rydian Black Fern, Alpha King of the Northern Reach, a warrior feared across four territories, a wolf who had ended border wars and hunted rogues across frozen rivers.

And for the last three days, he had been deliberately losing to her.

Because every time Ren laughed, something inside the ruthless king softened.

He had come to her orchard intending to stay one night.

Instead, he had stayed three days.

Then four.

Then five.

And now, on Hallows’ Eve, as Ren reached for another apple, the king silently realized something terrifying.

He no longer wanted to leave.

But before dawn, Ren was going to discover that her ridiculous, affectionate wolf had been hiding a secret far more dangerous than she could imagine.

What would you do if the lonely wolf you trusted with your heart turned out to be the most powerful man in the entire kingdom?

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The Wolf Brought Her Gifts, Stole Her Scarf… and Then the Real King Appeared

Ren had always believed that being forgotten was safer than being noticed.

After losing her parents to fever six years earlier, she had been quietly pushed to the edge of the Black Fern pack. Nobody had banished her, but nobody invited her anywhere either. So she built a life around her orchard, her cider, her animals, and the stubborn little patch of land that still belonged to her family.

Then the wolf arrived.

He was enormous, injured, filthy, and apparently incapable of staying away.

Ren called him Barl.

She bathed him, fed him stew, scratched the spot behind his ear, and eventually allowed him to sleep beside her bed. The wolf repaid her with stolen hams, ribbons, rabbits, and one morning, her mother’s lavender scarf.

Ren never realized that every gift came from a king.

Rydian had fallen hopelessly in love with the woman who treated him like an oversized farm dog, and he was beginning to believe he could keep his secret forever.

Then Ren went to the autumn market.

The Alpha King appeared in his human form, and when his golden eyes met hers, her heart stumbled.

He bought an entire barrel of cider.

He knew her roof leaked.

He knew she lived alone.

He knew far too much.

And then Prince Dain of Eastridge arrived, openly flirting with Ren and offering her land, workers, and a new life.

Rydian’s restraint finally snapped.

In front of the entire court, he declared that Ren and her orchard were under royal protection.

Ren stared at him in disbelief.

She had no idea why the king cared so much.

But that night, someone else came to her orchard.

Lady Sable, the woman everyone expected Rydian to marry, arrived alone and warned Ren that the council was planning something dangerous.

Ren listened.

Then she waited for her wolf to come home.

He never did.

And two nights later, flames appeared beyond her bedroom window.

When the orchard begins to burn and the wolf she loves suddenly disappears, will Ren discover the truth before the fire takes everything from her?

She Thought Her Wolf Had Betrayed Her — Until the Alpha King Knelt Before Everyone

Ren woke to the smell of smoke.

For several seconds, she could not understand what she was hearing. Then the goose began screaming, Turnip scratched frantically beneath the porch, and orange light flickered against the bedroom wall.

The orchard was burning.

Ren moved before fear could stop her.

She threw open the low window, freed the animals, grabbed the water bucket, and ran toward the press house. Flames were already climbing the wooden walls, devouring beams that had stood for seventy years.

Four wolves waited in the smoke.

They were rogues, paid in silver by someone who wanted the orchard gone and its keeper gone with it.

One of them caught Ren by the hair before she could reach the well.

Then the night split apart with a sound so violent that even the flames seemed to hesitate.

The black wolf came over the fence.

Not through the gate.

Over it.

His paws struck the frozen ground with enough force to scatter burning embers, and when he lifted his head, Ren saw something she had never seen in Barl before.

His eyes were gold.

Not warm gold.

Royal gold.

The rogues recognized him immediately.

One whispered, “Black Fern.”

Another ran.

It did not matter.

The wolf moved with terrifying speed, crossing the orchard in seconds. One rogue went down beneath his claws. Another was thrown against the stone well. A third raised a silver blade, only to have the black wolf knock him into the snow.

The fourth slashed wildly.

The silver caught the wolf across the shoulder.

Ren screamed.

She ran toward him without thinking.

And that was when the impossible happened.

The black wolf shifted.

Fur became skin. Bone reshaped beneath the firelight. The enormous beast poured upward into the form of a man, and suddenly Ren was staring at the same golden eyes she had seen at the market.

The same eyes that had frightened her.

The same eyes that had haunted her dreams.

The same eyes that had looked at her as though she were the only person in the world.

Rydian Black Fern, Alpha King of the Northern Reach, stood bleeding in her burning orchard.

Ren stopped breathing.

“Barl,” she whispered.

The king closed his eyes.

“Ren.”

“You ate from my spoon.”

“I remember.”

“I bathed you.”

“I remember that too.”

Her face went pale.

“You slept beside my bed.”

“Mostly beside it.”

“You stole my mother’s scarf.”

Rydian hesitated.

“Yes.”

“I blamed Turnip.”

The fox, hearing his name, gave an offended little bark from beneath the porch.

Ren stared at the man before her as everything suddenly made sense: the mysterious gifts, the stolen ham, the ribbon, the way Barl always appeared whenever she was lonely, the strange familiarity in the king’s eyes, and the impossible knowledge he had displayed at the market.

Her voice broke.

“You knew.”

Rydian stepped toward her.

“Ren—”

“You knew who I was.”

“I knew.”

“And I didn’t know who you were.”

He stopped.

She looked toward the burning press house, where the roof collapsed in a shower of sparks.

“Seventy years,” she whispered. “My family had those trees for seventy years.”

Rydian’s expression changed.

“I will rebuild—”

“No.”

The single word stopped him.

Ren’s fingers tightened around the bucket.

“Do not rebuild it because you are the king. Do not give me another gift because you feel guilty. Do not protect me because I am your mate.”

Rydian’s face went still.

She looked directly into his eyes.

“You let me love a wolf who did not exist.”

His breath caught.

“Barl existed.”

“That makes it worse.”

The words struck harder than any weapon.

Ren swallowed, tears gathering but refusing to fall.

“Everyone always looked past me. I learned to live with it. Then you came, and you looked straight at me every day. You listened to everything I said. You let me believe I mattered to someone.”

“You do.”

“How am I supposed to know which part was real?”

Rydian had faced armies without retreating.

He had crossed frozen rivers under enemy fire.

He had never bowed to another ruler.

But now he lowered his head.

“The part that loved you was real.”

Ren looked away.

Behind them, another section of the press house collapsed.

Rydian did not move closer.

For the first time since she had known him, he seemed afraid.

“I can return everything,” he said quietly. “The scarf. The gifts. The cider money. The roof repairs. Everything.”

Ren’s lips trembled.

“You cannot return trust.”

“I know.”

He bowed.

Then, without another word, the Alpha King walked away from the woman he loved.

He left guards hidden beyond the orchard, but he did not force Ren to accept their protection.

At dawn, he placed her mother’s lavender scarf, carefully folded, on the gate.

Then he returned to the palace.

And there, for the first time in his reign, Rydian stopped behaving like a king who could command every problem into submission.

The council was summoned.

The evidence against Elder Corin was already waiting.

Silver payments had been traced to the rogues. Witnesses had been found. Orders had been recovered.

Corin did not deny what he had done.

“I did it for the bloodline,” the old wolf said.

Rydian stared at him.

“You burned the home of one of my people because you believed she was inconvenient.”

Corin lowered his eyes.

“She was an omega without family.”

“No,” Rydian said. “She was a person you decided was invisible.”

By nightfall, Corin had lost his council seat and been sentenced to the far watch.

But justice could not rebuild Ren’s orchard.

It could not restore the trees that had burned.

It could not erase the memory of her discovering that the wolf she loved was the king.

For nine days, Ren remained in the blackened orchard.

She salvaged what she could.

Eleven old blackskin trees survived.

She talked to them because there was nobody else to talk to.

And every evening, despite herself, she listened for footsteps at the gate.

Rydian did not come.

On the tenth day, the first snow fell.

Then a royal summons arrived.

Ren was ordered to appear at the great courtyard of the keep.

She almost refused.

But royal summons could not be ignored.

So she arrived wearing her mended shawl and stood at the very back of six hundred wolves.

The courtyard fell silent.

Servants carried something into the center.

A rain barrel.

Ren stared.

It was filled with water.

And floating on the surface were dozens of small, dark apples.

Her apples.

The surviving blackskins from her orchard.

Then Rydian came down the palace steps.

He wore no armor.

No ceremonial sword.

No expression of command.

When he reached the center of the courtyard, he removed his crown and handed it to Allaric.

Then he knelt beside the barrel.

A murmur moved through the crowd.

Rydian looked at the wolves surrounding him.

“Six years ago,” he said, his voice carrying across the entire courtyard, “this pack decided one of its own was invisible.”

Ren’s throat tightened.

“I was guilty too.”

His gaze found hers.

“I was brave enough to fight wars, but not brave enough to stand at her gate as myself.”

The courtyard was completely silent.

“I met Ren Hollis as a wolf. She did not care that I was king. She did not care about my title, my bloodline, or my crown.”

A faint smile touched his mouth.

“She cared that I was cold.”

Several wolves lowered their heads, hiding smiles.

“She fed me stew. She bathed me. She scratched behind my ear. And she beat me at apple bobbing eleven times.”

Laughter rippled through the courtyard.

Ren stared at him.

“You lost on purpose,” she whispered.

Rydian’s eyes gleamed.

“Every single time.”

More laughter broke through the crowd.

Then his expression became serious.

“Ren Hollis is my mate.”

The courtyard went silent again.

“But she is not mine because the moon chose her. She is not mine because the crown protects her. She is not mine because a council approves of her.”

He looked directly at Ren.

“She is hers.”

Ren’s eyes filled with tears.

Rydian continued.

“If she chooses me, I will spend the rest of my life proving that the man she sees is the same man who sat beside her bed, stole her scarf, brought her ridiculous gifts, and deliberately lost eleven rounds because he loved hearing her laugh.”

A few wolves laughed again.

Rydian’s voice softened.

“And if she does not choose me, I will accept it.”

He swallowed.

“But I will never again allow this pack to make her invisible.”

Snow drifted between them.

Ren stepped forward.

The wolves parted.

She stopped several feet away from him.

“One condition.”

Rydian waited.

“One honest game.”

His eyebrows lifted.

Ren pointed toward the barrel.

“You win this time.”

For the first time, the terrifying Alpha King looked genuinely nervous.

He knelt.

The entire courtyard watched.

Rydian plunged his head into the icy water.

A second later, he rose with a small black apple clenched between his teeth.

The courtyard erupted.

Ren laughed through her tears.

“You absolute fraud.”

Rydian walked toward her, soaked from head to collar, and held out the apple.

“First try.”

“After eleven losses.”

“I had to make sure you enjoyed winning.”

Ren shook her head.

Then she leaned forward and took a bite directly from the apple between his teeth.

The courtyard went silent.

Among wolves, everyone understood what that meant.

Rydian’s eyes widened.

Ren smiled.

“Now we’re even.”

The claiming ceremony came months later, beneath the surviving blackskin trees.

Lavender grew along the rebuilt fence.

Forty Eastridge saplings stood beside the old orchard, a wedding gift from Prince Dain, who attached a note that read:

Told you I was persistent. Just not for whom.

Lady Sable sent no gift.

At the mating feast, however, she quietly straightened Ren’s crooked crown pin with one brisk movement.

The two women exchanged a look.

Nothing needed to be said.

And by the next Hallows’ Eve, the eastern orchard had become something entirely different.

The fence was strong.

The press house had been rebuilt.

Turnip still slept beneath the porch.

The crooked-necked goose still bit everyone except Ren.

And beside two steaming rain barrels sat the Luna of the Northern Reach, laughing with wet hair clinging to her cheeks.

At her feet lay a massive black wolf.

His great head rested in her lap.

His tail thumped lazily against the wooden boards.

Between his paws was one small black apple.

Ren reached down and scratched behind his ear.

His back leg began to thump.

She laughed.

“Still a fraud.”

The wolf opened one golden eye.

Then he pushed the apple toward her.

Two sets of teeth marks were already visible in its skin.

His.

And hers.

And this time, neither of them needed to pretend who they were.