The Merchant They All Betrayed , Now They're Begging — Novel

About

In the heart of Moonhaven, Ashton Duskborne is thrust into a storm of betrayal when the Crown Alpha, Rowena Ashenveil, casts him aside in favor of his charming but reckless brother, Edric. Having transformed the territory into a thriving hub of trade, Ashton is blindsided as everything he built is handed over to the very wolf who once spurned him. With whispers of greed and disgrace circling, he is left to grapple with the weight of his brother's disdain and the loss of a future he thought secure.

Ashton’s journey takes a new turn when he seeks refuge with Princess Elara, Rowena's sister, who harbors her own ambitions and secrets. Together, they navigate the treacherous terrain of loyalty and power in a world that seems determined to tear them apart. Can Ashton reclaim his place in the realm, or will he be forever haunted by his brother's shadow? As tensions rise and the stakes grow higher, the question lingers: in a world where bonds can shatter just as easily as they form, who can he truly trust? Secrets fester, and the line between ally and enemy blurs—will Ashton find redemption, or will he lose everything once more?

The Merchant They All Betrayed , Now They're BeggingChapter 1

My brother was the kind of wolf who thought himself above the frost and snow. The Crown Alpha, the she-wolf every bloodline heir in the realm would kill to be mated to? He found the whole thing beneath him.

He rogue-bonded with a traveling performer from a wandering pack instead.

Me, though? I was the vulgar one.

After I mated into the Ashenveil Pack in my brother's place, I spent every waking hour tallying moon-coins and building trade routes.

In just one year, the Crown Alpha's territory overflowed with gold and resources, her trading packs spanning the entire Cindervane Realm.

Even the old gate-warden ate fresh meat three times a moon cycle.

The Crown Alpha declared before everyone:

"Meeting Ashton Duskborne was the greatest fortune of my life."

Trade was booming. Then my brother came back, alone, with nothing but a worn cloth bundle on his back. His scent hit me before I saw him — jasmine oil and old vellum and something cloying underneath, like overripe plums left too long in the sun. Sweeter than I remembered. Sicker.

He jabbed a finger at my face: