Chapter 1

On the day the Dragon Clan held its bride selection ceremony, I happily placed my luminous pearl into Maya Burke's hands. She was the girl I'd grown up with.

From that day on, Maya hated me.

The reason was simple. She looked down on me. I wasn't born with overwhelming divine power, and in her eyes, that made me unworthy of her. The one she had admired since childhood was my younger brother Toby Hall, the genius of the clan.

On our wedding day, she joined forces with Toby.

They ripped out my dragon bones.

They tore away my dragon tendons.

Then they helped Toby seize the throne of the Dragon King.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the bride selection.

Under Maya's eager gaze, I walked past her and handed my pearl to the Human Princess standing beside her.

"From this day forward, she will be my Dragon Princess," I said to the Human Princess.

And that wasn't all.

This time, I was going to stay close to the Human Princess, the future War Goddess.

...

The moment I opened my eyes, I heard my father urging Toby and me to hand over the pearls in our hands.

As always, Toby acted humbly and politely.

He raised an eyebrow and said, "Owen, you should choose first. You're the eldest. It wouldn't be right for me to go before you."

No wonder everyone in the Dragon Clan praised him nonstop.

The guy hid his true colors frighteningly well.

Toby never participated in discussions about the throne.

Whenever people claimed his talent surpassed mine by miles and that he should be the next Dragon King, he would simply smile and say nothing.

To outsiders, he seemed calm and indifferent to the throne.

What they didn't know was that ambition had already consumed him.

He had been waiting for this chance for years.

He was willing to kill his father and brother.

He was a ruthless bastard with no loyalty and no conscience.

When Toby saw me heading toward Maya, he looked at me knowingly and said, "Owen, Maya is your childhood sweetheart. You've probably already decided she'll be your Dragon Princess, haven't you?"

The memory of that horrific night flashed through my mind: the pain of my bones being ripped apart. The agony of my tendons being torn from my body.

I sneered inwardly. Ignoring Maya's confident expression, I walked right past her and stopped in front of the Human Princess Isabelle Burton beside her.

"I'm actually interested in the Human Princess." I said, " She's every bit as beautiful as the rumors said."

The Dragon Clan was notorious for its desires. Everyone knew that.

What shocked them wasn't my attraction to a beautiful woman. It was the fact that I had only ever cared about Maya. Yet today, I had suddenly changed my mind.

Then, Maya's eyes were dull and lifeless. Her hand remained suspended in the air.

I placed the pearl into Isabelle's palm. Then I turned and announced loudly, "From today onward, she is my Dragon Princess."

Looking at the delicate Isabelle, my father frowned immediately and couldn't hide his doubts.

"Owen, are you sure? She's only human. How could she possibly be worthy of you?"

The Human Kingdom had only sent Isabelle here to fill a spot.

No one expected me to actually choose her. Even Toby's expression became unreadable.

"Father, I've made my decision," I answered.

Tears immediately welled up in Maya's eyes. She reached for my sleeve.

I quietly stepped away.

Her eyes turned red. Disbelief was written all over her face. "Owen, are you really choosing her?"

I looked straight at her. My gaze grew colder and colder.

In a voice only she could hear, I said, "Because I want to help you and Toby get what you've always wanted."

Maya's pupils shrank. She collapsed onto the floor.

Isabelle quickly moved to help Maya up. But Maya shoved her away viciously.

The pearl flew from Isabelle's hand and smashed against the ground.

Isabelle instantly turned pale. Terrified, she wanted to make an apology.

I grabbed her arm before she could apologize.

"It's just a pearl," My voice softened. "You don't need to do that."

Ignoring the venomous glare Maya shot at us, I took Isabelle's hand.

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

Ever since I was little, I’ve dreamed of standing beneath blinding lights, cameras flashing, the air trembling with my name. I’d smile, bow gracefully, wave at the crowd that adored me. Then, the moment my hand wrapped around the microphone and my voice filled the arena-soft at first, then powerful-the crowd would erupt. I’d be the next IU, the kind of K-Pop idol who could make people cry with a single verse.

People would know my name here in Seoul, and beyond. Not as Kim Bora, the heiress of a chaebol family, but as Kim Bora, the singer who made it on her own. And when I-

“Are you kidding me?”

Mum’s voice crashes through my daydream like a grenade. The door slams open, and reality hits me square in the head along with the migraine already dancing behind my eyes. My head feels like a damn drum. Why did Joon let me drink that much last night? Right, he tried to stop me. But who am I if not Kim Bora, the so-called party queen?

I groan, burying my face in the pillow. “What?”

The next thing I feel is the sting of her palm across my cheek. It cuts through the haze instantly, and for a second, I almost admire her precision. I look up at her, one side of my face burning. She’s furious, eyes blazing with lips trembling in restrained rage. And honestly? That expression is kind of satisfying.

It’s not the first time she’s slapped me. Probably won’t be the last.

A laugh slips out of me- low, sardonic, soaked in exhaustion and bitterness. It echoes in the silence between us like a dare.

“Go on,” I say hoarsely, smiling through the ache. “That all you’ve got, Mum?”

“Ji-ho? Really?”

Mum’s voice cuts through the pounding in my head like a knife. She’s holding up her phone, screen glowing with the latest tabloid article and there I am, in full disaster mode.

Me, in a glittery, barely-there dress, mascara smudged, stumbling into the arms of Ji-ho, the newest country’s favorite scandal magnet and upcoming actor who’s been blacklisted by half the entertainment industry and barely gets any major acting gig. His hand is slung around my waist as he tries, very publicly, to kiss me.

“Wow,” I mutter, squinting at the photo. “They didn’t even use my good angle.”

“Don’t play dumb, Bora!” Mum snaps, voice trembling with fury. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You were trending for all the wrong reasons again! With him?”

“What?” I yawn, reaching for a water bottle. “He’s cute. And he likes me.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment I think she might throw the phone at my head. Instead, she exhales sharply, mutters something about me being such a disgrace to the family’s name. under her breath, and spins on her heel.

“That’s it. I’m done.”

She storms out, her heels echoing down the hall.

I flop backward onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Sure, you’ve said that before,” I mumble to no one.

What are they going to do this time? Lock me in the family’s private villa again? Confiscate my cards? Send me to the cops? No. Dad wouldn’t dare let the media find out his precious chaebol daughter was being disciplined in any way. The Kim name must remain pristine even when their middle child is the stain they can’t wash out.

Maybe they’ll make my brother Bok handle the damage again. Mr. Perfect.

At twenty-six, he’s the golden boy, finishing his first year of a PhD in Business Management at SNU, already groomed to take over the company. Smart, composed, scandal-free.

Everything I’m not.

I don’t hate him… but sometimes, when I see how our parents look at him with pride, I wish they’d give me even a fraction of that. I close my eyes, letting the silence sink in until the door slams open again.

“What now, Mum?”

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says, her voice cold and controlled now. “The chauffeur is taking you to the airport.”

I blink, sitting up. “Airport? Where the hell am I going?”

She doesn’t answer. Just turns and leaves, the sound of her heels fading like a countdown. They are definitely sending me one of Dad’s properties as a measure of clearing their name. For all I care, they have definitely made some statement to the public, pretending to be me, claiming that I’m deeply sorry and I’m taking a break to reflect on my actions. Good thing, schools reopen in a month. They can’t keep me wherever they are sending me much longer.

1. HOCKEY, BOOZE & SEX

CHAPTER ONE

JAMES’ POV

HOCKEY, BOOZE & WOMEN

For as long as I can remember, my life has revolved around three things. Hockey, the pack and well, making it to the Emerald’s committee of the supernaturals, otherwise abbreviated as ECOTS. For mere mortals it’s hard to understand how getting into the committee is very important. It opens you to a world of opportunities. And well, to my father that means the world. You can have all the money in the world but being an ECOTS member or alumni, it sets you above every other supernatural creature.

“Going to Asher’s tonight?” Drew, my team mate, member of my pack and roommate, falls in step as we walk inside the changing rooms. We are just off hockey practice. With the Hockey season about a month and a half away, Coach Jacob is riding us hard. Even having an advantage of being a werewolf isn’t making it any easy.

“I was thinking I should stay in and study some literature. I mean, why the fuck am I studying some literature when it’s clear my future is in Hockey? I doubt I need to know shit about Shakespeare to learn how to score,” I grimace throwing my practice gear in my locker. I’m majoring in Business Management with a minor in English. Well, technically I shouldn’t complain about it. I picked the minor and my father doesn’t know. Otherwise, he would be mad I’m ‘wasting’ time.

Grabbing a towel, I change out of the practice uniform, tying a towel around my waist.

“Thank goodness I picked Biomedicine,” He laughs, following me into the bathroom area.

“Asshole, “I say and he laughs.

I’m in my last semester of second year and well, the preparation for the midterms was already killing me as it is. The last thing I needed was to be summoned by my literature professor earlier today. He has the audacity to threaten to assign me a tutor if I don’t get my grade up by the end of this semester.

“Well, the cheerleading squad is going to be there and I don’t mind getting some tonight,” Drew says as we are heading back to our apartment, barely a ten minutes’ walk off campus.

I frown, “ I thought you had a thing with Ashley,”

He only shrugs, “Ashley? You know me. I don’t do long term,”

“She dumped you, didn’t she?” I chuckle. I knew him too well. 

“I mean can you imagine? I did everything. Bought her flowers on valentines, took her out to dates and did the whole boyfriend thing. Why would she dump me?” He questions.

“I don’t know. But my guess? She was probably not okay with the whole you kissing that cheerleader thing. But who knows, right?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” he grimaces, hitting my shoulder but I only laugh. He continues, “Well, I have to rush to the lab. A new attachee is coming tomorrow and I’m supposed to show her around. So I have to prepare,”

Professor Simon McKay, one of the professors who are part of ECOTS, runs a private lab, funded by the committee and well, Drew managed to score an internship for himself just last month. He gets to work on Sundays, half days on Saturday and once a week on Wednesdays when he has no classes. How he is managing all that plus the hockey practice, is a complete mystery to me. But this lab is a real opportunity for him.

“That was this week?” I question. He has been yapping about it since last week. Apparently, whoever this new girl is, she came in as a special recommendation from some top university. You have no idea how much it irks him. In his words, he is convinced she is sleeping with the professor. It’s a rather misogynistic take on things if you think logically about it.

“Yeah,” He grips the strap of his back pack tighter, “I’m telling you, she is definitely sleeping with him,”

“Not a great take on someone you don’t know, dude,” I remind him, keying in our house code and adding my thumb print. Security is pretty tight around here and that too for good reasons. The Sunview apartments are mostly inhabited by top of the rich cream students attending EU.

“You sure I can’t convince you to crash Asher’s party? It’s Friday night. You can always study tomorrow,” his smile turns sly, “I mean, there is going to be a lot of girls looking for company tonight. Not to mention the booze,”

“Fine. But I’m cloaking out at midnight,” I say. But I know why I agreed to go. Because I need a distraction and I know Elena Graves is going to be there.

***

College parties whether on or off-campus are always the same. People get hammered, others smash like the world is ending and well, some end up disappointed when they crawl back into the hostels after a series of rejections. Here is the thing about being a Hockey player though. We tend to have an advantage over the other guys. Hell, even other sport teams. It’s Emerald’s University’s prize game. So it’s no surprise more than half the team do the whole hit and quit thing. It’s fun, unattached and well, no consequences.

“Yoow!” Drew calls, bro-hugging some of our team mates. I follow suit.

“James fucking White,” Asher smiles, “ I know you like the good stuff and I got you,”

Did I mention I was the assistant captain of the Hockey team? It’s more of a honorary title, really. No second years ever makes it that high on the ranks that early in their college life. Coach has already greenlighted me for Captain next-year. It’s a boost for my chance at ECOTS. And Asher, well, he is a kiss-ass. He likes to make it appear like we are best friends. Hell, I barely talk to the guy. Do I attend his parties? Sure. We are in college. What else will I be doing on a Friday night if not getting hammered and having incredible sex?

Drew only shrugs, his attention sidetracked by a cheerleader who winked at him. Drew and the girls. Not that I’m any better. I shake my head, following Asher and he is yapping something about being stressed out over his father insisting he attend an investor meeting next Tuesday. Hell, I’m barely listening. My only thought is to get hammered enough, find Elena, go back to the apartment, fuck and pass out, preferably with her pretty face on my chest.

“Shots?” He offers, popping open the lid of the Jack Daniels and pouring out unmeasured shots into two glasses. I can tell he is ahead of me. Afterall, he is the host. I know a thing or two about hosting a party. Trust me, it’s never any pretty. I tried it once after Drew putting some pressure on me and never again.

His father is in the jewelry industry, his company still a private equity but if there is anything I’ve learned from my father is that Asher’s family is nowhere close to our wealth range. Must be another reason why he is trying so hard to be close friends with me. Or at least making it look like.

I throw the shot in the back of my throat in one motion, barely scrunching my face up. A few more shots later, I’m tipsy enough to entertain that little fucker. 

“I’m telling you she is a fucking bomb. Hell, I know she DTF tonight. You should have seen the way she was looking at me,” He laughs drunkenly. He has had his eyes on Chloe, a biomed student in Drew’s class since forever and when he learned she had dumped her boyfriend over the summer, he wasted no time in trying to win her over. He has only been delusional so far and barely making an actual move.

“Then make your move,” I say.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to,” he says, “ I saw Elena looking at you. Looks, like you are getting lucky tonight,”

“No, I’m good,” I say and honestly, I have no fucking idea why I just lied knowing they will see me going homes with her later on, “ Should we get back to the party?”

He nods and we join the party which is now in full swing. Drew is whispering into some girl’s ear while she giggles. A couple of guys are smoking the bong with three girls sitting between them. From the corner of my eye, I catch Elena. She is a fucking bombshell, there is no doubt about that. More than half the hockey team have tried to make a move on her but none of them ever succeeded.

I walk into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding running smack into a couple sloppily making out at the corner. Setting down my half glass on the kitchen counter, I open the fridge, grabbing a beer no one knew was there. A familiar sweet and fruity scent teases my wolf Blaze and a smile cracks at the corner of my lips. When I straighten my back, Elena has her French manicured fingers wrapped around the stem of my glass.

“Playing hard to get or just ignoring me?” she questions, taking a sip from my glass.

“Pick a guess,” I smirk.

She merely laughs, “You are one sneaky little man, James White,”

“You didn’t think I was little when I had you screaming my name in my apartment,” I taunt her, watching her cheeks flush, “Almost had the cops called on us,”

“I don’t remember but tonight I’m down for a little reminder,” she winks, setting the glass down before she begins walking away, “Find me, James White,”

I smile, watching her disappear from the kitchen. Maybe that’s why I like Elena. With her, everything is so uncomplicated. No feelings involved. And well, tonight is my lucky night.

2. A LITTLE BIT OF TROUBLE

CHAPTER TWO

A LITTLE BIT OF TROUBLE

BORA'S POV

I’m convinced my parents have officially gone bonkers. Like they should probably get a psychiatrist’s help or something before it’s too late for them. I blow a thin whiff of smoke from my lips, watching the pale circles unravel and dissolve into the night air. Not only did they uproot my entire life and drag me halfway across the world from Seoul to Emerald City, in the middle of fucking Novairre but they also decided I don’t get the luxury of living alone. No. Apparently that would be far too reasonable. Instead, I’m staying with my aunt… at her boss’s house. How ridiculous is that?

I’ll admit, though, the man is unfairly hot. Like, shouldn’t-be-legal kind of hot. A French-Greek-God hybrid with sharp cheekbones, dark eyes, and that effortlessly tailored look that screams obscene amounts of money. I looked him up and apparently, Antoine Pierre is not short in that wealth department either. He got married last month, and aside from the fact that he only ever smiles when his wife Valerie is within eyesight, there isn’t much else I’ve noticed about him. Or cared to. Mostly.

“Kim Bora!”

My aunt’s sharp voice splinters through the quiet, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn away from the balcony and find her standing in the doorway, arms planted firmly on her waist, her expression carved from pure disapproval. I roll my eyes and tap out the burning end of the joint against the ashtray. She doesn’t yell. She never does. She just sighs. The long, tired kind of sigh that carries judgment heavier than words, before turning and walking away.

Typical.

My gaze drifts back to the city sprawled beneath my balcony. Emerald City has a certain glow to it. That I will admit. It’s vibrant, alive and buzzing with the possibility of a cool night life. It would probably make a tourist hotspot during the winter, especially when one is looking to experience some snow without freezing to death.

But it’s not Seoul.

And that alone makes it wrong. It makes me want to punch my hand through a wall and scream obscenities at everybody around me. I can’t believe my parents discarded me here and not once did they even bother to call. Hell, even Bok hasn’t checked up on me. Sure, I’m his troublesome younger sister but couldn’t he call even once just to see if I’m okay?

I’ve been here three weeks, and somehow, I already despise it. I don’t even know why. I just do. I miss home more than I want to admit; the noise, the familiarity of it all and the way everything made sense despite the chaos in my life. I’ve finished my admissions paperwork, survived the endless parental lectures from the Pierres and my aunt, and tomorrow I’m expected to tour the lab my parents enrolled me in for an internship.

Against. My. Will.

Emerald University, or EU, as I’ve started calling it, is barely a thirty-minute drive away. It’s not as flashy or prestigious as the university I attended back in Seoul, but it’s… decent. Close enough, I suppose.

A google alert notification pops up. I know what it is before I even look and when I click on it, sure enough the Glitter Girls are set to perform at the Seoul Olympic stadium a month from now. The tickets sell out immediately. After all, they are one of the best-selling girl bands in Asia right now. Soon enough, they will be taking over the world. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and exhale, before choosing to scroll aimlessly in EU’s website like I’d done since I found out I’d been enrolled here.

My phone rings, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. It’s Chloe. My assigned student guide and we share the same Biomedicine major, both of us in year two, second semester. She’s exactly what you’d expect; the stereotypical blonde bimbo straight out of every mediocre chick flick. I consider ignoring the call, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I swipe to accept.

The sound that greets me is pure chaos. There is loud music filtering through the phone, some drunk shouting and laughter. Something crashes in the background. Or someone. My ears practically flinch. Well. This just got interesting.

“Are you at a party?” I ask.

“Oh, shit! I meant to call someone else,” she slurs, clearly hammered. Then she pauses. “Wait, you’re that new girl, right? Wanna party a little just to take the edges off?”

I don’t hesitate. “Pin the location.”

“Done,” she says, and the call drops.

Seconds later, the location pops up on my screen. Well… what a great way to start university, right? I take a quick shower, letting the hot water wash away three days’ worth of boredom. I throw on some light makeup, just enough to look alive, and pick an outfit that says effort without screaming try-hard. Anything is better than looking like I’ve been rotting in bed since arrival.

“I’m stepping out for a bit. I’ll be back,” I announce, already heading toward the door. I don’t wait for my aunt’s response and thankfully, she doesn’t stop me either. Antoine and his wife are out on date night, which will probably end with clubbing at some insanely lavish members-on;y club or some disgustingly romantic late-night stroll. Either way, they won’t be back anytime soon.

I grab my keys, slide into my car, and punch the address into the navigation. The engine hums to life, my music blasting loud enough to drown out my thoughts as I pull onto the road. Twenty minutes later, I roll into a loud, crowded compound just a few minutes’ walk off campus. The place is already a mess. Students are scattered everywhere; some making out against walls, others playing drinking games and a few even completely passed out on the lawn like discarded props. It's a textbook college party filled with the same jerks. Same fucking clichés. I smirk to myself. Well, who am I to complain? I’m just a twenty year-old girl, right?

Well, if my parents think sending me to EU is the best course of action for their troublesome middle child, then they clearly need to think again. I’m not going to mellow out. I’m definitely not going to behave. If anything, I’m about to become so much worse. I’m ready to take everything I am and crank it up a fucking notch. All I have to do now is wait. Trust me, trouble always finds me.

“Bora!” Chloe screams my name over the music, and I turn toward her voice.

She’s waving wildly from one of the picnic tables, clutching what looks like a bottle of water like it’s a life raft. Smart move, taking into account she sounded quite hammered over the call. I’m surprised she is even so bubbly. From where she’s sitting, she’s surrounded by a mix of guys and girls who look effortlessly put together judging from the expensive clothes, easy confidence and they possess the kind of faces that probably dominate campus gossip.

Ah. They are definitely the so-called elites of EU. Every single college has them. I mean, I was basically royalty too in my former university. Sure no one from that entire circle talks to me anymore. Well, they can all go to hell for all I care. Chloe immediately springs into action, shoving a glass into my hand and pouring from a whiskey bottle that looks like it’s already seen better days.

“A shot first,” she shouts over the music, “then introductions.”

I shrug and toss the shot back without flinching. The burn hits me with that sharp and familiar taste, and I welcome it. Chloe’s eyes widen in approval, and a few of the people around the table exchange impressed looks.

Good.

“You know how I said I wanted to get more involved this semester?” Chloe continues, already tipsy but clearly enjoying her moment. “Well, I signed up for the student guide program. Guys, this is Kim Bora. She came all the way from South Korea and-”

“Kim Bora?”

A male voice cuts in, and I turn toward him.

“Yeah?” I say, lifting my chin slightly. For half a second, I wonder if he recognizes my name. If he knows who my family is. If he’s heard the stories surrounding my name in particular.

“You’re the new girl I’m supposed to give a lab tour to tomorrow,” he says.

Oh. So… no.

“Okay,” I reply flatly. “Guess that makes us lab mates.”

“Yeah. I’m Drew.” He smiles, friendly enough. I can’t tell if he’s already decided he likes me or if he’s just naturally charming.

He’s good-looking. There’s no denying that. Tall, athletic and has the classic easy grin. But not my type. Before I can say anything else, a girl slides onto his lap, wraps her arms around his neck, and they’re already back to making out like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

Figures.

But then I feel it. That sensation of being watched. Someone has their eyes pinned on me. From the corner of my eye, I notice him sitting right next to the couple, drink in hand and his posture relaxed but alert. His gaze is locked on me, unblinking, like he’s trying to peel me apart layer by layer and read the secrets I keep buried.

He’s hot in that trust-fund, clean-cut kind of way. Expensive haircut. Sharp jawline. Calm confidence. Almost like he is used to lead. The kind of guy who probably grew up getting everything he ever wanted. A white Greek god, carved and polished to perfection. Ungodly hot.

For a brief moment, my eyes linger just long enough to wonder if he’s the type who knows how to get into trouble.

Nah.

He looks like a good boy. The kind who follows rules and doesn’t burn his life down just to feel something. He is definitely my a far cry from my type. How disappointing.

“Here,” Chloe says, pouring more whiskey into my glass without asking.

I glance down at it, then back up at the chaos around us.

Yeah.

This night might not be so boring after all.

3.A NAUGHTY LITTLE GAME

CHAPTER THREE

A NAUGHTY LITTLE GAME

JAMES’ POV

Kim Bora.

She smells like fruity heaven; sweet and intoxicating in a way that makes my wolf stir uneasily beneath my skin. The scent lingers, curling through the air and settling somewhere deep in my chest and for the life of me, I cannot ignore it no matter how hard I try. That alone tells me everything I need to know.

She’s trouble.

I figured that out the moment she sat down. She keeps quiet beside Chloe, who’s far too busy making out with some overeager junior to notice anything else happening around her. The breakup must have been a pretty hard one if she is busy distracting herself that hard. Asher sulks a few seats away from me, nursing his drink like it personally betrayed him. I knew he wouldn’t have the balls to make a real move on her. He never does. He is all talks, no moves. So fucking predictable.

My gaze drifts back to her; again. The new student is absorbed in her phone, long fingers scrolling lazily, lashes low with her lips slightly parted in concentration. There’s something infuriatingly calm about her, like she doesn’t feel the weight of the room the way others do. Or maybe she does and just doesn’t care.

She’s intriguing.

Part of it is the beauty. No point denying it. She’s drop-dead gorgeous in a way that isn’t trendy or flashy but rather timeless. She possesses the kind of face you know you’ll remember long after the night blurs out. Blaze stars inside me and that should make me run for the hills but for some reason, I don’t hid the warning. 

“Your type?” Elena murmurs against my ear, teeth grazing my neck.

I smirk and turn my head toward her. “What? Are you jealous?”

She straightens, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “James fucking White,” she says quietly, “you should know the answer to that better than anyone.”

I laugh under my breath, curl my hand into her hair, and kiss her hard enough to steal the air from her lungs. She kisses me back just as fiercely, heat and familiarity mixing into something that stirs lust inside me. When we finally pull apart, she straddles me like it’s second nature, her mouth on the crook of my neck. And that’s when I catch it. From the corner of my eye, Kim Bora is watching. Interest flickers in her eyes, making my wolf perk up.

“You know,” Elena whispers, lips brushing my jaw, “if you’re going to keep looking at her, let’s make this interesting. I’ll give you a bet.”

I arch a brow. “Oh?”

Healing Kisses

"Who are you?" he demanded, stepping in front of me. Three years had passed, and I was no longer the weak, bookish girl he had heartlessly rejected. I gave him a cold smile. "Long time no see, my dear ex-mate." 🔥🔥🔥

Prologue

Broken promises ache as badly as hunger. Humiliation stings like getting lemon juice in a paper cut. This goes beyond that. This betrayal goes beyond the lies and expectations of what we are and what we've been raised to believe. It goes against everything that makes us what we are. No matter our rank. 

I watch from the terrace of the apartment I got for my mate and me when he returned from his alpha training last year. I had been so excited to see him after we spent our senior year apart. I gave up going to my dream school to stay here with him.

Santiago Romano held me in his arms, sold me pretty lies, and loved me the way he had promised before leaving. A part of me knew that I would be discarded after the full moon fell on my sixteenth birthday, and I didn't shift. I spent days avoiding him, trying to deny that someone from a Beta bloodline as strong as mine would be reduced to nothing but a lowly omega.

Everything had been perfect before that. We had met the day we both started at Artume Academy—two years after one of the cruellest rogue attacks in werewolf history. There were six hundred and eighty-seven casualties that night. I barely survived. I shouldn't have, but I did. I've never wished to have died there more than I wish it now.

My goddess-given mate has chosen his Luna. It's being televised for the world to see that I wasn't anywhere near enough to stand beside him. His parents hand-picked his Luna to carry his name, his legacy, and his heirs.

Poppy Turner is wearing my dream dress with a huge smile plastered on her face. Her arm is looped through my mate's, and the two of them look like the perfect match as they walk into the moon goddess temple for their official mating ceremony.

I turn the TV off and look down at my phone to see the message he sent me just before arriving at the temple. Three little words that don't mean shit to me anymore. This is for the pack, he said. You'll be better protected. You can now study to be a surgeon without the responsibilities of a Luna. I'll never leave you. You're the one I love—my true mate.

Lies.

The sick part is that there's a part of me that would accept this. I'd be his mistress, watching him build that life that should be ours with her. There's a darker side that looks back to the night of the attack. The night I saved her from the rogues, while my family was fighting. While they were dying. I should have left her there to be torn apart.

I want to leave here. Run away and never look back. I have the means for it. All I'd have to do is call my grandmother to tell her I've had enough. She'd come for me in an instant. I know she would. But it wouldn't solve anything, and I'd be leaving everything I've worked so hard to obtain behind.

There are three months left until the end of the semester. I'd lose all my credits, and my GPA would drop if I left now. It's all I have left. This career is the only thing that is going to keep me going for a while because this wound, like the loss of my family, it's going to take some time to heal.

I spend the rest of my night reviewing my notes for my upcoming exam. It's almost eight when my phone rings. I reach for it to see my Grandmother's name and a picture of the two of us at my graduation last year.

"Hey, GG," I answer.

"Don't hey, GG, me young lady," she says in her thick Swedish accent. "What is the meaning of this, Sophia?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

"Did he reject you properly?" she demands.

"No, he doesn't want to. He said that she'd be his Luna only in name."

"I want you to come live with me, Sophia. You need not be where you are not welcome. Why haven't you called to let me know what's happening? I would have sent for you immediately," her tone is urgent.

"Because you were on business for the King. I didn't want to bother you with something so trivial," I shut my laptop and close my notebook.

"Trivial? My love, this is not something to be taken lightly. You are in pain. It will get worse once you reject him. It'll feel like a part of your soul is being torn away."

"Please, don't make me feel worse than I already do," I sigh. "I can't just gather my things to leave. I have school and work. I'm not just his discarded mate. I'm more than just a floormat. This is why I didn't call you: I knew you'd want to come here immediately, and I don't want to lose myself over this. Leaving is a last resort."

"Leaving?" I look up to see Santiago standing in the doorway of my home office, still dressed in his ceremonial suit.

"GG, I have to go." I look away. "I love you."

"Sophia-" I hang up before she can say anything else.

"What do you mean you're leaving as a last resort?" he storms into the room and pulls my chair away from the desk to make me look up at him. I don't meet his gaze. "I told you that she means nothing to me. You're my mate. You're not going anywhere."

I don't answer him. I push him away when her scent hits me. It's all over him.

"I don't want you here right now. You're tainting my space with her scent. I can barely stand to look at you," I say calmly.

"You're being so fucking dramatic, right now. I didn't have a choice, Soph. I'm not doing this to hurt you. I came home to you. You're my mate. You're the one I'm in love with. This is for our pack. You're turning your back on me to hurt me. You're acting as if I were the one at fault here," he growls. I cry out when he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. "You're not leaving me. There is not a single fucking place in this world you can go where I won't find you.

"You run, and you're only going to be making things worse for me," he grips both my arms with too much force.

"You're hurting me," I try to pull away. He shoves me hard. Stumble back, hitting my head on the doorknob. The sting blinds me for a moment, but I don't have enough time to process it.

"Look what you made me do," he says, dropping to the floor beside me. His hand presses on the spot I just banged against the doorknob. "Soph, I didn't mean to. I panicked."

"Get away from me," I manage to cry out. His hand tightens around my throat.

"You're not leaving me," he pulls me into him. His eyes are bright red, and his canines are out. "Say it. Say you're going to stay, Sophia."

He leans into me, and for a second, my heart races when his teeth graze the curve where my neck and shoulder meet. The place he's told me wants to mark me. But he pulls away to cup my face to make sure I'm looking back at him.

I've been in love with this boy since the first time I set eyes on him when I was fourteen years old. I thought I knew him. All of him. But the person in front of me is not the man I thought he was becoming. I don't recognise him at all. All I can do is stare back at him, fear and disbelief in my eyes.

"Say it!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, making me jump.

"I'm going to stay," I choke out. The lie tastes rancid on my tongue.

"You can't leave," his wolf retreats, and I stare at his baby blue eyes as they fill with tears. "You can't leave me. I need you. I need you, Sophia. And you need me. Only I can protect you. You're mine."

1

Everyone is staring at me when I walk into my office after my classes are done. I can feel their gazes on my skin as I hurry over to the elevator. When I get to the maternity floor, I rush into the locker room to get ready for my shift.

"Soph?" I look back at my best friend, Poppy's half sister. She's the last person I want to see right now, but there's not much I can do about it since we have the same shift.

"Hey, Lieza," I greet her. The pitiful expression on her face hurts. "Don't."

"This is awkward," she says, scratching the back of her ear nervously. "But the alpha sent roses."

"What?" I ask, confused.

I locked myself in the home office and slept on my giant bean bag last night. When I woke up, he was gone. He slept in the apartment. The bed had been undone, and his suit was on the floor, where he took it off, expecting me to clean it up. I would have left it there if I didn't hate having a messy room. I threw it away on my way out of the building.

I finish putting my things away and follow her out. On the reception desk are five massive bouquets of roses and sunflowers. The nurses are all cooing over them.

"Here, they came with this," Lieza says, holding up a hot-pink envelope. He wrote my name on it by hand.

"These are so beautiful," Layla, one of the ultrasound techs, smiles at me.

"You guys can have them," I say, going over to my computer. "I don't care for flowers."

"They were a gift from your mate," Kennedy reminds me.

"I don't have a mate," I say.

Putting it out there hits me hard like getting mauled by a rogue after having watched it tear my brother to pieces seconds before.

They don't say anything, but they understand, and the flowers disappear. I go about my day as usual, then head home after my shift. His car is here when I arrive. I don't park; I head back out right away. I need some time away from him—time to piece together my thoughts.

Artume General Hospital is located near the main strip, where tourists frequently gather. The restaurants and stores are all open late. I have dinner at my favorite Korean BBQ spot and keep to myself, not wanting to draw any attention. As I have my dinner, I can't help but think about the night I found out I wasn't worthy of having a wolf. It was a night a lot like this one.

My grandmother was sitting behind me in our backyard as the sun came up. It marked the night of the full moon in my birth month, and nothing happened. I didn't feel any different, and I didn't hear the sound of my wolf's spirit.

"It could be late because of the trauma from the attack," she said, crouching down in front of me. I couldn't bring myself to look up at her. "Go back to school on Monday, and we'll meet again next month. I'll book an appointment for you later today. Go to bed."

There's never been an omega in my bloodline. Ever. It was why the Helvigs were accepted into the city ranking system. My father had made a name for himself before he met my mother, who is from here. My grandmother encouraged him to relocate so he would have better opportunities.

My body was shaking. All I could think was, what am I going to say to Santiago? How will his family react to me being what I am? They don't have to say it for me to know what was happening. I knew what was happening. I have been deemed an unworthy vessel.

My phone pinged as if my thoughts summoned him. His name and our picture pop up on the screen with the voice memo.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you on Monday. I love you."

There is a tiny chance that my wolf is late because of the surgeries I had after the attack. I was twelve. That was almost seven years ago.

I couldn't bring myself to open the following message, let alone reply. I dry my hair and curl up under the blankets. Sleep didn't come, but after a few hours, my grandmother came in to tell me that I have an appointment to get checked out.

I got dressed, and we headed over to the clinic. I'm sure she's paid the doctor and the staff to keep all of this quiet.

"Hey, Sophie," Dr. Valkrie greeted me the way she used to when I first met her. We all thought I was going to die then, and being an omega in my family has felt just like that.

"Hey," I greeted her quietly.

"Okay," she took a deep breath and smiled. She glanced over at my Grandmother, and it's all it took for her to leave the two of us alone. "There are a lot of reasons why your wolf is a little late. Have you been stressed lately? Anything you want to tell me before I start probing?"

"A little," I nodded. "I found my mate, or rather, he found me."

"Congratulations," she smiled. "Why would this be stressful for you? This is a good thing."

"He's the next alpha of the city," I whisper.

She tensed up, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I had been thinking about it all night. Alpha and Luna Romano are not going to like that. Luna Romano is Alpha Romano's chosen mate. No one really knows what happened to their true mates or if they ever had one at all. Dr. Valkrie leans forward to hug me. She sniffs me and then sits back.

"You've mated with him," she states knowingly. I nod. "We can start there, but I have to be honest with you. If being with your mate doesn't bring her out, the possibility that you are an omega is high. It can be due to all the damage that was done in the attack-"

"That's not what I want to hear," I cried.

"I know. I know, Soph. The only way that this can move forward is probably if he marks you, but even then, the chances of the wolf you turn into being a higher rank are low. You have to drop combat training.

"You have to tell him because if you lie, it's going to look very bad on you. I'm going to take some blood samples to ensure everything is okay. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. Okay?"

I couldn't answer her. I swallow the knot in my throat and let her take the blood sample. I spent the rest of my weekend alone in my room.

"Come down," my grandmother ordered on Sunday afternoon. She has her luggage ready, which means she'll be going back to Blackstone—lycan domain. 

"Thank you for coming, Grandma," I said. She let out a heavy sigh and tilted my head up.

"You survived one of the most gruesome attacks in our history, little one. You gave up a part of you to ensure that justice was served to avenge your family. Don't let anyone take that from you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I choked out, but I didn't believe it. 

"Come," she opened the door that led into the garage. I walk in with her. Inside is a cobalt blue Volkswagen Beetle convertible. "You mother had this arranged from the moment she found out she was having a girl.

"Helvig women are rare. Unfortunately, it has always been the men who have taken the glory in our bloodline. So, we were very excited when you were born. Finally, a little girl we can all dote on. Take care of it. Yes?"

"Thank you," I nodded and wrapped my arms around her.

Grandma has always had an icy aura about her. I was under the impression that she hated my mother and me. Perhaps it's not hate, but the lingering coldness of having to serve under the Lycan King.

Grandma Zaraphine is about four or five inches shorter than I am. Her hair is black, highlighted by the grays and whites growing out. She doesn't look old, but her eyes give away her age. She's always been very elegant and refined. I wanted to be just like her. It was why I gave up on the medical program and joined the combat team at the start of my training.

I started to cry again, and for the first time, she tightened her hold on me. I don't know how long we stayed this way, but when she finally pulled away, she wiped away my tears. She stared at me for a bit before letting me go.

"Things will change for you, Little one. Drastically. If you need me to pick you up, call me. Do not hesitate. Do you understand? You are still a Helvig, and I will not allow you to be disrespected in any way. If I am unable to come personally, I will send someone on my behalf. Okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. 

"I must be going. Try to keep this to yourself for as long as you can."

"I can't," I inform her.

"Why not?"

"Santiago is my mate," I confessed. She inhaled deeply and pulled me into her again.

"You call me immediately if you need me, Sophia. Do you understand?"

"Yes,"

"I must go. I promised my general I'd be back before sundown. My heart stays here with you, Granddaughter. As always."

"Be safe," I nod.

I unlocked the car and climbed inside. It smelled brand new. Like that night, I sit here not knowing what to do. I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but I don't have the energy to reach for it. I shut my eyes, needing a moment of peace. Anything to get my head out of the thoughts attacking the very essence of my soul.

I am unworthy. There was no wolf spirit for me and no mate. 

2

The smell of freshly made food greets me when I arrive at my apartment. I walk in to find Luna Romano in my kitchen and Santiago setting up the table. I look between the two of them, knowing that they're going to ambush me over what happened last night. I didn't think that my mate was a little bitch boy that needed his mommy to fix his life for him, but then again, he ended up marrying the woman she picked for him.

"Sophia," she beams with way too much enthusiasm for my liking. "It's a little late for you to be out and about on your own, isn't it?"

I stare at her, not knowing how to answer that. How dare she come into my home and say anything against me? She has no right, not even as the Luna of the City. I hold my tongue this once because, despite the shit show she's turned my life into, I once respected this woman almost the same way I respected my own mother. I kick my shoes off, and I head to my room.

"Dinner will be ready in a bit," Santiago blocks me.

"I already had dinner, thank you," I say, rolling my eyes and trying to get past him. 

He grips my arm in the same spot he had last night, pressing his fingers into the bruises I already have. I try to pull my arm out of his grip, but he only tightens it. I look up at him, wishing I had the strength to hurt him back with my entire existence. 

"Get cleaned up for dinner, Baby. My mom made us dinner. Take this off," he says sternly, motioning my scrubs.

The two of us stare at one another for a long time before he releases me. I glance back at his mother to see her smiling proudly at his actions. She doesn't meet my gaze, and I don't argue. I rush into my bathroom as my heart beats faster than it ever has. I reach for my phone immediately and turn on the water.

"I've been so worried about you," my Grandmother answers right away.

"GG, Luna Romano is here," I try my best not to cry. "I don't feel safe."

"All right," she says calmly. "Just do as you're told, I'm on my way."

"Hurry," I try to calm myself.

🔞🔥In bed with my jerk boss?! 🥵 💦

🕶️"Why don't you go home?"

👠"I saw my cousin have an orgasm on my bed..."🔞🔥

Chapter One

Blair was so grateful to be home. She just didn't understand the demon that had possessed her boss during their recent business trip. He had driven everyone hard. They arrived home one day earlier than planned, but she was glad to be away from him.

She had expected to return to the office with him. To her surprise, he gave her the rest of the afternoon off. Maybe he'd decided they both needed a break. That was fine by her.

Lately, he'd been a real shithead. Short-tempered and demanding. When he dropped her off at her front door, she almost flipped him the bird. She paused, unsure whether he'd catch the gesture in the rear-view mirror.

Roman had this uncanny ability to sense everything. It was almost like he had eyes in the back of his head. You'd think being gorgeous would make him a bit easier to work with. But no. If anything, it made him more of an ass. He was hot, and he knew it. Most everyone always fell at his feet trying to please the man.

She didn't know what was going on. Roman had seemed more irritable in the past few months. He'd been rubbing her the wrong way. Of the two years she'd worked for him, these last two months had been the worst. If he didn't pay her so well, or if she didn't need the job so badly, maybe she would tell him where to go.

Blair shook her head. That wasn't true. Despite his sometimes shitty attitude, Roman did look after his staff. The benefits at Kingston's were great. People put up with more for the right perks.

The office offered excellent medical and dental coverage. There was also childcare within the building, and the company was cutting back on maternity leave taken. It was a win-win for Kingston.

Blair picked up her case and headed for the front door of the townhouse she shared with her fiancé Dan and her cousin Laura.

She checked her watch as she reached the front door. Dan wouldn't be home for a few hours. She planned to surprise him with a romantic dinner.

Laura was rarely home at night, always out partying. Her cousin was a model…not a supermodel, but still gorgeous. She knew how to make the most of it. Blair, on the other hand, wasn't interested in clothes or makeup. She was more into books.

They had both moved to the city for different reasons. Laura to follow her modeling career and for Blair, it had been a chance to work for a great company like Kingston Industries. Working normally under the great man himself Roman Kingston. The company had their fingers in so many pies, Blair was never bored. Even when Roman was being his most demanding. She loved her job.

Fishing for her keys, she juggled her briefcase, handbag, and suitcase. Once the key was in the lock, it turned easily. Blair pushed the door open. Stepping inside, she put her handbag and suitcase down at the bottom of the stairs, before heading into the lounge room where she kept a desk. She set her briefcase on top.

Blair turned to make her way to the kitchen, pondering what to prepare for dinner. As she walked past the foot of the stairs, a sudden noise from upstairs caused her to halt in her tracks. Was there someone else in the house? Had she returned home to an intruder? Filled with panic, Blair took a step towards the front door, ready to flee.

However, at that moment, she realized something. Laura. Unlike Blair and Dan, Laura didn't adhere to their typical working hours. She often slept late and stayed out until the early hours of the morning. It wasn't the first time Blair had found her slumped on the front steps as she was leaving for work in the morning. Blair wasn't sure if she should call out now. What if it wasn't her cousin?

Her eyes scanned the room for something to defend herself with… just in case. Her gaze landed on her late father's baseball bat, which she always kept near the front door when she was home alone at night. It made her feel safer.

She grabbed the bat, weighing it in her hand for a moment. Before she set foot on the stairs, she paused, wondering if any of them creaked. She couldn't remember. Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, Blair ascended the stairs slowly, step by step.

When she reached the landing, she stopped, straining to listen.

"Please be Laura. Please be Laura, and not some masked man waiting to jump out at me," she muttered under her breath.

The hallway stretched ahead, with four doors. Three led to the bedrooms, and one opened to the shared bathroom. The only door ajar was the one to her and Dan's bedroom. The others were shut. But to get to her bedroom, she'd have to pass the other doors.

That's when she heard it, the unmistakable sound of a giggle from Laura, followed by a low, male groan. Relief flooded her chest. It wasn't a burglar. Laura had brought someone home.

Just as Blair was about to turn away and leave, she heard the voice of the man Laura was with.

"God, yes," the voice groaned.

Blair froze, her heart pounding. No. It couldn't be.

"Laura, you're so fucking hot," Dan's voice came from their bedroom.

Her eyes widened. Dan. In their bed. With Laura. Blair's stomach lurched.

This couldn't be happening. She moved quietly down the hall until she stood outside her bedroom door, praying this was all some kind of terrible misunderstanding.

With a trembling hand, she pushed the door open.

The sight that greeted her was like a punch to the gut. She staggered backward, her mind unable to process what she was seeing.

There, in the middle of the bed, was Dan, flat on his back, with Laura straddling him, completely naked. She was moving up and down on him, her hands gripping his chest hair. From this angle, Blair could see Dan's cock thrusting in and out of Laura. It felt like she was watching a scene from a porn film.

Dan's hands gripped Laura's waist and ass, guiding her movements.

"Oh, yes, fuck me harder," Laura moaned.

Blair lifted a hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. No, no, no, no.

Dan's grip tightened on Laura's ass, spreading her cheeks wider.

Blair had never seen Laura naked before, not that it mattered when she was currently riding Blair's fiancé.

How could she do this? They had both watched Laura's father, Peter, cheat repeatedly on Laura's mother, creating a toxic home life. Blair had lived with them after losing her parents in a plane crash ten years ago. She had thought if anyone would understand the devastation of betrayal, it would be Laura.

This had to be a nightmare. Blair pinched herself, hard, as the sting registered immediately. Not a nightmare.

Dan had always hated Laura. He'd called her a slut. Mocked her outfits. Said she was shallow, incapable of real conversation.

Was it all a lie? Had he been jealous of the men in her life? Was that why?

One thing was certain, Dan's mother, Paula, would never accept Laura as a suitable wife for her son.

But none of that mattered now. What was she supposed to do? How did someone handle this? It was like a scene from a B-grade movie.

She couldn't pretend she hadn't seen it. She didn't want Dan anymore… not now, not after this. Taking him back would be disgusting.

How long had this been going on?

They had been living together for five months. Dan had moved in with her and Laura to save money before the wedding. Had he been fucking Laura the whole time?

"Laura, you are so goddamn tight," Dan groaned, arching his back.

"Is my pussy better than Blair's?" Laura asked, riding him harder.

Blair's heart stopped. Did she know Blair was standing here? Had she asked that on purpose?

Blair bit into her hand to keep from making a sound. She had given Dan her virginity. He had known what that meant to her. Knowing that he had done this.

She hadn't even planned to be home today. She had wanted to surprise him.

The surprise had been on her.

She felt sick. A cold sweat broke over her skin.

Her other hand came up, gripping the doorframe for balance. Something solid pressed against her palm. The bat.

For a fleeting second, she thought about using it. Smashing the bed, the nightstand, the both of them. But she wasn't that person. She rested the bat against the doorframe just in case she changed her mind and used it on them.

So instead, she straightened her spine. Let the rage steel her so when she finally spoke, her voice was calm. Icy, emotionless.

"While you two finish up, should I cook dinner?"

Chapter Two

"Fuck me." Dan's head came up off the bed as he pushed Laura off his body. Blair could see the horror on his face when he saw her standing at the door. He'd been caught with his pants down, or off, as it was in this case. Laura scrambled across the bed, pulling a blanket over her naked body. Her face was filled with shock, showing her cousin hadn't known of Blair's presence. The expression she wore was incredibly real and impossible to fake.

"No thanks. Looks like Laura has taken care of that for you." Blair was surprised how calm she sounded. When all she truly wanted to do was scream and shout and throw things. But what would it accomplish? She would still have a broken relationship.

"Blair! What are you doing home today?" Dan's cock was wet and laying limp against his leg. Having his fiancée walk in on him mustn't be a turn on, it would seem.

Blair lifted an eyebrow at him. "That's what you are worried about? Might be an idea to cover up."

Blair was watching Dan with narrowed eyes. She had loved him, but the person she saw now was ugly to her. It didn't matter anymore that he was very attractive. To her, he was ugly. No one should cheat on someone they claimed to love. Even if someone had held a gun to her head, she would have refused. It was a shame Dan hadn't felt the same. As far as she could see, Laura hadn't needed to force him. Hearing them talk during the act had told her that.

Blair put the bat down, resting it against the wall near the door. Just in case. She told herself that she wouldn't use it, but who knew? Crimes of passion had to have come from somewhere. Normal everyday people committing a crime in the heat of the moment. So it was safer if she put it down. Blair then crossed her arms across her chest, looking back to see Dan had gotten off the bed and was pulling on his suit pants.

She flicked her eyes to Laura. The bitch now had a smug look on her face. It had replaced the look of shock. Why?

Blood was roaring in her ears as she came to terms with the total destruction of her personal life. She never wanted to see him again, but she and Dan both worked for Kingston. She had applied first. Dan hadn't joined the company until a year later.

Blair decided then and there she would not be leaving her job. It was the only concrete thing she could hang onto, so she was keeping it. It wasn't like they worked directly together.

Dan took a step towards her, reaching out his hand. "Baby.."

Blair took a step back. "Don't you dare touch me." Not only could she not stomach it, but who knew where that hand had been?

The venom in Blair's voice brought him up short. He turned to look at Laura before returning his eyes to her face. Blair knew she was pale. Who wouldn't be?

"You have to believe me. This was a one time thing. It will never happen again. It meant nothing." Dan pleaded with her.

Blair could see the look on Laura's face. Even before seeing it, she knew he was lying. Dan had a tell. When he lied, his right eyebrow would go up. Before today, the lies had never been a big deal, just little things. Had she noticed it when he had talked about Laura in the past? Blair wasn't sure. Because sometimes the sub-conscious mind could even fool ourselves.

"You know what, Dan? It doesn't matter." Blair angled her chin up as her nails dug into her palm. "This one time was all it took."

"What. No, Blair baby please, I love you." Dan tried to take her in his arms.

Blair moved quickly, picked up the bat, and swung it so the end pressed up against his chest, pushing him back and holding him at bay. "Don't even think about it."

Dan looked down at the bat, raising his hands to shoulder level. "Please, she seduced me. You know what a slut she is. I was missing you."

They both heard the gasp from the bed. Laura responded, "He's lying Blair. This has been going on for months. Soon after, he moved in."

"Shut up, you dumb bitch." Dan turned to yell at her. Before saying to Blair, "She is lying."

Blair shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It only took the one time Dan." She nudged him with the baseball bat. "Don't call Laura a dumb bitch. I may never forgive her for this, but you were the one in a relationship, Dan, not her." Blair could see Laura sliding out of the bed, scrambling around for her clothing, still holding the sheet to her breasts. "If you think she is a slut, what the fuck does that make you?" Blair knew she would not feel clean even if she had ten showers. This was going to take time.

Blair knew she couldn't deal with any more right now. She needed to leave before they were both dressed. She needed to think, to process. Turning on her heel, she ran down the stairs. Quickly grabbing the suitcase, and handbag. Blair only just remembered the briefcase as she was about to leave through the front door.

"You stupid slut, why did you have to say anything?" Dan's angry voice came from upstairs.

Blair rushed to her desk, picked up the briefcase and stood at the front door, ready to leave. Knowing once she walked through it, she wasn't coming back. She had no idea where she was going but anywhere was better than here.

Following Dan's insult came Laura's high-pitched squeal. "I'm not a slut Dan."

"You and your big mouth. You wanted this to happen, didn't you?" Dan accused.

Blair could hear the tears in Laura's voice. "You didn't mind my mouth when it was sucking your cock."

"Shh." Dan was worried she was hearing their argument. "You set me up, didn't you? You knew she was coming home."

"Dan I didn't know." Laura cried.

If she stayed any longer, both of them would have gotten dressed and then they would come down here, and she didn't want another confrontation.

Taking a deep breath, Blair stepped through the front door, not looking back even as she heard Dan calling her name from inside the house.

Chapter Three

Blair waved down a taxi. She shoved open the taxi door and climbed into the backseat as quickly as she could, intent on getting out of here as fast as possible. She felt like getting drunk. But if she went to a bar alone during the day, that would be inviting trouble. She could feel the tears as they slid unchecked down her face. She had held herself together while she had confronted Dan and Laura.

"Where to?" the driver asked, his voice cutting through the fog in her brain.

Where to? Good question.

Home wasn't an option. Sutton and Keira were at work, and she didn't want to sit in their empty apartment, replaying the image of Dan tangled in her cousin's sheets. She needed a drink. But sitting alone in a bar in the middle of the afternoon? That felt like waving a white flag.

She hesitated, then rattled off the address of her office. At least there, she could pretend to be productive. Maybe even figure out what the hell to do next.

The taxi pulled away from the curb and she exhaled, trying to steady herself.

The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror. "There are tissues in the center compartment if you need them, hon."

The driver's voice was gentle, like he'd seen enough women cry in his backseat to know when to speak and when to keep quiet.

Blair grabbed a handful. "Thanks." She said before cleaning her face as best she could. It wasn't like she wore a lot of makeup. So, she might as well clean her face.

Her phone began to ring. Dan?

She still pulled it out of her bag to check. Her stomach clenched as she stared at the screen, his name glowing in bright white letters.

She could just imagine the first words he would say.

"It's not what it looks like, Blair."

"I can explain."

"Please, just let me talk to you."

Lies. Excuses. The same bullshit men always spewed when they got caught.

She set the phone to silent and shoved it back into her bag.

By the time the taxi pulled up in front of Kingston Industries, her makeup was beyond saving. She reached into her purse, dug out a crumpled twenty, and handed it to the driver.

"Be honest," she said, forcing a smile. "Do I look like a woman who just found out her fiancé is screwing her cousin?"

The driver hesitated, giving her a careful once-over. "Your eyes are a little red, honey, but it's hardly noticeable." He paused. "Are you going to be okay?"

The unexpected kindness nearly undid her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "Yeah. Better to find out now, right? Just a little bump on the road of life." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince… the taxi driver or herself.

She climbed out of the taxi, hoisted her suitcase onto the curb and took a deep breath. Blair pulled out her phone only to see Dan had called her six times and left six messages on her voicemail. Uninterested in what he had to say for himself, she slid the phone away in her handbag again.

Blair turned toward the towering glass and steel structure of Kingston Industries. Roman had bought the building five years ago. The top eight floors belonged to Kingston, the lower three rented out to smaller businesses. With the way the company was expanding, she wouldn't be surprised if they took over the whole thing eventually.

She walked inside, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Miss Warner, Can I help you?" Blair blinked. Maggie, one of the receptionists, had stepped out from behind the lobby front desk, her gaze flicking over Blair.

Maggie moved even closer, taking the suitcase from her. In Blair's same hand, she was still holding the bat. Blair had completely forgotten that she was even holding it in her hand.

Blair had walked into the office looking like she was about to commit a felony. She was glad she still had it, though. It was something she wouldn't need to retrieve later.

Blair exhaled, relieved. "Thanks, Maggie. Can I leave everything here while I freshen up?" She was surprised her voice sounded so... normal.

"Of course, Miss Warner." Maggie's eyes darted to the bat again.

"Blair, please. How many times do I have to tell you?" Roman preferred first names, but some staff, especially the newer ones, seemed to struggle with that.

More with Roman than with her.

Maggie smiled, taking the suitcase, briefcase, and bat.

Blair headed across the foyer to the restroom.

Inside, she went straight to the mirrors. The cab driver hadn't just been kind. She really didn't look that bad. She pulled a makeup wipe from her bag and cleaned off the last remnants of mascara. A quick dusting of powder, some lip gloss, a little eyeliner.

She pinched her cheeks. People always said that added color, but she didn't see a difference.

Her blue eyes were still a little red, but there wasn't much she could do about that. She pulled out a brush, freed her long, wavy blonde hair from its bun, and redid it neatly. Good enough.

She left the restroom, retrieved her belongings from Maggie, and headed to the elevators. As she waited, she tried to recall Roman's schedule. Did he have any meetings this afternoon?

Then it hit her. He shouldn't have been home today. So no meetings were scheduled in his calendar.

She sighed. Her brain was fried. But walking in on your fiancé shagging your cousin would do that to anyone.

The thought made her frown.

How often had they been doing this? Dan had been at home during a workday. She traveled occasionally for work, but not that often. If their affair had been going on for months, they had to have been meeting up on company time.

The elevator arrived. A woman she didn't recognize stepped in with her.

Blair offered a polite, strained smile. When the woman got off at the second floor, Blair leaned back against the wall, staring at nothing.

Should she tell Roman about Dan? It would feel like sour grapes… tattling just because he cheated. But he was also ripping off the company. No way could he get home, have sex with Laura, and get back to the office during a lunch break.

The elevator dinged open. Blair inhaled deeply before stepping onto the executive floor.

Kara, the receptionist on the executive floor, looked up. "Hey, Blair. I didn't think you'd be in today."

Blair smiled. "Wasn't planning to be, but I figured I'd get a jump on the meeting notes for Roman. Is he in?"

Kara shook her head. "No, he left a little while ago, telling me to take messages and everything can wait until tomorrow."

Blair almost sagged in relief. She wouldn't have to face him just yet.

"Thanks, Kara."

She went to her office, shut the door, and sank into her chair.

Blair rested her head on the desk. Shit. She felt like a wrecking ball had just split her world in two.

How could he? But even worse than that, how could Laura?

Chapter 1 The Year She Was Seventeen Again

"If there is someone you care for… say it."

The King's voice carried across the great hall from the raised dais—steady, composed, yet touched with an uncommon gentleness. Every word was deliberate, leaving no room for doubt.

"I want to hear it from you."

Elowen Hale stood perfectly still.

In that single moment, clarity struck her like lightning.

She had returned.

Reborn—back to the year she turned seventeen.

Today was the royal banquet. Officially, it was called a "family gathering." In truth, everyone here knew better.

The King had summoned her for one reason alone.

He intended to decide her marriage—with his own words.

Elowen parted her lips.

But no sound came out.

A storm of emotions surged through her chest, tightening her throat until it hurt. Heat burned behind her eyes, blurring her vision.

"You need not be afraid."

When she failed to answer, the King's voice softened even further.

"The Hale family has served the crown for generations. Your father, your uncles, your brothers… they all gave their lives for Avenlor on the battlefield."

A pause.

"And now, only you remain."

His gaze rested on her, steady and solemn.

"I will personally see to your marriage. No matter whom you wish to wed, I will make it so."

Even after living through it once—after dying and returning—just hearing the name of her family made Elowen's heart ache.

The Avenlor Kingdom had not stood for long.

Less than a century.

Its roots were shallow, its enemies many, its future uncertain.

Last year, the horsemen from the Northern Reaches had shattered the kingdom's borders. The Hale family had been sent north to defend it.

She still remembered the day they left.

Her father, her uncles, her older brothers—

Laughing. Teasing her. Full of life.

So loud she found them unbearable.

And when they came back…

They came in coffins.

Wrapped in torn, blood-soaked cloaks.

Silent. Still.

Her aunts and sisters-in-law scattered. Some returned to their parents' homes. Others remarried.

Her mother, crushed beneath grief, fell ill and passed away at the start of the year.

The once-lively Hale Manor—

was left with only Elowen.

The King had called this a "family banquet."

But everyone understood.

This was his way of honoring the fallen Hales.

By marrying off the last surviving daughter.

A soft laugh suddenly broke the heavy silence.

"Why even ask, Father?"

A girl's voice rang out, light and teasing.

"Everyone knows Elowen is hopelessly in love with Alaric. She's never exactly been subtle."

Princess Maerwyn Valebourne.

The King's most favored daughter.

Elowen's fingers tightened slightly at her sides.

In her previous life—

Maerwyn had said these exact same words.

Back then, Elowen had flushed crimson, lowering her head in shy embarrassment at the mention of Alaric Valebourne—the Crown Prince.

The King had laughed heartily.

"Then it's settled," he had declared with a wave of his hand. "We'll choose an auspicious day. You and Alaric shall be married."

And she had believed it.

Believed that effort could win affection.

She had poured herself into that marriage.

Every detail of the wedding. Every preparation.

She told herself that if she tried hard enough…

He might notice her.

Might care.

But on their wedding night—

Alaric had shut her out.

He wouldn't touch her.

Wouldn't even let her near his bed.

By morning, Elowen was still there.

Curled on the cold stone floor.

Fully dressed.

There was no warmth.

No intimacy.

No heir. Of course.

At first, the King and Queen pitied her.

But over time, that pity turned into disappointment.

The entire Crown Prince's Wing adjusted accordingly.

Without favor… without a child…

Elowen became invisible.

Servants no longer bothered to hide their disdain.

And she endured it all silently.

Until one day—

she overheard him.

Alaric was speaking with a close companion.

About her.

Only then did she understand.

Everything she had suffered—

he had known.

He simply hadn't cared.

Or worse—

he had allowed it.

His voice was cold. Sharp with contempt.

"She forced me to marry her," he said. "Now she's getting what she deserves."

His companion hesitated.

"But Elowen is beautiful. She truly cares about you. Do you really feel nothing for her?"

Alaric didn't even pause.

"She disgusts me."

The world had gone silent.

So cold.

I forced you?

Is that what you believe?

It was his father's decision.

If he didn't want it, why didn't he say so?

Why take it out on her?

In that entire farce—

The King was praised as benevolent.

The Crown Prince gained favor.

And Elowen…

She alone paid the price.

What had she done to deserve it?

The grief clawed at her so violently she thought she might be sick—

but nothing came.

Her eyes burned.

But no tears fell.

Numb, she went to him.

She stood before him, lowered herself into a formal bow, and asked for their marriage to be dissolved.

Alaric—who had always been indifferent—

snapped.

Without warning, he grabbed a cup and hurled it at her.

Elowen didn't move.

The porcelain struck her temple.

Blood ran down her face.

For a brief moment, he looked startled.

As if he might stand.

Instead, he clenched his jaw.

"There's no need to act pitiful."

He refused.

For days, he ignored her entirely.

And then—without explanation—

he agreed.

On the eve of their separation, Elowen stood in those chambers and realized…

She felt nothing.

There was nothing she wanted to take.

Not a single thing.

In the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

Married at seventeen.

Four years later—

she was hollow.

Pale. Worn thin. Eyes empty.

At least…

She would be free.

She fell asleep that night.

And woke again—

at seventeen.

Perhaps even the heavens had taken pity on her.

“Oh?”

The King's voice pulled her back to the present.

He looked thoughtful.

"She likes Alaric?"

"Yes," Maerwyn replied with a playful smile. "Elowen is completely smitten. She's always baking pastries for him and bringing them over herself. Once she hurt her hand, but insisted it didn't hurt at all—though I ended up eating most of them."

A few quiet chuckles rippled through the hall.

"And not long ago," Maerwyn continued lightly, "when Alaric lost his favorite pouch, he was in a terrible mood. Elowen even came to ask me what kind of pattern he preferred—she wanted to make him a new one herself."

As she spoke, Alaric's brows slowly drew together.

His discomfort was unmistakable.

Hockey captain's cohabitation rule? No pajamas.🥵👅

Chapter 1

Aria’s pov.

The moans slipped through the wall, again.

Luca, my best friend, my secret crush for years, was having sex with my roommate on the other side of the wall.

The sounds were louder than usual tonight, a sharp, rhythmic thudding against the drywall that felt like it was happening inside my own head.

It felt deliberate, like Serena wanted to make sure I heard every single gasp, every single second of her winning. It was a shitty way to end a twelve-hour double shift at the coffee shop.

I lay on my bed, my eyes burning from the caffeine and the fluorescent lights I’d been under all day. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. Serena’s moans were reckless.

I looked at the small, framed photo on the corner of my desk—my parents and my older brother, Anthony, smiling in the sun.

They’ve been gone for five years now.

The car accident that took them when I was fifteen shattered my entire world in a single afternoon.

Luca was the only one who didn't let me drown in the silence of that empty house.

He held me while I cried until I had no tears left. He stayed when everyone else eventually went back to their lives.

He was my anchor, my only piece of home left in the world.

That’s why I followed him here to Westbridge University.

I gave up a full ride at my dream school just so I wouldn't have to face a single day without him nearby.

What a massive, pathetic fool I was.

Now I was just the scholarship girl working two jobs while he lived the life of a rich playboy.

I’d watched him date dozens of girls over the years. I used to just sit back and wait for them to vanish, which they usually did after a month or two.

I told myself they were just distractions, toys he used because he wasn't ready for something real.

But Serena felt different.

She didn't feel like a distraction, she felt like a permanent replacement.

The noise from the next room spiked again, a loud moan that made my skin crawl with a mix of nausea and rage.

The lack of sleep and the physical ache in my back from standing all day finally made something inside me snap.

I pushed myself up from the bed so fast it felt like the world jolted with me. I stormed into the hallway of our suite and hammered my fist against Serena’s door with everything I had.

"Keep it the fuck down, you two!" I yelled.

My voice sounded raw, cracking under the weight of the frustration I’d been bottling up for weeks.

"Some of us actually have to work for a living in the fucking morning!"

The noise stopped instantly.

It was replaced by a silence so heavy I could feel it pressing against my eardrums.

I didn't wait for a response. I turned around, went back into my room, and shut my door hard enough to make the walls tremble.

I fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to force my heart to stop racing.

A few minutes later, there was a sharp, aggressive knock on my door.

I thought it was Luca coming to apologize, but when I opened it, Serena was leaning against the frame.

She wore one of Luca’s oversized t-shirts, looking like she’d stepped out of a magazine.

She had a smirk on her face that made me want to slap the look right off her.

"You're very grumpy tonight, Aria," She said, pushing past me into my room.

"I'm tired, Serena. I just want to sleep. Get out," I said, my voice flat and exhausted.

She leaned against my dresser, looking at me with this fake, sugary pity that made my stomach turn.

"Is it really the noise that's bothering you? Or is it the person making me scream?" she asked.

I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck, my face burning with a humiliation I couldn't hide.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

"Oh come on. I'm not blind. Just admit it. You’re in love with him," she said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper.

"Every time he touches me, you feel like you're dying inside, don't you?" she asked.

I couldn't breathe. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

I looked past her and saw Luca standing in the hallway.

He was frozen there, his hair messy, his shirt unbuttoned. He had heard everything.

He looked confused and deeply uncomfortable, like he was looking at a car wreck he didn't want to be involved in.

He didn't defend me. He didn't tell her she was being cruel.

He just stood there, avoiding my gaze, letting the silence confirm everything Serena said.

"Get out," I told her.

My voice was trembling now, and I hated myself for it.

"Both of you. Get the fuck out of my room," I said.

Serena let out a soft, mean laugh and walked back into the hall.

Luca stayed for a second longer, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something, but he eventually just followed her back into her room.

I locked the door and stayed awake for a while, too embarrassed to stop thinking, replaying the look on his face, everything I should have said, everything I didn’t.

I didn’t even notice when I fell asleep.

★

The next morning was beyond awkward.

I tried to stay in my room as long as possible, but I eventually had to go to the kitchen for coffee.

I ran right into Luca.

He looked perfectly fine, looking like he’d slept for ten hours, while I looked like a ghost.

The eye bags were heavy under my eyes and my stare was probably enough to frighten the dead.

"Hey, Ri," he said.

He was acting like the fight last night didn't even happen.

"My mom called today," he said, pouring himself some juice.

"She wants to host a dinner for Serena this weekend. She wants to officially meet her," he continued.

I felt a sharp, icy pain in my chest that made it hard to swallow.

Luca had never brought a girl home to his parents before.

Not once in all the years I’d known him.

Only me.

I was the only girl who had ever met his family, and I had secretly convinced myself it would stay that way until it was my turn for real.

"That's nice," I said, keeping my voice as dead as I felt inside.

"I want you to come with us," he said. He beamed at me, like he was doing me a favor.

"It’ll be less awkward if you’re there you know. You can even study in the library at my house while we do the dinner," he added. He was serious.

He really expected me to sit at his family’s table and watch him play house with the girl who had just destroyed me.

He didn't care about my feelings. He didn't even care that Serena had humiliated me right in front of him.

To him, I was just a fixture. A doll that came along for the ride.

At that moment, I realized the truth.

He was serious about her. And I was officially being replaced.

"I can't go, Luca. I'm busy," I said.

"Busy with what? You always come home with me on weekends," he argued.

"Not anymore. I have plans," I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended.

I don’t owe you any explanation for how I choose to live my life.

I walked away before he could say another word. I went back into my room and pulled up my banking app. I stared at the balance, calculating every penny from my scholarship and my shifts.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me a deposit on a tiny room somewhere else.

I looked at the thin dorm walls and realized I couldn’t stay here another night.

I was done being the backup friend. Tonight, I’m leaving.

Chapter 1 She’s from the Asylum

[Welcome to Round 44 of Global Hide-and-Seek. Today’s instance: Rose Manor.]

[Participants for this round are in position. Players, take note — once the game begins, you’ll have thirty minutes to hide.]

[After thirty minutes, the Wraiths will enter the field and begin the hunt. Hunting window: three hours.]

[If caught, you die.]

[Your home nation will lose one region to a Wraith invasion.]

[Survivors will receive rewards.]

[Countdown begins now.]

Lyra Vance froze. She glanced down at herself — still in the same hospital gown, white with blue stripes, slippers on her feet.

Then she looked up at the crowd around her — every skin tone imaginable, jabbering in languages she couldn’t understand, faces twisted with panic and despair.

When the strange voice finished, a door appeared out of nowhere on the open ground, and everyone surged through it.

What was going on? Lyra felt completely lost.

*****

Draconia. Strategic Game Command Center.

On the enormous screen, livestream feeds of every participant popped up at once. In the column marked ‘Draconia,’ a girl in a hospital gown stood at the instance entrance, glancing around, her hair a mess, a dazed look on her face.

The chat exploded.

WhenWillTheyDie: [We’re done we’re done we’re done.]

DontHitMe: [Who did we draw this time?! Lyra — a little girl?]

DetailFreak: [Is she wearing… a hospital gown?]

NeverAteVeggies: [Draconia’s down to twelve regions. Lose another and where the hell do we squeeze in?]

NutrientGooSucks: [Can we please get a swap? Game gods, I’m begging you.]

PickMeGame: [Forty-three rounds in, we’ve already lost twenty-two regions. Looks like number twenty-three drops today.]

momo: [I am so sick of you people. Whoever gets drawn is fighting for the country. You can’t cheer for her, fine — don’t go breaking her down. And girls have pulled it off before.]

AureliaIsGuilty: [Exactly. If these players hadn’t won us living space, we’d still be holed up underground. No gratitude, get out.]

AnotherDayAlive: [Still, she’s in a hospital gown. The debuffs are maxed out.]

LuckyKoi: [Heavens above, please send every drop of my luck to this player.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Hilarious. Aurelia drew a special-forces operative, already scouting the terrain. Ours is still spacing out. Thank God my emigration application went through. I’m out of here.]

GoDraconia: [Traitor. Get lost.]

Inside the command center, no one spoke. Everyone snapped into work mode. Chief of Staff Lana Sterling kept her eyes locked on the screen, the rattle of keyboards the only sound in her ears.

The keyboards stopped. “Reporting. Participant’s name is Lyra Vance, female, twenty-two, from Everbright. Records show—” The officer broke off.

“What is it?” Lana frowned.

“Records show Lyra Vance was admitted to a psychiatric facility at age seven. She’s never been discharged,” a staffer reported.

Lana’s frown deepened. “Seven? You’re telling me she’s been institutionalized for fifteen years? Never once left?”

“Correct, ma’am. After the nuclear war, her entire family died. No guardian ever came to sign her out,” the staffer replied.

Lana ordered, “Pull every medical file she has.”

An aide replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

Lana watched the chat skew uglier and turned to another aide. “Steer the public mood upward. And monitor the networks, anyone running her down, ban the account.”

An aide replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

*****

Back on the livestream, the chat was getting nasty.

RunForIt: [Folks, time to write your wills.]

BornToCuss: [Write your own damn will, dickhead!]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Draconia’s luck is finished. If you’ve got the means, find a way out.]

BornToCuss: [Finished your ass. Find your mother.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [Aurelia’s accepting refugees. Catch: vassal status.]

GoDraconia: [Shut your mouth up there. Traitor.]

BornToCuss: [Accept your ass.]

ApplyingToEmigrate: [I’m not wrong though. Look at Aurelia — they drew a special-forces operative. Look at us? A mental patient? (Message failed to send.)]

LuckyKoi: [She moved. She moved.]

On the screen, Lyra finally took a step. She wasn’t running, she walked slowly toward the door, trailing her hand along the wall as she went.

She drifted into Rose Manor that way. Once inside, she found shards of broken mirror scattered across the ground. She picked up a piece. The girl in the reflection had a thin face that made her eyes look enormous, with dark shadows beneath them.

That washed-out, blue-tinged pallor that came from years without sunlight.

She replayed that mechanical announcement in her head, twice over.

Hide-and-seek. Wraiths. Three hours. Death.

She drew in a deep breath. The air carried the scent of roses. Roses, trees, fountains, statues, the manor itself.

This was real.

Not the white walls, white lights, white ceilings of the ward. Not the scheduled pills or the orderlies’ blank-faced check-ins. Not the restraints that had pinned her to the bed. No bite of disinfectant in the air.

The corner of Lyra’s mouth twitched up. Then twitched again. Then she couldn’t hold it back, she dropped into a crouch, wrapped her arms around her knees, curled herself into a ball, and her shoulders began to shake.

The chat assumed she was crying.

momo: [Yeah… honestly, who wouldn’t be terrified?]

GoDraconia: [Don’t cry, sweetheart. Find somewhere to hide. You might just make it through.]

NutrientGooSucks: [Poor girl. Only twenty-two.]

BornToCuss: [Anyone fighting for this country deserves respect! One more person talks shit and I’ll show you what generations of trash-talk can really do.]

The next second, the girl curled on the ground tilted her head up. She was laughing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard. She tipped backward and lay flat on the broken glass, the back of her hospital gown smudging with dust and grit. She didn’t care. Her wild laughter rang out, loud enough to fill the empty manor.

The sound echoed across the open grounds, and other players’ hearts jumped, they thought the Wraiths had arrived early.

The chat went dead silent.

Lyra lay on the ground, arms spread wide, staring up at blue sky and white clouds.

“I’m out,” she murmured.

Then she shot upright, the laughter not quite wiped from her face, her eyes still red. “Ha. Wraiths or no Wraiths — who cares. I’m finally out.”

Lyra pushed herself up, dusted off her backside, and shuffled deeper into the manor in her slippers.

Twenty-three minutes left on the countdown.

A few steps in, she stopped abruptly, tilted her head as if watching something — except there was nothing there. Only a wall.

She stared at the wall, thoughtful. “So you’re already here.”

Inside the command center, Lana stared at the screen, studying the young woman’s reaction.

The countdown kept ticking.

[22:19]

The Wraiths weren’t supposed to enter for another twenty-two minutes. So who exactly was she talking to?

Chapter 1 The Day My Husband Threw Me to the Beasts    

The day my Halvard University acceptance letter arrived, my husband's childhood sweetheart burst into tears and begged me to give her my spot.

When I refused, she kept pleading.

"Lizbeth, it was my mother's dying wish that I get into a top school. Please, please let me have this chance."

"No. I worked hard for this opportunity, too. If you want to go, take the exam yourself."

I walked out on the spot.

That night, Chadwick Kingston came home and fixed me with a heavy stare.

"She almost jumped off a building today. Couldn't you just give her the spot?"

I was baffled.

"If she didn't get in, it just means she lacks perseverance and didn't work hard enough. How else could she fail every single school?"

"You… fine."

Chadwick sighed helplessly. Seeing how upset I was, he considerately handed me my asthma inhaler. After taking a few puffs, I quickly fell asleep.

When I woke up again, I was lying in an arena, my limbs too weak to move.

In the stands, Chadwick had his arm around Jennie Sawyer, watching me with a cold sneer.

"Didn't you say that with enough perseverance and hard work, anyone can do anything? Then use your own perseverance to walk out of here."

All around me, cages were packed with wild beasts. They stared at me hungrily, and the air reeked of animal blood.

The crowd in the stands jeered at my frail figure, betting on how long I would last.

I pressed the emergency alert on my necklace and spoke.

"Come get me. And I don't want to see the Kingston Group anymore."

…

Before I finished, the audience burst into laughter.

They looked at me like I was insane.

"Mr. Kingston, has your wife lost her mind? Talking nonsense like that?"

"Everyone knows her brother gambled away his life, and the Fergusons are finished. And she still thinks she's the Capaville princess?"

"I bet she won't make it out of this arena. Half an hour at most, and the tigers will get her. I've always hated those smug overachievers, acting like they're better than everyone."

"I give her ten minutes before she begs for mercy, just watch!"

The tigers and wolves in the cages roared, baring their bloodstained fangs at me. The sight chilled me to the bone.

With my trembling, weakened hands, I picked up the dagger beside me and clutched it tightly, hoping for some small sense of safety.

But the hounds that had been circling me suddenly lunged. I swung the blade frantically, trying to scare them off, but one knocked me to the ground.

As its long, sharp teeth grew larger in my vision, I drove the dagger into its mouth with all my strength.

The next second, it collapsed straight down on top of me. I shoved it off and gasped for air.

Chadwick watched with a faint smile. He peeled grapes for Jennie and spoke casually.

"Just admit you were wrong and give Jennie your admission slot, and I'll let you out. Otherwise…"

I looked up at the two of them, my voice trembling with fear and a hint of tears.

"Chadwick, how could you do this to me?"

On cue, Jennie let tears fall, bit her lip, and spoke in a choked voice.

"Chadwick, it's my fault I'm so stupid… I've tried for years and still can't get in. You should just let Lizbeth go.

"Maybe this is my fate. I was never meant to fulfill my mother's wish. I'll always be a terrible daughter."

I had actually recommended several suitable schools to her back then, but she ignored them. Instead, after failing, she came begging for my spot.

Before I could explain, Chadwick comforted her tenderly. His eyes turned vicious when they landed on me, and his voice went ice cold.

"Did you feel any guilt when you pushed Jennie to the brink of suicide? I'm just returning the favor.

"Guards! Release the tigers!"

Hearing his merciless order, my heart sank like a stone.

After my brother gambled himself into disappearance, Chadwick was even more devastated than I was. He took even more careful care of me.

A while later, he suggested merging our two family groups under his sole management. I agreed without hesitation.

But once he took power, he grew increasingly impatient with me. He even moved his childhood sweetheart into our home.

Watching the two of them act so intimately, I couldn't help arguing with him. He brushed me off.

"You're so petty. We've known each other since we were kids. If I had any feelings for her, I wouldn't have married you."

After that, they became even more shameless. Whenever my expression was slightly off, Chadwick would immediately accuse me of overthinking.

Even when Jennie was in a bad mood, Chadwick blamed me. He once left me stranded on the highway without a word, and I lost my first child.

Hearing the cage doors rise, I pulled myself back to the present and wiped away the tears I hadn't realized were falling.

Up in the stands, Chadwick saw the tears at the corner of my eyes and hesitated.

"Lizbeth, why are you crying? Are you finally feeling the same helplessness and despair I felt standing on that rooftop?

"Chadwick, you should let her go. Don't make her experience that horrible feeling."

Jennie looked so gentle and kind. Chadwick's hesitation was instantly replaced by anger and resentment.

"Jennie, you're too soft. Guards, take her dagger away."

Chapter 1 Half a Mil, for Your Funeral

"Helen, the Morgans have raised you for 20 years. We've done more than enough. Sign the papers."

Jacob Morgan slid a thick stack of legal documents across the mahogany desk toward her.

Then, with a detached calm, he pushed a check across the polished surface. "Here's 500,000 dollars," he said flatly. "Consider it compensation. After all, we were father and daughter once."

Helen stood before the desk, the faint scent of lavender drifting in the air. A cold, derisive smile touched her eyes.

"Five Hundred thousand?" Her lips curved in a mocking arc. "To buy out two decades? Am I really that cheap in your eyes, Jacob? Or is this paltry sum all the mighty Morgans can actually scrape together?"

Three months ago, the Morgans had discovered Helen wasn't their biological daughter. They'd spent a small fortune to track down and finally found her—Lydia Morgan.

The real daughter of the Morgans had come home.

With their biological daughter now home, Helen, who had been dumped in the countryside as a child and only brought back four years ago, had become disposable trash.

"What? Five hundred grand's not good enough for you?" Sienna Blyth's face twisted with disgust, her manicured nails tapping sharply against the desk. "Your real family in that backwater town would need years to earn that! Stop being ungrateful and sign it! Once you do, you and the Morgans are through. Clean break!"

"Mom, please, don't say that ... " It was true what they said—money refines a person. Two months back in the mansion and she was already picture-perfect: hair curled to perfection, wearing designer tweed and diamond earrings that sparkled under the sunlight.

Her face was sweet and gentle, her voice laced with honey. "Helen has been accustomed to a certain life for so many years, living in a mansion as a wealthy heiress. It's only natural she'd be reluctant to go back to ... rural living."

She'd heard all about Helen's origins. Dirt poor.

A bedridden grandfather, a deadbeat unemployed father, and three brothers who couldn't afford to get married.

The whole family was practically a nest of parasites.

Helen would probably be sold off for money the moment she returned.

A smug satisfaction curled inside Lydia. She deliberately emphasized the word "rural," all while studying Helen's reaction.

When her eyes fell on Helen's face, exquisitely stunning even in the harsh afternoon light, a flicker of pure envy shot through her.

She tilted her head, voice still syrupy-sweet. "I did hear your family lives in one of those ... low-income neighborhoods? But still, blood's thicker than water. Better to go home to your real family than staying here where you have to beg for kindness, right?"

She stressed the word "real," lacing it with triumphant glee.

The whole performance was so theatrically pathetic it almost made Helen laugh aloud. "Is that what happens when you spend too long in the gutter, Lydia? Forgetting basic manners now that you're back among the civilized?"

Helen's cool gaze swept over her. "Can't complain; I suppose it's in the blood."

That one line sliced clean through all three Morgans at once.

Sienna's face went red. She slammed a palm on the desk and shot to her feet, ready to explode.

But Helen's composed voice cut in. "I'll sign."

Sienna's tirade died in her throat.

Chapter 1: Are You Pregnant?

Chapter 1: Are You Pregnant?

(Aria's POV)

"I have wonderful news, Luna," Dr. Sarah Mills said, her blue eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. "You're pregnant! About six weeks along. Everything looks perfect."

My hand flew to my mouth. After a full year of disappointment, of watching Alexander's face fall each time I shook my head, we finally had our miracle.

Dr. Mills handed me a folder of prenatal papers and vitamin schedules. "You've been so patient throughout this process. I'm truly happy for you and Alpha Reed."

Alexander. I needed to tell him immediately.

I practically floated out of Silvercrest Hospital, clutching the folder to my chest. Our pack would finally have its heir. My wolf, Ember, purred with contentment inside me for the first time in months.

I told my driver to take me to the pack house immediately. As the car pulled away from the hospital, my phone rang. Mother's face appeared on the screen, her warm amber eyes crinkling at the corners from her smile in the photo.

"Hi, Mother," I answered, unable to keep the excitement from my voice.

"Little wolf," she said, using my childhood nickname. Her voice sounded weaker today, I noticed with a pang. "How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm good. How are you feeling today?" I asked, concerned about the fatigue in her tone.

"Oh, the same." She dismissed her condition like always. "I was thinking about you and Alexander. Have you discussed the formal mating ceremony yet?"

I bit my lip. The traditional ceremony should have happened shortly after our official mating, but Alexander's grandfather had fallen ill, and then there were always pack matters, business deals, territory negotiations...

"We haven't set a date yet," I admitted.

Mother's sigh was soft but filled with longing. "I would love to see you both participate in the ceremony before I..." She trailed off.

"Don't talk like that," I said quickly. "You'll be fine."

"Dear, we both know my condition isn't improving." Her pragmatism was gentle but firm. "It would mean everything to me to see my daughter properly celebrated as Luna before I pass."

My throat tightened. "We're planning it, Mother. I promise."

"Good," she said, sounding relieved. "I love you, dear."

"I love you too."

After hanging up, guilt gnawed at me. I hadn't exactly lied, but Alexander hadn't mentioned the ceremony in months. Now with the baby coming, though, surely he would want to make everything official.

My phone rang again. Alexander's name flashed on the screen.

"Alexander!" I answered eagerly. "I have amazing-"

"Aria," he cut me off, his voice pitched low and professional. "I'll be working late tonight. Don't wait up."

I frowned. "But I have something important to tell you."

A feminine laugh sounded in the background. My spine stiffened.

"Sorry, can't talk now. Important meeting. I'll see you tomorrow." He hung up before I could respond.

I stared at my phone in disbelief, then reopened social media. Claire had posted again just two minutes ago: "Visiting the pack house" with a photo of a man's back by a large window. The broad shoulders and golden-brown hair were unmistakable. Alexander.

My chest tightened as I stepped out of the car at the Reed Pack headquarters, noticing the massive LED display on the building's facade.

Claire's face beamed down at me, her perfect smile announcing her as "Chief Healer of Reed Pack's New Healing Institution."

When had that happened? Alexander hadn't mentioned any new appointment.

I pushed open his office door without knocking.

Alexander stood by his desk, leaning over documents. Claire sat comfortably on the leather couch, legs tucked beneath her as if she belonged there. Both looked up at my entrance.

"Aria," Alexander straightened, surprise flickering across his handsome face. "I thought I told you I was working late."

"You did." I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. "But I needed to see you."

Claire's smile was honey-sweet as she stood. "Aria! What a lovely surprise. Alexander and I were just discussing my new position."

I ignored her, focusing on Alexander. "I need to speak with you. Alone."

Alexander frowned. "Claire is our chief healer now. Whatever you need to say-"

"Is private," I finished firmly.

Claire placed a hand on Alexander's arm, the gesture casual yet possessive. "Don't worry, I understand mate things." She winked at me. "Though you should know, Aria, there's no need to be territorial. Alexander and I have been friends since we were pups."

More than friends, I thought bitterly, but kept my expression neutral.

Alexander stepped toward me, finally giving me his full attention. "What is it? You look... different."

I felt a flutter of hope. Maybe he could sense the change in me already. I took a deep breath and reached for his hand.

"Alexander, I-"

A sharp crash interrupted me. Claire had knocked over her crystal water glass, sending shards scattering across the hardwood floor.

"Oh!" she cried out, bending to pick up the pieces. "I'm so clumsy!"

"Don't touch that!" Alexander immediately released my hand and rushed to her side. "You'll cut yourself."

Too late. A small gasp escaped Claire as blood welled from her index finger. The scent hit the air-sharp, tangy, distinctive.

Alexander's protective instincts flared instantly. He crouched beside her, taking her hand in his with a gentleness that made my wolf whimper in confusion.

"What were you thinking?" he scolded, but his tone was soft with concern. "Let me see."

I stood frozen, watching my mate tend to another woman with care that should have been reserved for me alone. The scene felt surreal, like I was watching from outside my body.

Claire looked up at me through her lashes. "Oh, it's nothing serious - I'm just clumsy. Please, go ahead with what you were saying, Aria."

Her tone was gracious, yielding - the picture of a considerate friend stepping aside. But the damage was already done. My moment was shattered, the words I'd rehearsed scattered like the glass on the floor. And she knew it.

I managed a strained smile, my heart fracturing along invisible fault lines.

"I should get this cleaned properly," Claire said, making no move to withdraw her hand from Alexander's. She stood, and he rose with her, still holding her injured finger. "You two continue your... show of affection. I'll see myself out."

The way she said "show of affection" carried a subtle challenge - not the words of an outsider making an innocent remark, but of someone who knew exactly how little affection existed between Alexander and me. As if she had been keeping score.

As Claire passed through the doorway, her gaze lingered briefly on the portrait of Richard Reed hanging in the hallway. Her lips curved into the faintest smile - a private, satisfied expression that vanished before anyone else could catch it. I noticed, but the thought had no time to take root.

Because the lingering scent of Claire's expensive perfume mixed with her blood hit me differently now - my wolf's senses heightened by pregnancy.

Nausea rolled through me in a violent wave. I bolted for the bathroom and barely made it before emptying my stomach.

When I finally straightened, wiping my mouth, Alexander stood in the doorway. His expression shifted - but not to the joy I'd imagined. A shadow of something crossed his face first. Unease. Almost dread. Then it settled into a careful frown.

"Aria, you..." Alexander studied me for a long moment. "You... are you pregnant?"

Chapter 1 Reborn Again, But Where's My System?!

Reginald Haines pressed his dagger against Margaret Greene's neck. The blade was sharp—it cut right through her skin. Blood ran down her pale throat and dripped onto the pure white carpet. The contrast was shocking.

She didn't fight back. She just stared quietly at the man she had spent three whole years simping for. His deep, handsome eyes held no pity at all—only pure, deep disgust.

"Margie," Reginald said, his voice sharper than the blade itself. "You're not even good enough to be Nicole's stand-in anymore."

Nicole Hobb leaned weakly against his chest. She put on her usual fake, whiny voice—sickly sweet and grating. "Oh, Margie, I'm so sorry. Don't be mad at Reginald. He just loves me too much. He can't stand to see me hurt in any way."

But at that moment, Margaret couldn't hear a word Nicole was saying. Because a loud death alarm was blaring inside her head.

"Warning. Warning. The male lead's affection has dropped to zero. The host is about to face forced elimination by the system. Please take immediate survival measures. Now."

Then came the desperate, almost-sobbing voice of her system, Vex—the one that had been with her for three years. "Host! Host, don't just stand there! Do something! Cry! Get on your knees and beg him to forgive you! We've taken knives for him, given him our blood—three years of this! He must still have some feelings for you!"

Feelings?

Margaret looked into Reginald's cold, empty eyes. And then she smiled.

To hell with survival measures.

To hell with the doormat mission!

To hell with being the substitute heroine.

She was done with this rotten story. She didn't want to serve it another single day.

Reginald frowned. He thought she was about to beg like usual, wagging an imaginary tail. But Margaret suddenly exploded. Out of nowhere, she found a fierce burst of strength. She didn't try to push the deadly blade away. Instead, she grabbed Reginald's wrist—the one holding the knife—and with a smile of pure defiance, she yanked it hard against her own carotid artery.

A gush of blood sprayed out.

It splashed across half of Reginald's face. His eyes—always so cold—finally cracked wide open with absolute shock.

As the intense pain exploded inside her, the world went quiet.

Let it all end here.

Margaret had been physically transported into this book world. If her body died, her soul would be erased by the system, too. That was the escape she had always wanted.

But then... she opened her eyes again.

The first thing she saw was a rippling, blue, water-like light moving across the ceiling. It was flashy and gaudy—the kind of thing a cold, minimalist man like Reginald would never like. She stared at it for three full seconds. Then it hit her: this was definitely not a hospital. And it didn't look like hell either.

What is this? Does the system believe in recycling garbage? Has it given me another suffering mission?

Margaret didn't even have the energy to sigh.

Can't I just die in peace?

She tried calling out in her mind, "Vex?"

But she got nothing, just a terrifying, empty silence.

Margaret continued, "Hey, don't play dead. I know you can hear me. Didn't I fail the mission? Erase me or do whatever you want. I don't care. So why are you playing dead now? And where the hell is this?"

Her shouts echoed through the hollow space in her mind... and then faded away.

Vex is gone?

That mechanical voice—the one that had stayed with her for three whole years, the one that secretly played funny videos for her after Reginald humiliated her, the one that clumsily said, "Don't cry, host. We'll try again next time," when Nicole set her up—was that voice really gone forever?

She was all alone again in this world.

But before she could swallow the bitterness rising in her throat, an extremely impatient voice hit her ears. "You're awake. So stop playing dead."

Margaret slowly moved her eyes.

Three men stood by her bed. Well, to be precise, they didn't look like ordinary "men." They were at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and long legs. Even stranger, they had unusual hair colors and eye colors. Their faces were handsome—like the top-tier cosplayers she had seen back in her original world.

But the vibe they gave off—that top-predator energy—pressed down on her weak body and made her chest feel tight. It was physically uncomfortable.

The silver-haired man on the left looked down at her like she was trash.

"How dare you pass out?" The man let out a mocking laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Who are you performing for? You think playing possum will buy you time?"

The blue-haired man in the middle seemed a bit gentler. He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, but his tone was just as cold. "Margaret, since you're awake, let's talk about the divorce."

The moment he spoke, Margaret froze.

How does he know that name?

She had only ever told Vex the name "Margaret." In the orphanage on Earth, she was called Margie Greene. Before she set the fire and died with her abusers, she was Margie. In the book world, as a three-year substitute simp, she was also Margie.

Only in the depths of countless torturous, sleepless nights had she told Vex, "When I finish this mission, I'm going to rename myself Margaret. Burn the past completely. Be reborn."

So how does this stranger know?

Margaret lifted her heavy eyelids and looked at them. The red-haired man on the right didn't even glance at her. He was busy fiddling with the high-tech Holo-bracelet on his wrist, looking annoyed. "Why are we wasting words on her?" he said. "Just get her to sign the papers and kick her out."

Then, as if one hand wasn't enough, he ripped the Holo-bracelet off his wrist and started tapping rapidly on the virtual screen with his long fingers.

Margaret frowned. Then she did something that made all three arrogant men pause at the same time. She closed her eyes, pulled up the blanket, and lay back down on the bed—peacefully.

"Vex?" She tried again in her mind—still dead silence.

"It's really gone..." she murmured to herself, offering a bitter, mocking smile.

Fine. At least it's quiet now.

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through her mind with a flash of white light. Then memories—the "original host's" memories—came flooding in like shards of broken glass.

Interstellar Era... Beastmen Empire... S-class males... gene matching... a worthless female with C-class spiritual power...

She was still trying to process the massive amount of information, but the three noble S-class men in front of her clearly didn't have that much patience.

"Are you deaf?" The silver-haired beastman had completely lost his patience. He reached out with his large hand to grab her shoulder.

According to the memory fragments that had just flashed through her mind, this hot-tempered, silver-haired man was named Raikes Walker. His true form was a silver wolf, and he was also one of her legal "husbands."

Before his hand could touch her, Margaret threw off the blanket and sat up in bed like a shot.

The sudden movement—combined with the original host's already weak constitution—made her dizzy. Her vision went dark for a moment. But she gritted her teeth, swallowed down the weakness, and sat up straight. Her eyes stared directly at the three men—her "husbands."

"Just now," she said, her voice hoarse from dehydration. "You said something?"

Raikes' hand froze in midair. He frowned. "Yeah? So what?"

This woman usually didn't even dare to breathe loudly around us. How dare she look at me like that today?

"What did you say? Say it again." Margaret picked at her ear, looking completely serious. "I had ringing in my ears. Didn't catch it."

Kiran Noah, the blue-haired one in the middle who seemed the most patient, frowned slightly. He suppressed the strange feeling rising in his chest and repeated, "We hope you'll agree to dissolve the marriage. The forced match between you and us was a system error. Continuing this is torture for everyone."

Chapter 1 Hidden Love

Platinum International was the most extravagant den of high-stakes indulgence in Salt City.

Up on the penthouse level of the club, the lights were intentionally dimmed. Only a few stray beams of pale gold spilled down from above, tracing the smooth contours of the leather sofa. It was a custom Nappa piece identical to those found in a Rolls-Royce, and it felt as soft to the touch as melted dark chocolate.

Three men lounged casually on the sofa. Though their postures seemed relaxed, they could not mask the innate aura of powerful men born to rule.

Around them were other men and women.

Some were pure, some wild, some intellectual, some cute. They were like carefully curated collectibles, and each came with a clear price tag.

"Eric, tonight's selection was tailored exactly to your tastes."

Conan Rivers swirled the Romanée-Conti in his glass, raising an eyebrow at the man sitting motionless in the center.

"Even Sam broke his rule and had three glasses tonight. You're not actually going to sit there like a statue of Buddha, are you?"

Sam Evans, who had just been named, had one hand draped over a woman's shoulder.

He let out a soft chuckle. The indifferent gaze behind his glasses was like a thin blade on a winter night, piercing right toward Eric Gill.

Eric was acting a bit strange tonight.

With a sharp click, Eric snapped his lighter shut against the gilded coffee table. The flickering flame illuminated his sharp, chiseled jawline.

His eyes swept over the surrounding circle of so-called beauties, and he loosened his tie.

"Conan, your taste is getting worse and worse."

The black shirt clung tightly to his lean, powerful torso. His sleeves were rolled halfway up, revealing well-defined, veiny forearms that hinted at explosive strength in every line.

Yet his stern brow remained tightly furrowed, his ink-black eyes swirling with a dark, turbulent hostility.

"I think I like someone!"

Summer Gill's voice still seemed to echo in his ears, sweet and soft like melted honey.

Those almond eyes of hers had been shining brightly, as if filled with starlight.

When she smiled at him, her dimples showed faintly, innocent and endearing.

But at that exact moment, all the blood in his body had gone cold.

How can she like someone else?

Eric closed his eyes, forcing himself to push Summer out of his mind.

When he opened them again, the darkness in his gaze had deepened.

He looked up at Conan and Sam. They knew his ruthless, decisive tactics in the business world; they knew his scheming nature as he turned the tides within the family; they knew all his dark, hidden sides.

But they didn't know that he had developed feelings for Summer that he never should have.

In everyone else's eyes, she was his sister. But they shared no blood relation.

From the time Summer was young and innocent, he had held her in the palm of his hand to protect her, spoiling her and indulging all her little whims.

But now, she was telling him that she had fallen for someone else.

Conan looked incredulous, raising his eyebrows dramatically. "My taste is getting worse?!"

He paused for two seconds, then suddenly leaned in with a sly grin, sliding over to sit right next to Eric and throwing a familiar arm around his shoulder. "Who are you kidding? There's definitely something wrong with you! Come on, spill it. Has our battle-hardened Eric actually found true love, and that's why you have zero interest in this dazzling array of beauties?"

Eric clenched his jaw, grabbed the straight liquor from the table, tilted his head back, and downed it in one gulp.

To hell with it! True love? I don't know what true love is.

But I have never felt this suffocated and frustrated in my entire life!

The harsh alcohol burned his throat, but it couldn't suppress the wave of resentment churning in his chest.

Seeing him like this, Conan's playful expression turned serious.

He exchanged a look with Sam, a flash of surprise passing between their eyes.

Yet Eric simply tossed back another glass of the strong liquor, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily.

Clearly, he still had no intention of saying a word.

He pushed Conan away, his voice sounding as if it had been scraped by sandpaper. "I'm in a bad mood today. You guys head out first."

Conan had never seen Eric look this dejected and gloomy.

It was as if something was tearing at his chest, crushing his usual reckless, arrogant demeanor into dust.

Growing up, Eric had always been the most rebellious and fiercely independent one among their circle, his eyes forever carrying a proud, sharp edge.

Since taking over Gill Corp, he had become even more powerful, cold, and utterly ruthless. No one in the business world dared to cross him.

Conan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with a bit more gravity. "Eric, did something happen that even Sam and I can't hear about?"

Eric suddenly let out a low laugh.

The next split second, he propped both hands on the back of the sofa, his aura instantly turning razor-sharp and imposing, as if his momentary lapse in control just now had been nothing but an illusion.

"What could possibly happen to me?"

The corners of his lips curled slightly as his gaze swept over the elaborately dressed women in the private room, a flash of distaste crossing his eyes.

"I don't care for any of them."

His long fingers casually spun the empty wine glass. His gaze was deep and cool as he added another line. "Not interested today."

Conan and Sam looked at each other, a trace of helplessness appearing in both their eyes.

Didn't he organize this gathering himself?

Could he at least come up with a better excuse?

In the middle of the night, a single phone call had dragged them out of their comfortable beds. Following his usual routine, he had arranged for a crowd of gorgeous, striking women, called up a few eager tagalongs, and opened the most expensive wine.

And this was the result? After sitting here for barely half an hour, Eric was telling them with a cold face that he wasn't interested? Something was definitely off.

Sam tapped his finger against his glass and said quietly, "Should we take off?"

Conan caught his drift and waved his hand lazily. "Let's call it a night then. We'll gather another day."

If there was something Eric didn't want to talk about, there was no prying it out of him.

The previously lively atmosphere in the private room instantly ground to a halt.

The smiles froze on the faces of the beautifully dressed women, and the wine in their hands suddenly lost its appeal.

Especially the newcomers.

They had been hoping to make some connections tonight, but now they could only stand up reluctantly, walking away in their high heels with disappointed expressions.

Conan took one last glance at Eric.

The man was still leaning back against the sofa, a cigarette clamped between his fingers. Amidst the swirling smoke, those dark eyes were terrifyingly cold.

What a complete mystery... He shook his head, closed the door, and left.

Once everyone had gone, the massive private room fell instantly silent.

Eric leaned back into the leather sofa.

Glass after glass, the strong liquor slid down his throat, yet it failed to burn away the heavy, restless irritation sinking deep into his chest.

...

An hour later.

The thick scent of alcohol invaded every inch of the air, making even his breaths carry a burning, drunken warmth.

He was half-reclined on the sofa.

The collar of his black shirt was slightly open, his collarbone casting a pale, cool glow under the dim lighting.

Chapter 1 Exiled At 18

Beastfolk Empire, outside the Foxworth family estate.

The massive bronze gates stood over 12 feet tall. Carved into them was the Foxworths' crest—a fox howling at the moon, five tails spread behind it; dark red energy stones were set into its eyes. At that moment, they seemed to stare coldly down at the steps below.

Renna Foxworth was dragged by the arms by two guards and thrown out like a bag of trash.

Her body flew through the air in an arc before she miserably slammed onto the gravel-covered driveway. Her knees struck the sharp stones, sending a burning pain through her legs.

A second later, her suitcase came flying after her. It slammed into the ground, bounced once, then rolled several feet before the cheap latch gave way with a crack. The case sprang open, scattering a handful of old clothes across the dirt. The fabric was faded from years of washing, with loose threads hanging from the seams.

Renna lay face-down on the rough gravel. The skin on her palms had been scraped raw. Tiny beads of blood mixed with dust and sand. Then everything went black.

A woman stood just inside the gate. She wore a perfectly tailored dark purple robe embroidered with silver patterns along the hem. The outfit made her look elegant, powerful, and distant.

Her features resembled Renna's slightly, but her eyes held nothing except cold indifference. She looked at Renna the way someone might look at a broken tool. Without emotion. Without pity.

Amber Foxworth. The current head of the Foxworths. The family's greatest prodigy with S-rank mental power. A talent every major power in the Empire wanted to recruit.

Standing inside the gate, she was bathed in sunlight. The doorway cast a sharp shadow across the ground, dividing the two women like they belonged to different worlds.

"An FF-rank mental ability." Amber's voice was calm and steady. "We don't need trash like you." She sounded as if she were stating a simple fact. Nothing more.

She didn't even bother looking at Renna again but simply walked away. The hem of her robe fluttered lightly behind her.

Renna remained on the ground. A loud ringing filled her head. It felt as if a hundred drums were pounding beside her ears. Then memories came rushing in like a broken dam.

Beastworld. Females. Mental power. Comforting mental breakdowns. Mates.

Countless pieces of information crashed through her mind. Images flashed one after another. At three years old, she had been carried to a testing tablet for her first test. The stone had burst with bright red light. The excitement on everyone's faces had instantly turned into disappointment.

After that, she had been abandoned in a quiet corner of the estate. For more than ten years, no one cared about her. No one taught her anything. Sometimes servants remembered to bring her food. Sometimes they forgot. When they forgot, she simply went hungry.

And just today, she had been taken away for another test. The same red light appeared. Her rank was unmistakable. FF Rank.

Then she was thrown out.

It took Renna several minutes to untangle the flood of memories and piece together the original Renna's memories. When the pain in her body returned, she finally accepted the truth. She had transmigrated.

This was Beastworld. The intelligent races living on the continent were known as beastfolk. They were divided into males and females.

Male beastfolk were born powerful. Many awakened unique abilities. Their bodies were strong enough to rival steel. In their beast forms, they could tear through almost anything. But their strength came with a dangerous flaw.

Every time they fought or used their abilities, they slowly consumed their mental energy. Inside every male beastfolk was a mental field, fragile as a house built on the edge of a cliff. The more power they used, the more that foundation crumbled away.

Once a male's mental stability score passed the critical threshold, he would lose control and enter a berserk state. His reason would be swallowed completely by his wild instincts. Friend or foe no longer mattered. He would rampage until he either collapsed from exhaustion or was put down on the spot.

Female beastfolk, on the other hand, almost never awakened any real combat abilities. Instead, they possessed the rare gift of mental soothing. A female's mental power was like a gentle hand. It could pull a male back from the edge of collapse, calm his raging mind, and smooth over the cracks tearing through his mental state.

High-ranking females could soothe several males at once. On the battlefield, they were the true backbone of the Empire.

The Foxworths were a perfect example. Their bloodline was famous for producing females with powerful mental abilities. The weakest among them possessed at least B-rank mental power.

The problem was that families like the Foxworths were incredibly rare. Females were even rarer.

The numbers were ridiculously low. Across the Beastworld, the ratio of females to males was roughly one to 300. In other words, for every 300 male beastfolk, there was only one female.

For that reason, the law clearly stated that every adult female must have at least three beast mates.

Not a privilege, but a responsibility. Every high-ranking female was a walking source of mental support. Their very existence was considered a strategic resource of the Empire.

An S-rank female was an asset every major power fought to claim. An A-rank female was treated like royalty wherever she went. B-rank females were highly sought after.

As for C-rank and D-rank females, they might not attract the same attention, but they would never have to worry about food, money, or a place to live. Any small or mid-sized family would gladly welcome them and provide a comfortable life.

But F-rank? That was considered worthless.

And the original Renna was an FF-rank.

Worse than worthless.

The moment her second test ended today, her family threw her out without a second thought. They did not care that she was still young and should have been under her family's protection.

The Proposal.

Jessica's Pov

“Mhmm…” I let out a soft moan, my fingers kneading my breasts as waves of pleasure rippled through me.

The rose vibrator hummed relentlessly against my clit, drawing stars across my vision, but in my fevered imagination, it wasn’t silicone—it was Aaron’s mouth, his tongue teasing me with a wicked precision only he could dream up.

Heavens, the thought of him, my roommate, my eternal crush, had me teetering on the edge.

“Yes,” I hissed, cranking up the speed, my hips bucking involuntarily.

I was so close, stars bursting behind my eyelids, when—damn it—the jingle of keys shattered the silence, followed by the unmistakable creak of the front door.

No. No, no, no. Not again. This was the second time this week he’d ruined my orgasm.

I flicked off the toy with a frustrated groan and shoved it under my pillow, my chest rising and falling like I’d just hauled up a flight of stairs.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, even though the room was cool from the slightly open window, and blasting air conditioner.

I froze, my eyes glued to the ceiling as I listened to his heavy footsteps thud closer.

Our bedroom door creaked open, and I slammed my eyes shut, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Please don’t smell it, I begged silently. The air was thick with my scent, musky and unapologetic. Could he? Guys were supposed to have that sixth sense, right?

And worse…..what if he’d heard me moaning his name earlier? That would be mortifying.

“Quit faking it, Jess. I know you’re wide awake.” His voice rolled over me like dark honey, deep enough to drown in, vibrating through the quiet room and straight to my already throbbing pussy.

I stayed perfectly still, holding my breath, hoping he’d buy it and leave.

The silence dragged on, and I figured he’d given up, stalked off to the bathroom or the kitchen.

I cracked one eye open to peek, and there he was, his gorgeous face hovering inches from mine, those honey-brown eyes sparkling with an infuriating mix of mischief and mockery.

A squeak escaped me, half-yelp, half-laugh, and I slapped my palms over my burning cheeks.

“Jesus, Aaron! Personal space much?”

He chuckled, low and rough, pulling back just enough to loom instead of invade.

“Why are you still awake? I thought you had that big test tomorrow.” He straightened up, his tone casual, like he hadn’t just scared the life out of me.

I sat up slowly, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, trying to hide how flustered I was.

He turned away then, thank God, yanking off his jersey in one smooth pull.

Sweat glistened on his inked muscles, the tattoos flexing as he moved—dragons and symbols that told stories I was dying to trace with my fingers.

I heard my pussy purr, and I pressed my knees tight to prevent the juices from coating my bed. Down, girl. Not now.

I’ve been in love with Aaron Tyrone for what feels like forever.

It’s been my quiet curse since we were kids scraping knees in the neighborhood. He was the villain in my story back then—my next-door bully, the one everyone whispered about like he was cursed.

“Bad news,” they’d say, crossing the street to avoid him. But my bruised little heart? It latched on anyway, because it was the only attention I ever got from anyone.

At home, I was invisible. My dad poured all his love into my step-siblings, and my stepmom never missed a chance to remind me I was “bad luck” because Mom died giving birth to me. I was the shadow girl, overlooked and forgotten.

And yeah, Aaron was hot—even at twelve, with that jaw already cutting edges, dark hair flopping over his forehead until he’d shove it back, revealing those endless brown eyes that could pin you in place. Straight nose, lips made for sin—I’d replayed kissing them in a million stolen dreams.

He bullied me, sure, but he’d muscle in like a guard dog if anyone else tried: “Back off, she’s mine to mess with.” Toxic as hell. I knew it, I should have bolted. But that possessiveness? It hooked me deep, and damn if I didn’t crave the burn.

How we ended up roommates? Pure desperation. College dorms filled up before I could snag a spot, and apartments were insanely pricey.

Where was I supposed to get the cash? Dad? Puh-lease. I had no friends—thanks to my locked-away childhood that made Rapunzel look free-spirited, and sharing with a stranger sounded like a nightmare.

Aaron lived near campus, so I swallowed my pride and asked him for help. He grumbled, but he said yes. Turns out, under that mean streak, he’s not entirely heartless.

Living with him, though? Torture. Sleeping just feet away from temptation every night pushed me over the edge. I deflowered myself with toys just to cope, imagining it was him.

How do you sleep next to fire and not get scorched?

“Are you even listening to me? What’s got you spacing out?” He snapped his fingers in front of my face, jolting me back.

“Huh?” I blinked, my gaze locking onto his eyes.

They were warm as bourbon, sucking me under like quicksand. I could drown happily there.

He huffed, and raked a hand through his tousled hair, leaving it even messier. Sexy bedhead on steroids. I thought.

“I said, I need you to come somewhere with me this weekend.”

“A date?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my heart leaping stupidly.

His face crumpled—surprise? Irritation?—and he barked a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

“In your dreams, maybe.”

The words landed like a gut punch, but I played it off, rolling my eyes with a snort.

“Ouch. Way to crush a girl’s ego at midnight.” Inside, though? It hollowed me out, but I’d take scraps over nothing.

“My grandpa’s throwing this big family dinner. Everyone’s gonna be there.” He leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, looking effortlessly sexy in just his shorts.

I arched a brow, folding my arms to match him.

“And I’m invited because…?”

“I want you there.” His tone was firm, almost commanding, but that didn’t make it any less vague.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not exactly a reason, Ronnie.”

He scowled, his jaw tightening. “Do you really love getting on my nerves? I’ve told you a million times to stop calling me that.”

I snickered, shrugging. “You get on mine all the time. Fair’s fair.”

He glared, those heated eyes boring into me, and I felt my cheeks flush. I cleared my throat to break the tension.

“For real, though, why me? Why drag your roommate to a family thing?” My voice came out softer than I intended, almost vulnerable.

“Fiona and Eric will be there.” His voice flatlined, face a blank slate, but I caught the glimpse of an old wound reopening.

Ah. His ex and his cousin. Fiona cheated on him with Eric, shattering Aaron in ways he never admitted.

I never got what he saw in her—beyond her mean-girl vibe, she wasn’t even that pretty.

Maybe it was her big, unhinged boobs. Or maybe he just liked the thrill of the chase. Or… right, her family’s money. But no, Aaron wasn’t that shallow. At least, I wanted to believe he wasn’t.

His family, the Tyrones were loaded, hockey royalty in the US, though Aaron bucked tradition by choosing basketball over the family sport.

That choice pissed off his stoic grandpa, creating this massive rift, but Aaron didn’t budge. He chased his dreams with that fierce determination I secretly admired.

“So, you up for it?” he asked, one perfect brow arched in challenge.

I swallowed, piecing it together. The fake girlfriend act.

“You want to use me as a rebound?” The words slipped out, laced with hurt I couldn’t hide.

He tilted his head, scanning me slow, like he was weighing my soul.

“Yeah. Just for the weekend.”

It felt like a knife twist in my chest, but I nodded anyway, forcing a smile. God, I wanted to grab his shirt, beg, Make it real—just once. But desperate girls get doors slammed, so I bit it back.

“Okay,” I whispered.

A smirk tugged his lips, and he reached out, ruffling my hair like I was his pesky little sister.

“Perfect. We’ll hit the stores tomorrow, I can’t have my ‘girl’ rolling up in those tragic hoodies and sweats. Time for an upgrade.”

He turned and vanished into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, hot and silent.

Why did loving him have to hurt so damn much?

Fake Girlfriend, Real Feelings.

Jessica's POV

“Take a break, we’ll reassemble in thirty,” Aaron’s smooth, commanding voice echoed across the court, cutting through the squeak of sneakers and the thud of basketballs.

The college players scattered like leaves in a gust, grabbing towels and water, their chatter filling the gym.

Aaron stayed rooted in the center, chugging from the bottle I’d slipped into his gym bag that morning. He is such a stubborn ass. 

Earlier this morning, he’d grumbled about not needing it when I offered, but there he was, guzzling it down like it was liquid gold.

Lucky for him, my love made me a fool who’d bend over backward, even if he didn’t deserve it half the time.

I watched from the library’s massive window, perched on a stool with a forgotten textbook in my lap. The view overlooked the court perfectly, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from how he owned the space—barking orders, demonstrating shots with effortless sexiness.

Students hung on his every word, launching balls toward the hoop like disciples following a prophet.

Aaron coached part-time at Arcadia Hills College, a gig that always puzzled me until I pieced it together: he wanted to nurture the next generation, help them chase dreams like he was chasing his.

Soon, he’d ditch Florida for LA, signing with some top-tier team, and damn if I wasn’t rooting for him harder than anyone. I’d be glued to every game, cheering from afar.

Weird, right? Anyone sane would call me deranged because I was wishing the moon for the guy who’d tormented me since we were kids, chipping away at my confidence like it was his hobby.

But love doesn’t play by rules, especially not mine. Maybe I lost a screw when Mom died; her spirit taking a chunk of my sanity with her. 

Loving Aaron was my beautiful madness.

“How does it feel sharing an apartment with him?”

The question yanked me from my reverie, and I yelped, flailing like a cartoon character.

My stool wobbled, and my forehead bumped the glass with a comedic thump. I clutched the thick curtains for balance, only for them to billow uselessly as I nearly face-planted.

“Oops! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” I rubbed the budding ache on my head and spun to face Debbie, the campus’s favorite punching bag for laughs.

If I was awkward in high school (and okay, maybe still a tad now), Debbie was the queen of geeks: frizzy dirty blonde hair escaping a messy ponytail, braces flashing with every word, coke-bottle glasses magnifying her wide eyes, acne-scarred skin, and that lanky height that made her tower over everyone like a giraffe in sneakers.

But strip away the world’s cruel beauty checklist, she was stunning in her own way: kind eyes, a warm vibe that peeked through if you bothered to look.

Society’s beauty standards were just a rigged game anyway. Superficial and impossible.

I managed a small smile, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “Hey, Debbie.”

She shyly mirrored it, her fingers twisting together, weight shifting from foot to foot like she was debating running away.

“How’d you know I live with him?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

She let out a nervous giggle, relaxing a fraction, probably sensing I wasn’t the judging type.

“It’s not exactly a secret…” She trailed off, squinting as she fished for my name.

“Jessica,” I supplied softly.

“Sorry.” She scratched the back of her neck, cheeks flushing. “So, are you guys, like… do you two, you know…” Her words fizzled out, but the implication hung there, awkward and prying.

I raised a brow, not thrilled. “Don’t you think that’s a weird thing to ask a stranger?”

Deep down, though, a twisted part of me wished it were true—that we were more than roommates, more than this endless push-pull.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” The air thickened with her discomfort, and I didn’t want to marinate in it.

Who knows what she’d blurt next? Maybe ask if we took a shit together or something equally mortifying.

“Thanks for saying hi, Debbie. See you around.”

I flashed another quick smile, grabbed my bag from the nearby chair, and slipped past her, escaping the library stuffy air.

Outside, I yanked my hood up, shielding my face, and kept my head down as I hustled across campus.

I was lost in a swirl of thoughts, eager to hole up in the apartment and lose myself in a book’s pages, forgetting the world for a bit.

Then, out of nowhere, a firm grip snagged my arm.

I barely had time to gasp before I was hauled sideways, yanked into a cramped, dimly lit space that smelled of chalk and old mops—a janitor’s closet?

The door slammed shut, and my back hit the wall with a thud, knocking the breath from my lungs.

My heart sprinted, faster than a ticking second hand, pounding in my ears. My eyes squeezed shut in panic.

When I pried them open, Aaron’s honey-brown gaze locked onto mine, pinning me harder than any wall ever could.

He was dangerously close, one ripped arm braced above my head, his body heat radiating through the thin air between us.

His scent—sweat mixed with his cologne, flooded my senses, turning my brain to mush.

“What the hell, Aaron?” I stammered, voice shaky, staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

He didn’t answer right away, just held my gaze, leaning in until our breaths mingled, faces so close I could count his lashes.

My mind raced: Is this it? The The kiss I’d fantasized about a million times? Had he finally woken up, seen me as more than the girl next bed?

But no, of course not. He pulled back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“So, how’d the test go? You were buried in books all week.”

Disappointment sank like a stone in my gut, but I gulped it down, and rolled my eyes to mask the sting.

“Aw, thanks for the concern. But we both know that’s not why you kidnapped me into a closet. And if anyone saw? They’d get the wrong idea. Hotshot basketball coach sneaking off with the hoodie girl? Headline news.”

He chuckled, that deep, rumbling sound that unleashed a swarm of butterflies in my stomach, fluttering wildly.

“Don’t play coy, Jess. You’d eat up those rumors like candy. Hell, you’re probably praying they turn real.”

My pulse skyrocketed, throat tightening as I struggled to swallow. The way he said it, so cocky, like he had me figured out.

“Don’t flatter yourself, that’s not true.” I shot back, the lie tasting bitter because yeah, it was killing me how much I wanted exactly that.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” His whisper brushed my ear, his eyes holding mine with an intensity that screamed certainty.

It hit me then: Does he know about how I feel towards him? All the teasing, the “harmless” bullying—maybe it’s because he senses my feelings, toys with them like a cat with a mouse.

That would be the ultimate humiliation, worse than any childhood taunt.

I shoved against his chest, and spun around to leave, but he caught my wrist, yanking me back until I collided with his solid frame.

His arm banded around my waist, firm and warm, holding me captive.

My hands flattened on his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heart under taut muscle, while mine roared in my ears.

The closet shrank around us, walls closing in, air charged and suffocating.

“You weren’t at the court today. Why?” His voice dropped, eyes searching mine like he was digging for buried treasure.

I hesitated, caught in his gaze. “I had some research to do in the library,” I murmured, so softly that if we weren’t this close, the words would’ve dissolved into nothing.

He leaned in again, closer, my lips parting on instinct, breath hitching. But instead of the kiss, he tugged my hood off, letting my hair tumble free.

“I’ve told you to stop hiding under that thing, Jess. Why so stubborn?”

I blinked, the spell shattering, and pushed him away, harder this time, creating precious space.

“It’s my choice, Aaron. You don’t get a say in how I dress. You’re not my boyfriend.”

He arched a brow, that infuriating smirk curling his lips.

“Oh? Pretty sure I asked you to play the part just the other night. Jealous type might disagree.”

I rolled my eyes. Honestly, knowing Aaron had turned eye-rolling into my default response, more frequent than breathing.

“Fake girlfriend, genius.” I plastered on a sarcastic grin. “And FYI, your proposal sucked. No flowers, no charm…. zero effort. Ugh!”

He smiled, biting his lower lip, a move that drove me crazy.

“FYI? Seriously, Jess? What is this, 2025?” he teased, his tone playful and laced with laughter.

We stared, the tension crackling like static, until hallway chatter and footsteps filtered through the door, bursting the bubble.

“See you later, Aaron,” I whispered, turning to slip out.

“I’ll be crashing at Jason’s tonight,” he called after me. “Don’t bother making dinner for two. Oh, and I left my card, buy whatever you want for the trip tomorrow.”

I whipped my head around, but he was already facing away, tugging his Jersey off.

I stared a beat longer, then left. My heart echoed in my chest with every hurried step, and I wondered—would I ever catch my breath around him?

Wrapped in His Towel

Jessica's POV

“Jess, seriously, what the fuck is taking you so long? Are you trying to wash away your sins under the shower?” Aaron’s growl rumbled through the bathroom door, thick with exasperation, like I’d been in here for hours instead of twenty minutes.

I ignored him, rolling my eyes at the steam-fogged mirror. 

Well, technically, I was scrubbing away every last bit of grime down there, just in case… you know, we got sloppy drunk at this family reunion blowout, or some sneaky cousin spiked our drinks with an aphrodisiac, and boom—things heated up fast.

Ridiculous, right? My brain was a romance novel on steroids these days.

I shook my head at myself, my cheeks burning, but damn if I didn’t secretly root for that wild plot twist to happen

“What has become of me?” I mumbled under my breath, the hot spray pounding my skin like a reprimand for my overactive imagination.

“Jess, if you don’t come out in the next thirty seconds, I swear I’ll storm in and haul you out myself,” he threatened again, his voice edging into that deep, commanding tone that always made my toes curl.

What the hell was his deal? We had a full hour and a half before we needed to leave. Or was there a broadcast of a traffic apocalypse I know nothing off?

I wiped between my pussy with the special towel I kept just for it, then stepped back under the cascade to rinse off the last suds.

Satisfied everything was clean, I turned off the water and padded to the full-length mirror, fogged at the edges but clear enough.

I scrutinized my legs, and ran a hand over the smooth skin to check for stubble, then… yeah, everything else down there. Smooth as silk.

I moved on to inspect my armpits when his countdown kicked in.

“…18, 17, 16, 15…” Panic spiked through me.

I darted around the spacious bathroom, dripping water everywhere, hunting for my towel. It wasn’t on the rack.

Shit—had I forgotten to bring one in? Asking Aaron now would just piss him off more.

I yanked open the cabinet, but I found it empty, the spares usually there weren’t. I’d meant to grab them from the laundry room yesterday.

Damn it. I had one last option, but it was risky as hell.

“…5, 4, 3…” I snatched his large white towel from the hook, the one that smelled intoxicatingly like him—fresh cologne mixed with that unique Aaron musk, and wrapped it snugly around my body. It dwarfed me, soft against my skin.

Chapter 1 It's Time To Wake Up

Zane Vance's childhood crush, the one he'd held in his heart for over a decade, had returned to the country after finishing her studies.

First, he forgot about their appointment to pick out her wedding dress. Then, without a second thought, he gave the Vice President position at his company to that same woman.

Darcy Gale now stood outside Zane's office door, wanting to ask him what was going on.

But she could hear him talking with his friend inside.

His friend asked, "Weren't you going to give the VP role to Darcy? She's your fiancée-to-be."

Zane sounded dismissive. "Is that necessary? I'm the CEO of SummitCore Tech."

A bitter taste rose in Darcy's throat.

After a long pause, his friend spoke again, "After all this time, you still haven't gotten over Zora, have you?"

Zane's voice was rough. "The one you couldn't have in your youth will haunt you for the rest of your life. For me, Zora is that person."

A memory, hidden in a dark corner of Darcy's mind, surfaced.

She suddenly remembered a time, long ago, when Zane had murmured that name in his sleep.

She hadn't thought much of it then, assuming he was just talking nonsense in a dream.

The signs were there all along.

Darcy stood frozen, a sharp, stabbing pain spreading through her chest.

She wanted to turn and leave, but a fierce, morbid curiosity kept her rooted to the spot.

She clamped a hand over her mouth, letting the tears fall in heavy, silent drops.

His friend hesitated before reminding him, "But you and Darcy are getting engaged soon."

"I will marry Darcy. Not for love, but out of duty. Once her mother is out of the hospital after her surgery, we'll hold the engagement ceremony as planned."

Zane's cold, clear voice extinguished the last flicker of hope in Darcy's heart.

So he had never loved her!

Seven years ago, Darcy had fallen for Zane at first sight during a campus social. They started dating soon after.

Five years ago, Darcy was accepted into her dream graduate program. But because Zane wanted to start a company, she tore up her acceptance letter without hesitation to build a future with him, through thick and thin.

Now, SummitCore Tech, the company they built together, was an industry unicorn, valued at over a billion dollars.

A month ago, over a casual meal, Zane had offhandedly asked if she wanted to get engaged.

There was no ring, no flowers, but Darcy had been overjoyed. He had no idea how long she'd been waiting for him to propose.

She agreed without hesitation. Zane had simply nodded, his expression neutral. "Okay. We'll go look at wedding dresses after your business trip."

Today was the day Darcy returned from that trip. She went straight to the bridal shop from the airport.

She waited from 2 PM until 6 PM. Zane never showed.

He wasn't answering her texts or calls. So, Darcy came to his office.

She never expected to hear his "heartfelt truths" instead.

Darcy stood there, listening quietly to his cruel words.

Five years of willing sacrifice had all been a joke!

It was time to wake up.

She wiped her tears, picked up her suitcase quietly, and left.

Just as she reached the street downstairs, her phone rang. It was the bridal shop.

"Ms. Gale, we're still holding the dress for you. When should we expect you and Mr. Vance?"

Darcy looked at the flickering neon lights of the city, a self-mocking smile on her lips.

"Don't bother. We're calling off the engagement."

A gasp came from the other end. Darcy hung up sharply.

She was exhausted, body and soul. She didn't want to go home. Her mother was about to be hospitalized, and she didn't want to worry her.

After a moment's thought, she decided to get a taxi to a nearby hotel for the night. She needed to collect herself.

While she was waiting by the curb, a message finally came through from Zane.

"Sorry, was in back-to-back meetings this afternoon. Couldn't make it to the fitting. You decide on the dress. You're on leave starting tomorrow. Take a rest. Handle the engagement preparations. I'm swamped with work."

Darcy had already requested this month-long leave before her trip. It was for two reasons—to care for her mother during her surgery, and to plan their engagement.

It looked like the second reason was no longer necessary.

But her mother's surgery was scheduled. She couldn't delay that. She would still take the leave.

Darcy turned off her phone screen without replying.

Her taxi finally arrived. She put her luggage in the trunk and slid into the back seat.

Just then, a black Maybach sped past.

The driver was none other than Zane.

And in the passenger seat sat the woman he couldn't forget.

So, this was his "back-to-back meetings."

No time to accompany his fiancée to try on a dress, but plenty of time to take his old flame out to dinner.

The tears threatened to fall again.

At the hotel, after checking in and washing up, Darcy felt her head clearer.

She took out a pen and paper from her suitcase and began writing her resignation letter.

After seven years together, she wanted a clean, quiet break. For both their sakes.

The next morning, she handed the sealed envelope to a courier, instructing him to deliver it to Rex at SummitCore Tech.

Rex was Zane's personal assistant.

Once packed, Darcy wheeled her suitcase out the door. Her phone rang. It was her best friend, Kaia Lark.

"Darcy! So sorry, I just saw your message from yesterday."

Darcy pressed her lips together. They worked at the same company.

Yesterday, she had found out about Zora Moss joining SummitCore through Kaia's Instagram.

It was a photo of the two of them. Kaia and Zora were cheek-to-cheek. Kaia's eyes shone with admiration, while Zora smiled serenely, the picture of grace.

The caption read, "Wow!So lucky to have Dr. Moss join us as VP! Big things ahead for our team!"

Whatever. Kaia doesn't know Zora is Zane's old flame. No point blaming the ignorant.

Darcy wouldn't take it out on her. She forced a light laugh. "It's fine."

On the other end of the line, Kaia paused, a slight frown forming.

She's taking this lying down?

Her fiancé's old flame steals her VP promotion, and it's "fine"?

Tch. No wonder they call her Zane's lapdog. Her tolerance is something else.

Zane had specifically asked her not to tell Darcy about Zora's hiring yet.

Yesterday's post had been for Darcy's eyes only.

She'd been sure Darcy would confront Zane, make a scene. But nothing.

Darcy hadn't even dared to ask.

What a coward.

Kaia couldn't hide her disappointment.

After hanging up, Darcy went downstairs for breakfast, then prepared to get a taxi home.

Just then, a WhatsApp message popped up.

"Ms. Gale, have you considered my proposal from yesterday?"

The sender was Jethro Blackwood, heir to the Blackwood Group.

Before Darcy could reply, another message followed.

"My offer is sincere. I truly want you to join Stratagem Tech as CEO."

CEO? A wholly-owned subsidiary of the Blackwood Group needed to hire an external CEO?

Chapter 1

Violet

My heart pounded with excitement and nerves as I walked across the campus of Starlight Academy with my suitcases in my hands.

This had been my dream for as long as I could remember—to be among the best shifters. The academy was very hard to get into but somehow I had managed to do it.

Today would be the start of a new chapter in my life, and absolutely nothing could ruin it.

"Move it, four eyes!"

Almost nothing.

I released a yelp as someone shove me down to the ground, and I fell down with my suitcases.

My glasses slipped from my face and I panicked.

“No, no!” I whispered, closing my eyes as I desperately looked for them.

They needed to remain on my eyes at all times. I’d had them since I was eight years old, and all I knew was that it would be a cold and lonely night if I didn’t have them on at all times.

The nightmares, the visions…

“Yes!” I breathed, my fingers brushing against the familiar frame. Relieved, I quickly put them back on.

I caught a glimpse of the back of the guy who had pushed me over as he walked with his group of friends. “Asshole!” my wolf, Lumia and I muttered at the same time.

One of the guys, wearing a blue hoodie, looked back with what seemed like a look of sympathy.

Our eyes met, and then he made a turn, sprinting to my direction.

Flustered, I watched as he grabbed my suitcases from the ground before sticking out his hand to help me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, thanks,” I accepted as I got up, now standing face to face with him.

My lips instantly curled at the handsome blonde in front of me, his eyes as brown as honey and his hair slightly lighter than mine.

"I'm sorry for the prince," he said. "He didn’t mean it, he’s a bit cranky today."

I frowned. "The prince?"

The guy eyed me strangely. "The Ly…never mind. First day?”

“Yes.”

“Do you need help with your suitcases?"

"Yes, sure.”

He grabbed my two suitcases and we began to walk, my short legs struggling to keep up as I was almost half his size. "Were you on your way to pick up your keys?"

“Yes.”

“Can you only say, yes?”

“Ye…I mean—no,” I shook my head, a bit embarrassed.

He chuckled. "I’m Nate, member of the student council.”

"Violet," I responded.

Nate glanced at me, and then his eyes studied me. His look was so intense I couldn’t help but blush. "So let me guess,” he spoke. “Seventeen, small and humble pack, Alpha’s daughter, healer’s acquaintance?"

I looked at him, shocked, and let out a surprised laugh. "You were almost right—eighteen."

And then there was this other thing.

The Alpha was my uncle who had raised me, but it wasn’t something I ever felt like discussing.

When I was eight, my parents had passed away in an attack, and my uncle had been taking care of me ever since. He was the Alpha of the Bloodrose pack, a small pack from the east.

"Studying to be the healer’s acquaintance? Your parents must be proud of you," Nate said.

"Yes, and they..." I replied, the words trailing off.

Alpha Fergus had tried to treat me like a daughter, but the man was just too awkward to raise one. He had never been around much, and our Luna, Sonya had tried her best, but we just didn’t have that mother-daughter click. Adding salt to the wound was Dylan, my cousin, who I grew up with. I called him my brother, everyone did. He had hated me all my life, never giving me a reason, and we had never gotten along.

He was a sophomore at Starlight Academy and had made it very clear that we were not family within these walls and to stay away from him.

His exact words had been, ‘Do not embarrass me, freak.’

“They’re proud,” I sighed.

As I followed Nate, I noticed a lot of girls fighting for his attention. Once in a while he would acknowledge one of them, and was met with squeals. With a face like that, it wasn’t hard to guess that he was popular. Above all, he seemed to have a good heart as well.

He caught me staring, and I lowered my gaze to the ground with a giggle.

"Here you are," Nate said.

I looked up and realized we had already arrived at the grand hall. “Come on,” he guided me inside, and it was just as incredible as I remembered from the orientation—a large, open space with high ceilings and luxe appearance.

It was quite busy, the area filled with students and suitcases. “Wow,” I gasped, looking around in awe.

Nate pointed. "That’s the front desk. You can go there for information and get your keys,” then he stuck out his hand. "It was nice to meet you. Welcome, and I hope you’ll have a good year—Violet."

I looked at his hand for a moment before accepting it. "Thank you.”

He winked at me, and I felt a flutter in my chest. I kept holding his hand for a second longer than necessary and when he stared at our intertwined hands with a soft smile, I released a cough and stepped back.

"Thank you," I repeated, not knowing what else to say. “And thank you for coming back to help me.”

“No problem,” Nate spoke. “Just doing my job.”

Right, cause he was a member of the student council.

“Nate—let’s go!” A loud voice called out.

I looked over Nate’s shoulder to see where the voice was coming from. It was a guy leaning against one of the pillars, surrounded by friends, his back turned to us. It was the same guy who had called me four-eyes. I recognized his voice immediately. Nate had referred to him as a prince, and I wondered if it was because he was actual royalty or because of his entitled behavior.

Yet, Nate didn’t hesitate for a second and immediately walked off to his friend.

"Next!" the woman behind the information desk shouted, snapping me back to reality. An unimpressed look was plastered on her face.

“Oh, yes—that would be me!” I said, sounding awkward even to myself as I struggled to push my suitcases to the desk.

“Name, class, and major,” she demanded, her tone flat.

"Violet Hastings, freshman from the healer department?”

Chapter 1 1

Kaelen's POV:

The plastic bags dug into my fingers as I walked down the street. The cold didn't bother me as much as it should have, but I had to pretend it did. I had to pretend I was just like everyone else: normal.

Lucian had asked for those damn cookies that were only sold at the store on the other side of town, and Marlen needed more notebooks for school.

There was always something. The clock in the square read 8:30, later than I had planned, and the streetlights flickered with that yellowish light that made everything look dirtier than it was.

Emberdale was a really small town and emptied out quickly after dark, which I was usually grateful for. Fewer eyes, fewer questions, and less chance of anyone noticing anything strange about us.

But tonight the street was too empty, too quiet except for the sound of my own footsteps on the pavement.

I smelled the alcohol before I saw them.

Three guys, maybe four, staggered out of an alley about twenty yards ahead. One tripped over his own foot and the others laughed with those loud, exaggerated laughs of drunks.

Shit.

I automatically changed direction, crossing to the other side of the street, but the tallest one saw me.

"Hey, you!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the closed buildings. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

I kept walking. Neither fast nor slow. Normal. As if I hadn't heard him.

"I'm talking to you, son of a bitch!"

The footsteps behind me quickened. There were four of them, I confirmed as I listened to the uncoordinated rhythm of their movements. One was dragging his left foot a little. Another was breathing with a wheeze that betrayed chronic smoking.

These were details that a normal human wouldn't pick up on at that distance, but they stuck in my brain without my asking. Because I wasn't a normal human. In fact, I wasn't even human at all.

"Are you deaf or something?" The tallest one caught up with me and stood in front of me, blocking my way. He reeked of whiskey and had a vomit stain on his shirt. "My friend asked you a question."

"I don't want any trouble," I said, keeping my voice calm and neutral. "I'm just going home."

"Ohhh, just going home," another one repeated mockingly. He was younger, maybe my age, with a cut on his eyebrow that was still bleeding a little. "How cute. Did you hear that, guys? Pretty boy just wants to go home."

The others laughed. One pushed my shoulder, not very hard, just testing. The bags swayed in my hand.

"Excuse me," I said, and tried to walk around them. I could do it. I could just walk away and they'd be too drunk to follow me if I walked fast.

But the tall one grabbed my arm and squeezed. Hard.

My first reaction was to pull away, break his grip, maybe break his arm too if necessary. It would have been easy. So damn easy.

But then I saw the other problem: a half-broken security camera on the pole across the street, probably not even working, but what if it was? What if someone was watching? What if I used my real strength and someone asked questions?

We'd been there for three months. Three months since we'd fled the city after I healed that kid and the wrong people saw it.

Three months hiding in that tiny town where no one knew us and no one suspected anything. Lucian was just starting to sleep without nightmares again, and Marlen had stopped asking me every morning if we had to leave again.

I couldn't risk it. Not for some drunk idiots.

"Let go of me," I said, and pulled my arm away without using too much force.

He tightened his grip.

"Or what? What are you going to do, pretty boy?"

The first punch came before I could dodge it. It hit my cheek and the pain exploded sharp and hot. I staggered, the bags fell, and I heard Lucian's cookies shatter inside the package.

"Come on, fight back," said the young man with the broken eyebrow, and he pushed me again, harder. "What's the matter? Are you scared?"

Yes. But not of them.

Another blow, this time to my ribs. I doubled over, the air rushing out of my lungs. I could feel the heat rising in my throat, that burning sensation that always preceded the transformation when I got too stressed.

No. Not there. Not now.

"Stop," I said, and I hated how my voice sounded, almost like a plea. "That's enough."

"Enough?" the tall one repeated, kicking me in the leg. "We're just getting started, buddy."

The kicks came from all sides then. Back, ribs, stomach. I curled up, tried to protect my head with my arms.

Each impact was a reminder of how weak I had to look, how human I had to act. I could feel my bones absorbing the damage, my body wanting to heal itself automatically, but I held it back. I let it hurt. I let the bruises form.

I thought about Lucian and Marlen waiting for me at home. About how Marlen had probably already set the table and Lucian had made that awful pasta he'd been making lately because he saw a recipe on Tik Tok.

I thought about how scared they would be if I didn't show up, or worse, if I showed up and told them we had to leave again.

I couldn't do that to them.

A foot connected with my face and I felt my lip split, warm blood running down my chin. My ears were ringing. One of them was saying something about my wallet, but the words were muffled, distorted.

Then I saw the lights.

High, bright, too close. The screech of tires against asphalt broke the air, and suddenly the guys weren't kicking me anymore, but shouting, jumping back.

A black car stopped inches from where one of them had been standing a second ago.

"What the hell?!" someone shouted.

I lay on the ground, breathing heavily, trying to focus my eyes. A door opened. Quick footsteps on the pavement.

"Leave now or I'll call the police!" It was a woman's voice, firm, without tremor. "I have my phone in my hand, you motherfuckers!"

"We were just having fun," muttered the tall one, but he was already backing away.

"Well, have fun somewhere else. Get out of here!"

I heard them walk away, their clumsy footsteps disappearing down the street amid muttered insults.

I tried to get up and the world spun a little. Damn. I'd hit my head harder than I thought.

"Are you okay?"

The woman approached, her shoes entering my field of vision. White sneakers, worn out. I slowly raised my head and...

It was as if the air changed.

I don't know how else to explain it. She knelt beside me, and when her fingers brushed my shoulder to help me sit up, something stirred beneath my skin.

Something warm and strange and completely unexpected, which even prevented me from hearing what she said to me.

For a second, just a second, I felt my eyes burn, that golden heat that I could normally control without any problem.

I blinked hard and pushed it down. When I looked back at her, her dark eyes were fixed on me with genuine concern. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her face was free of makeup. She was perhaps my age or a little younger.

"Can you stand up?" she asked.

I nodded, though I wasn't sure. I let her help me up, her small hand surprisingly firm against my arm.

When I was standing, she quickly let go and took a step back, as if she had just realized she had touched a bloody stranger in the middle of the street.

"You should go to the hospital," she said. "Those guys beat you up pretty bad."

"I'm fine," I lied, wiping my mouth with my hand. It came away stained red. "I just... need to get home."

"You don't look okay."

"I've been worse." And I wasn't lying about that, honestly.

She looked at me with that expression people get when they know you're saying something stupid but don't know you well enough to say it to your face.

"At least let me give you a ride. You shouldn't be walking like that."

"No, thanks. Seriously. You've done enough."

We stood there for an awkward moment. She seemed to want to argue, but finally sighed and nodded.

"Whatever you say," she said, and went back to her car. Before getting in, she turned around. "Be more careful, okay? Not all drunk people run away when a car appears."

"I will," I said.

I watched her drive away, the taillights of her car disappearing around the corner. I picked up the torn bags from the ground, the destroyed cookies, and the miraculously intact notebooks.

My whole body ached, but I could already feel it beginning to heal, the familiar warmth spreading through my ribs, closing the cut on my lip.

But I couldn't stop thinking about that moment when she had touched me.

About how my eyes had reacted without me wanting them to.

And about how, for the first time in years, a human had made me feel something other than caution.

“Sinasabi ko sa 'yo, Jeston, ngayon ang araw na dapat magpakasal kayo ni Nevaeh. Hindi ka pupunta? Aren’t you afraid na magalit siya?”

“Ano ka ba. Alam naman ng lahat na si Nevaeh parang sobrang dikit na plaster na mahirap alisin. Kahit malaman niyang hindi pumunta si Jeston dahil kay Neela, hindi siya maglalakas-loob na magalit.”

“Tama! Paano naman magiging mas mahalaga si Nevaeh kaysa kay Neela? Bata pa lang sila, lagi nang inaalagaan ni Jeston si Neela.”

Narinig ni Nevaeh ang usapan habang nakatayo sa labas ng private room ng hotel.

Parang biglang nanlamig ang buong katawan niya. Pakiramdam niya ay tumigil ang pagdaloy ng dugo sa kanyang mga ugat.

Ito pala ang lalaking minahal niya nang napakaraming taon. At ganito pala kababa ang tingin sa kanya.

Mahigpit niyang kinuyom ang kanyang mga kamao hanggang sa bumaon ang mga kuko sa palad niya.

Pero kahit masakit iyon, wala pa iyon sa kalingkingan ng sakit na nararamdaman niya sa puso.

Huminga siya nang malalim at dahan-dahang itinulak ang pinto. Bumukas ang pinto nang malakas. Biglang natahimik ang maingay na silid.

“Nevaeh…” sabay-sabay na napabulalas ang mga tao sa loob.

Sa may pintuan ay nakatayo ang isang napakagandang babae. Maputi ang balat, mahahaba ang mga binti, at ang suot niyang pink dress ay perpektong bumabagay sa kanyang hubog na katawan. Ang half-tie niyang buhok na parang Korean style ay lalo pang nagbigay sa kanya ng soft at elegant aura.

Napakaganda niya na halos hindi maalis ang tingin ng mga tao. Pero malamig ang mga mata niya ngayon.

Dahan-dahan niyang inikot ang tingin mula kay Jeston papunta kay Neela bago siya ngumiti nang mapait.

“Jeston, ito ba ang dahilan kung bakit wala kang time para pumirma ng marriage certificate natin?”

Saglit na nagpakita ang pagkapahiya sa mukha ng gwapong si Jeston. Tumayo siya at lumapit kay Nevaeh.

“Anytime naman pwede tayong pumirma ng certificate. Sandali lang naman sa judge iyon,” sabi niya. “Bihira lang makauwi si Neela galing abroad. Being her Kuya Jeston, normal lang na i-welcome ko siya.”

Napangiti si Nevaeh nang mapang-uyam.

“Isang beses lang din sa isang taon ang anniversary ng relasyon natin. Wala lang sa 'yo iyon? Alam mo naman na kapag hindi tayo sumipot sa usapan ngayon, next year na ulit ang susunod na pagkakataon.”

Matagal na nilang napagkasunduan iyon.

Gagawin nilang wedding anniversary ang araw ng kanilang relationship anniversary. Isang araw lang pero doble ang kahulugan para sana mas maging espesyal.

Pero malinaw na ngayon kay Nevaeh na ayaw talagang pakasalan siya ni Jeston. Ang taong gusto talaga nitong pakasalan ay si Neela. Ang childhood sweetheart nito na adopted sister din nito.

Siguro ay napansin ni Jeston ang pagbabago sa ekspresyon niya kaya muli nitong hinawakan ang kamay niya.

“Stop making a scene. Uuwi tayo mamaya, I’ll explain everything.”

Ngunit agad na binawi ni Nevaeh ang kamay niya at marahas na itinulak ito palayo.

Sa sandaling iyon ay nagsalita si Neela.

“Ate Nevaeh, sorry… kasalanan ko.” Mahina ang boses nito habang nakayuko. “Hindi ko alam na ngayon pala kayo magpapakasal.”

Mukha itong kawawa, para bang ito pa ang biktima.

Matagal nang naiirita si Nevaeh sa babaeng ito kaya hindi siya sumagot.

Unti-unting nagtaas ng ulo si Neela. Namumuo ang luha sa kanyang mga mata at mukhang kawawa at inosente.

“Ate Nevaeh, please forgive me. I sincerely wish you and Kuya Jeston happiness.”

Pagkatapos ay ngumiti pa ito nang pilit. “Really, I wish you both the best.”

Napatawa si Nevaeh nang malamig. “Talaga ba? Kung talagang gusto mong maging maayos kami, hindi ka na babalik dito.”

Biglang nagbago ang ekspresyon ni Jeston. “Enough, Nevaeh! Huwag kang magsalita nang ganyan.”

“Bakit?” malamig na sagot ni Nevaeh. “Nasaktan ko ba ang pinakamamahal mong little sweetheart?”

Ang tingin niya kay Jeston ngayon ay parang sa isang estranghero.

Lalong dumilim ang mukha ni Jeston.

“Nevaeh, watch your words! Hindi ito ang lugar para sa mga kalokohan mo!”

Tingnan mo nga naman. Kung makapagtanggol si Jeston sa kanyang “mabait na kapatid”. Kung ganoon ito ka-protective, eh di ibibigay na lang ni Nevaeh ang gusto niya.

“Ginawa niyo na nga, bakit takot pa kayong pag-usapan?” malamig niyang sagot.

Namula ang mga mata ni Neela at parang malapit nang umiyak. “Ate Nevaeh… hindi ganoon ang relasyon namin ni Kuya Jeston. Please stop thinking like that. Pwede bang huwag mo na akong pag-isipan ng masama tulad ng dati?”

Huminga ito nang malalim bago muling magsalita. “Kung alam ko lang na ang pagbalik ko ay magiging dahilan para mag-away kayo, hindi na lang sana ako umuwi.”

May halong iyak ang boses ni Neela at tila anumang oras ay tutulo ang kanyang mga luha.

Agad na naawa ang mga tao sa paligid. Hindi nila kayang makita si Neela na nasasaktan, kaya isa-isa nilang sinisi si Nevaeh.

“Nevaeh, mali na ang sinasabi mo. Magkapatid si Jeston at Neela. Pati ba naman iyon ay pagseselosan mo?”

“Tama! Tatlong taon na. Dahil hindi mo matanggap si Neela, napilitan siyang pumunta sa ibang bansa para bigyan kayo ng space. Ngayon uulitin mo na naman?”

“Mag-ingat ka. Baka kapag sumobra ka, iwan ka na talaga ni Jeston!”

Isa-isa silang nagsalita, parang si Nevaeh pa ang kontrabida sa sitwasyon.

Tahimik na pinanood ni Nevaeh ang mga taong nasa harap niya na galit na galit na tila ipinagtatanggol ang tama. Ngunit malamig lang ang kanyang mga mata, at kalmado ang kanyang mukha.

Noon, dahil kay Jeston, palagi niyang pinipilit na magpasensya sa mga tinatawag nitong kaibigan.

Kahit pa ginagawan siya ng biro, o kahit pa naririnig niyang pinapahiya siya ng mga ito sa likod niya habang kinakausap si Jeston, pinipili niyang manahimik. Kunwari ay wala siyang naririnig.

Pero sa pagkakataong ito, hindi na. Wala na siyang balak magtiis.

Tumingin si Nevaeh sa kanila nang matalim, parang kutsilyo ang tingin niya.

“Isang kapatid na babae na araw-araw nakadikit sa sarili niyang kuya, tapos kayo pa ang may lakas ng loob magsabing tama iyon?”

Napakunot ang noo ng ilan sa kanila.

“Nahanginan ba ang mga utak niyo, o talagang mahilig lang kayo manood ng ganitong klase ng… bawal na relasyon?” malamig niyang sabi. “Kung gusto niyo ng show, I don’t mind stepping aside. Hayaan niyo silang mag-perform para sa inyo.”

Natigilan ang lahat.

Hindi nila inaasahan na ang dating mahinahon at sunud-sunuran na Nevaeh sa harap ni Jeston ay biglang magiging ganito kasakit magsalita.

Masakit sa tenga ang bawat salita.

“Nevaeh, bakit mo ako iniinsulto nang ganyan?”

Halos maiyak na si Neela. Namumula ang gilid ng kanyang mga mata at mukha siyang kawawa.

“Kung ayaw mo sa akin, okay lang… pero mahal na mahal ka ni Kuya Jeston. Ang dami na niyang ginawa para sa 'yo. Bakit hindi ka pa rin makuntento?”

Napakunot ang noo ni Nevaeh.

Maaaring hindi alam ng ibang tao, pero kilalang-kilala niya kung gaano kagaling magpanggap si Neela.

Sampung taon na silang magkakilala.

Limang taon silang naging magkasintahan ni Jeston.

Sa unang taon ng relasyon nila, birthday ni Nevaeh noon. Biglang tumawag si Neela kay Jeston at sinabi na naaksidente ito sa sasakyan.

Agad na iniwan ni Jeston si Nevaeh.

Sa pangalawang pagkakataon, Valentine's Day. Tumawag si Neela habang umiiyak, sinasabing nakipaghiwalay daw ang boyfriend nito at gusto na raw nitong magpakamatay.

Muli, iniwan ni Jeston si Nevaeh.

Pangatlong beses…

Pang-apat na beses…

Laging may dahilan si Neela para tawagin si Jeston. At sa bawat pagkakataon, si Nevaeh ang iniiwan.

Hanggang tatlong taon na ang nakalipas, bigla na lang sinabi ni Neela na mag-aaral ito sa ibang bansa.

At mula noon, si Nevaeh ang sinisisi ni Jeston at ng mga kaibigan nito sa pag-alis ni Neela.

Sila ang naniniwala na si Nevaeh ang dahilan kung bakit napilitan si Neela na umalis ng bansa.

Malamig ang tingin ni Nevaeh habang nakatitig kay Neela. Hindi siya kumukurap.

“Sa tingin mo ba normal na relasyon ng magkapatid ang iwan ang napakahalagang araw ng kasal para lang magkasama kayo?”

Bahagyang tumaas ang kanyang baba para magpakita ng confidence.

“Halata naman. Isa sa inyo walang hiya, at isa naman sobra ang landi. Tapos ngayon ako pa ang sinisisi niyo at gusto niyo pang maging mabait ako sa inyo? I'm not that pathetic.”

Huminga siya nang mabigat. “Why? Because you're shameless?”

Namula sa hiya ang mukha ni Neela.

Hindi siya makasagot, kaya umiyak na lang siya. Sunod-sunod ang pagtulo ng luha niya, parang mga perlas na naputol ang sinulid.

Hindi na nakatiis si Jeston. Namumula ang mukha niya habang galit na sumigaw.

“Nevaeh, tama na! Aren't you being ridiculous?”

“It's just a marriage contract!” dagdag pa nito. “Kung hindi man ngayon sa anniversary, pwede namang sa birthday mo na lang. What’s the big deal? Bakit hindi ka na lang maging generous?”

Generous? Kung iyon ang gusto ni Jeston, kaya naman ni Nevaeh. Parang naging tahimik ang kanyang puso.

“Jeston,” mahinahon niyang sabi, “...maghiwalay na tayo.”

Napatigil ang lahat. Nagulat ang mga tao sa paligid.

Si Jeston ay natigilan din ng ilang segundo bago sumimangot.

“Break up na naman?” malamig niyang sabi. “Tatlong taon na ang nakalipas, sinabi mo rin iyan. Natakot si Neela na maghiwalay tayo kaya siya nagpunta sa ibang bansa. Hanggang ngayon hindi ka pa rin titigil? Gusto mo na naman ba siyang palayasin?”

Tumalim ang tingin niya kay Nevaeh.

“Nevaeh, ang tuso mo pala talaga! Pumayag na akong magpakasal sa 'yo pero hindi mo pa rin matanggap si Neela?”

“Gusto mo ba siyang tuluyang mamatay sa sama ng loob? Kung magpapatuloy ka sa ganitong ugali, hindi na ako magpapakasal pa sa 'yo!”

Habang pinapakinggan iyon, bahagyang yumuko si Neela.

Sa sandaling iyon, may dumaan na kislap ng tuwa sa mga mata nito. Halatang nasisiyahan ito sa pagtatanggol ni Jeston.

Nang marinig ni Nevaeh ang mga sinabi ni Jeston, bigla siyang natawa.

Napakaganda ng ngiti niya, parang isang rosas na biglang namulaklak.

“Sige,” sabi niya. “Huwag na tayong magpakasal sa judge. Hindi na rin natin kailangan ng wedding ceremony.”

Pagkatapos sabihin iyon, tumalikod siya at naglakad palabas.

Galit na galit si Jeston habang nakatingin sa kanyang likod.

“Nevaeh!” sigaw niya. “Kung lalabas ka sa pintong iyan ngayon at hindi ka magso-sorry kay Neela, I swear, hindi kita patatawarin!”

Nagtinginan ang mga tao sa paligid.

Sigurado sila na babalik si Nevaeh para magpakumbaba at humingi ng tawad dahil mahal na mahal niya si Jeston.

At gaya ng inaasahan nila, biglang tumigil sa paglalakad si Nevaeh.

Lumingon siya at tinignan silang lahat. Pagkatapos ay itinaas niya ang isang kamay na parang nanunumpa.

“Sige, since nandito na kayong lahat, makinig kayo,” malamig niyang sabi. “Ako, si Nevaeh Solene Dizon, ay nanunumpa na mula ngayon ay hiwalay na kami ni Jeston. Hindi na kami kailanman magpapakasal.”

“...If one of us breaks this promise, may that person be childless and die a horrible death!”

Matapos sabihin ang matitinding salitang iyon, hindi na niya pinansin ang mga taong nakatulala sa gulat.

Dire-diretso siyang lumabas ng private room.

Hindi na niya maalala kung paano siya nakasakay ng ride-hailing car.

Sa buong biyahe, isa-isa niyang binlock ang lahat ng contact ni Jeston.

Ang number nito. Sa Chat. Lahat ng paraan ng communications.

Hanggang sa biglang tumunog ang kanyang cellphone. Naputol ang kanyang pag-iisip.

Tiningnan niya ang screen. Isang numero.

Pamilyar iyon. Pero parang matagal na rin niyang hindi nakita.

Sa sandaling iyon, parang tumigil ang tibok ng kanyang puso.

Dahan-dahan niyang sinagot ang tawag.

Pagka-connect ng linya, isang mababa at kaakit-akit na boses ng lalaki ang narinig mula sa kabilang linya.

“Gusto mo bang magpakasal?” sabi ng lalaki.

Bahagyang natahimik ito bago muling nagsalita.

“If you want to get married… why not consider me?”

Chapter 1 The Third Time

Lilith POV

This is the THIRD time I have stood in front of my pack with Casper by my side.

I wish I could say that I am excited, but I am not.

This is the third time I have hoped that he will finally choose me. This is the third time I wait patiently for him to complete the bond that was given to us by the Moon Goddess.

As I look out over the crowd that has gathered, I try to muster up feelings of excitement, but I can't find them. All I feel is dread. I fear that he is going to walk out on me once again.

Pulling my gaze away from the crowd, I turn to my father. Alpha Victor. He looks bored, like he can't wait for this to be over. He should be happy for me, but he hates me, just like everyone else in this pack. They all blame me for something that was out of my control. They all believe I killed my mother. a

My father clears his throat, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look across the ceremonial circle at Casper, and he looks as white as his name would suggest.

"Lilith, Casper," my father practically yawns. "If you will please join hands in the center of the circle."

I reach for Casper, but he doesn't touch my hands. Instead, his eyes flicker over the crowd like he is waiting for something else to happen. Then, it does.

Zachary, one of the pack warriors, bursts into the clearing. He is panting heavily, and his eyes are filled with tears. All eyes are now on him and the commotion that he has caused.

"Stop!" He shouts. "Serene has been attacked."

Casper gasps, his hand covering his mouth, as soon as he hears Serene's name. Worry is etched across his face, and something I cannot place. Something that makes my stomach lurch with unease.

"I have to go," he whispers, turning away from me.

I reach for him, wrapping my hand around his wrist. Casper glances at it before looking back at Zachary. He tries to tug himself free, but I refuse to let him go.

I step closer to him, lowering my voice. "If you walk away from this ceremony, I won't let you humiliate me again."

He wrinkles his brows and takes a small step back. "What are you trying to say?"

I square my shoulders, trying to look tougher than I feel in the moment. "That if you walk away for Serene, again, this is where our bond ends."

Casper brushes a stray hair from my face, and the tingles that spread across my skin from the mate bond don't make me feel better like they once did. Now, they feel like they are mocking me.

"You are being dramatic, Lily."

My practiced composure fractures for a moment, and I stomp my foot like a child. "I mean it, Casper."

An easy smile spreads across his lips. "I will be right back. Wait for me here, and we can finish… this."

This. The word stings like a blade against my skin. Is this all that remains of our bond? Something inside me breaks into a thousand pieces, and I know it can't be put back together.

He tugs his hand away from me and disappears through the crowd with Zachary and my father following behind me.

Despite myself, I wait. One by one, pack members leave the clearing, already knowing what I have refused to acknowledge. Casper isn't coming back. Once again, he has put my cousin before me.

Some of the pack members mutter pity in my direction, but most of them sneer with satisfaction. One particular wolf announces that this is what I get for what happened to my mother all those years ago. I drop my eyes to the ground, hoping that none of them will see the tears gathering there.

And then, I am all alone.

I drop the ceremonial robe onto the altar and turn toward the pack house. The path runs through an isolated patch of forest that I shouldn't be allowed to walk alone. Without my wolf, I don't have the ability to protect myself, but no one seems to care, not when Serene is supposedly hurt.

No sooner do I step onto the path than I sense them behind me. Rogues. I swallow hard, refusing to glance over my shoulder to see how many there are. I walk faster, but that only makes them excited. They are enjoying the chase.

'Casper,' I reach through the pack mind link. 'I need your help. There are…"

'Enough, Lily,' he cuts me off. 'I told you I would return when Serene is calm. Why must you make everything about you?'

He cuts off the link between us and blocks me from reaching out to him again.

"Casper," I croak his name aloud.

In that singular moment, my heart seems to shrivel up to nothing, leaving a gaping hole in my chest where it used to be.

I slip off the path and lean against the cold bark of a tree. I breathe in deeply. "You can do this."

"Come out, come out. Wherever you are?" One of the rogues taunts.

Their laughter fills the air around me. "Yeah, little wolf. We only want to play a little."

This makes them laugh harder.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I know they are getting close. I close my eyes, trying to calm my heart rate, but I am failing. When I reopen them, I am surrounded by dark figures.

'If you ever wanted to wake up again,' I call out to my wolf. 'Now would be the perfect time.'

But I am met with nothing but silence.

"Okay," I say, cracking my neck from side to side. "I guess I will have to do this alone."

Instinctively, I slip into the fighting stance that I have been using for years. The one that I use in the training I am not supposed to be having. The stance I learned in secret.

I step into the moonlight and beckon one forward with my finger. "Who's first?"

Sex With The Alpha’s Son

🔥Every dirty fantasy about Bate Anton I wrote in my diary came true... except the man made me mo@n wasn't him. It was his best friend, Alpha Conan.

1: Dear Diary

ASIA'S POV

Dear Diary,

Today is my eighteenth Moonday. Tonight my wolf will finally be able to sense our mate.

Oh Moon Goddess, please let it be Anton. He is the most amazing guy I have ever met. His brown eyes are to die for, and those lips are like the reddest cherry on top of an ice cream sundae. This is all I want most in this world, for Anton to be my mate and kiss me under the full moon. That would make me the happiest she-wolf alive.

I closed my diary with a dramatic sigh just as I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I was panicking, so I quickly stuffed the little pink book into my old backpack and tiptoed to the door. I peeked through the crack, exhaling when I realized it was only Beatrice, the head maid.

"That was close," I muttered, grabbing the feather duster and pretending I had been working the whole time. I started cleaning Anton's room, resisting the very real, very insane urge to open his drawer and sniff his underwear.

I had done that a few times before. Okay... I did it many times before. And I must admit, I didn't think I had nothing to be ashamed of.

Once, I nearly got caught by my supervisor, but luckily, she was too busy trying to get everything perfect to notice me clutching a pair of size-medium Fruit of the Looms like it was money. The memory made me grin so hard I was practically blushing. I was so lost in a haze of cotton and cologne that I didn't hear the door open.

"Asia!" Beatrice snapped.

I jolted upright, dropping the duster. Beatrice was scowling like she always did when she was upset with me. And just so you know I had never seen that woman smile. Like ever.

"Yes, ma'am?" I squeaked.

"Stop your damn daydreaming and finish your chores!" she barked. "What the hell are you smiling about, anyway?"

"Nothing, ma'am," I said, plastering on the fakest serious face I could manage.

"Right. Because being a damn servant ain't nothing to smile about. We might be omegas, but we keep the wheels turning around here. Stay on track and don't lose focus."

"I won't, ma'am. I promise to finish my chores on time today."

"Don't make me regret giving you this promotion."

"Of course, ma'am. I won't disappoint you."

I sure hoped not. Last month, two other girls and I were promoted to clean for the Beta family, which meant one glorious, beautiful thing... I now had access to Anton Sharptooth's bedroom.

I'd been in love with him since the moment I laid eyes on him. I was eight years old when his father, Beta Kendrick found me wandering in the woods. They said I was probably from a nearby pack that had been attacked by the Rogue Faction—a bunch of wild wolves who didn't live by pack rules. The Beta brought me to Alpha Clayton and told him there were no survivors, just me.

Since I smelled like an omega, the Alpha told the Beta to make arrangements for me to live in the orphanage so I could be trained to be a servant.

That night, I slept in the Beta's house. Anton, who was fifteen then came into the kitchen where I sat, starving and scared. He gave me an apple and told me I should eat it because I looked hungry. That one tiny act of kindness was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

The next morning, I had a meeting with the Alpha. He questioned me about what I saw during the attack, but honestly? Everything before I came to the Grecian Wolf Pack was a total blur. I told him I remembered nothing, which wasn't a lie.

I was thrown in Miss Beatrice's protection after that, where I started at the bottom like everyone else, but now, at eighteen, I was almost at the top of the servant chain, cleaning for elite werewolf families.

And this was about as good as it got for girls like me.

I sighed, grateful for this opportunity to be cleaning Anton's bathroom. The boy was gorgeous, but not exactly tidy.

'It smells like death in here,' my wolf, Lyria, gagged.

'I know,' I giggled.

I grabbed a bucket of soap-water and bleach and got to work on the tub first, then the toilet. And let me just say—Anton needed to learn how to aim. It took me half an hour to get the piss stains out of that bowl. My eyes were watering, my arms ached, but I had to make this place spick and span. I was down on my hands and knees, drying the last of the tile floor when I heard a loud sound.

BAM.

The bedroom door flung open.

I froze, and my ears perked. I could hear female giggles followed by male grunts.

My heart dropped into my butt. I knew those grunts. They belonged to Anton.

"Heather, I should be at training right now," he whispered.

Of course, it had to be Heather. She was the Alpha's son Conan's girlfriend. Or... was. Conan was sent away for Alpha training a few days after I arrived. It was the way of the pack for the next in line to be sent away for training as soon as they turned eighteen, so that they could be prepared for taking over the pack someday. And Conan Godfrey was the next in line to take over the Grecian Wolf Pack.

Growing up, I always heard that Heather would be his Luna one day, but she wasn't waiting patiently for Conan's return.

She had been collecting his friends and other high-ranked wolves like Pokémon.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, so I peeked through the crack and saw Anton lying on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging off the side. He was using his elbows to prop himself up. I bit my lip. He was looking sinfully good.

I felt heartbroken that he was with another girl, but I had always known that he would never go for someone like me. An orphan omega who looked like a string bean with red, frizzy hair and no boobs.

But a girl could still fantasize right? 

"I've been wanting to taste you since breakfast," Heather purred. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my past lives.

I needed to get out of here and fast.

But then she started unbuckling his pants, licking her lips like she was about to devour a triple cheeseburger. She sank to her knees in front of him.

"You're such a dirty slut," Anton grunted.

"I know, but you love it," she giggled, pulling out his member.

Oh. My. Dear Moon Goddess. What a beautiful piece of equipment.

I gulped. My eyes went wide as Heather took him into her mouth like it was nothing. Nothing!

I started flexing my own jaw, wondering if I could even fit that down my throat if I were in her place.

My eyes traveled to Anton's face, and the way his sculpted jaws were flexing and how hard his red lips were trembling woke something sexual inside of me. There was this heat pooling between my legs and my tummy did a little flutter. That's when I noticed both of them pausing and sniffing the air.

Oh no. I bet they sensed my arousal.

Anton shoved Heather off like a sack of potatoes and stood up, zipping up his pants.

"I know you're in there. Come out and show yourself," he barked.

Oh. Shit.

2: Deal

"Who’s in there?" Anton barked again.

I stood up and straightened my skirt. My fingers were trembling. Scratch that.. my everything was trembling. My hand hovered over the doorknob, clammy as hell. I braced myself, then opened the door. My knees wobbled when my eyes landed on Anton.

His eyes narrowed. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked, raising one arm above his head. He had his claws out, ready to slice my throat open if I so much as breathed wrong.

What did he mean, who was I?

I was the girl who catered to him twice now after he came home drunk.

The girl he told last full moon that she had beautiful eyes.

And the girl he sat and poured his heart out to last night after we watched The Breakfast Club.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Heather beat me to the punch.

"She's one of the servant girls," the blonde bombshell said casually, flipping her perfect hair over her shoulder. "Look, she left her duster on the... uh... dresser," she said, pointing vaguely toward the bureau.

I bit my lip to keep myself from saying too much. The look on my face must have told Anton that I'd seen what they were doing a few seconds ago, and I could tell he smelled how my body reacted to what I had seen. The poor thing was doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact with me.

Heather walked up to me and handed me the feather duster with an exaggerated smile. I had to crane my neck just to look up at her. She was tall, statuesque even. And up close, she was even more stunning than ever. No wonder Anton went for her.

I glanced at her chest. Those had to be at least D cups. Meanwhile, I had ironing boards strapped to my ribs. Her hips were wide and curvy while I was shaped like a Swizzle juice box. I had no curves whatsoever.

"Are you done?" Anton asked, lowering his arm now. He damn well knew I wasn't a threat. I was still standing there like a complete idiot, staring at him. He was just so damn cute, plus after last night I thought he would at least introduce me to his other friends.

Why was he so hot? I found myself wondering. And the fact that I'd just seen his appendage was not helping my blush level.

"He's asking if you're done cleaning the shithouse," Heather snapped, her voice soaked in sarcasm.

"Ye-yes," I stuttered. "It's all done."

"Did you get the piss ring out of the bowl?" Heather asked, cocking a brow.

"Yes," I nodded. She was doing everything in her power to make sure I didn't forget my place.

"Good," she grinned.

Anton pulled his wallet from his pocket. He flipped it open, took out a paper note, and handed it to me. "Here you go. It's for all your hard work."

My cheeks burned as I accepted the Moonmark. A real, shiny, crispy Moonmark. Normally, we got paid in Howlcoins. I got five Howlcoins per week. So it would take me six months of pay to save 100 Howlcoins, which would be equivalent to one Moonmark.

"Thank you. You're too kind." I felt a little embarrassed for what I was being tipped for, but I'm a smart girl, smart enough to know not to turn down such money.

"Alright, servant girl," Heather interjected with a sugary-sweet smirk. "Grab your little cleaning crap and leave. Anton and I have some unfinished business to take care of. Alone."

"Don't be rude, Heather," Anton said, giving her a look.

"Whatever," she hissed, throwing her arms around his neck like she was a vine and he was a tree. She started kissing his neck and nibbling on his ear while his hands slid down to clutch her waist.

"Heather, easy," he chuckled. "At least wait until she leaves."

Her dark eyes found me, showcasing her wolf was at the surface.

"What are you still doing here?!" she barked at me. "Do you like watching people fuck? Is that it? Does this type of stuff get you off?"

"No! No! Of course not," I gulped. "I'm leaving now," I grumbled, spinning around to grab my cleaning supplies from the bathroom. I was just about to dip out when Anton stopped me.

"Wait!" he called out. I turned around, my heart thudding in my ears. "What's your name?" he asked. I hated playing this game, like we hadn't been getting to know each other for the past five weeks, but I went along with it.

Heather rolled her eyes while she grumbled profanities under her breath.

"It's Asia."

"Nice to meet you, Asia." He smiled. "Do you like parties?"

"Of course," I said automatically. "But I've... never been to one."

"Well, there's one being held in the Lunar Caves tonight. It's in honor of Conan. You've heard of him, right? He's the Alpha's son. It's his Moonday, and he's finally coming home after ten years. A bunch of us are throwing him a welcome-home party. You should come."

Even though I didn't know I shared the same birthday as the future Alpha, Anton's invite wasn't a coincidence. He knew it was my Moonday. I had told him during our heart-to-heart last night.

I hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Please," he said, eyes locking with mine. "I want you to come. Bring a friend or two if you'd like."

And when he smiled at me, I just couldn't refuse him.

"Okay. I'll see you there," I said, my voice a bit too perky for my liking.

The second I stepped into the hallway and the door slammed shut behind me, I could hear them going at it like rabbits.

I sighed.

'Why would you torture yourself like that? You should've said no,' Lyria grumbled. 'I hate feeling like his dirty little secret.'

'You're so negative, Lyria. It's our Moonday. We have the night off. Don't you think we deserve a little fun?'

'Fine. But when the moon's out, we'll finally shift and be able to sense our mate. I don't want to waste time with those bunch of morons when our mate's waiting for us out there.'

'Who knows, maybe our mate will be Anton.'

'I doubt that. Omegas like us usually end up with other omegas. The Moon Goddess rarely throws us a bone.'

I groaned and took the back staircase down to the servants' quarters, hugging my cleaning tote to my chest like it was a shield.

******

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to process the weirdest, most humiliating, yet oddly exciting encounter of my life.

Anton Sharptooth was finally ready to talk to me in public. He smiled at me in front of Heather, gave me a Moonmark, invited me to a party, then proceeded to get naked with his hookup while I stood on the other side of the wall... with cleaning supplies in my hand.

Normal girls would be scarred. But not me. I couldn't wait to write this all down in my journal.

Then I remembered I left my bag with my diary in Anton's room.

"Shit!" I cried out loud. My hands soaked in dishwater.

"Hey, who died?" my best friend Patsy asked while she was drying the clean dishes.

"No one. I just remembered I left something important in Anton's room."

"What? Your virginity?" she joked.

"Patsy. This is serious."

"Ok. What did you leave?" She asked.

"My diary."

"You mean the one you're always writing those sex fantasies about Anton in?"

"That exact same one."

"Shit! You have to go get it. If it ever falls into the wrong hands, then..." she trailed off.

"Then my life will be over," I finished for her. "Will you come with me?"

Patsy hesitated. "I don't know. I'm already on Miss Beatrice's bad side."

"If you come with me, I'll help you with your chores and then you can be my plus one to the party that Anton invited me to later."

"What? You got an invite to the Lunar Cave rave?" She asked.

"Yes. But it's more of a Moonday celebration for the Alpha's son. Rumor has it he is on his way home," I told her, knowing my best friend loved good gossip.

"Alright. What are we waiting for? We have a diary to go find," she beamed.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet, because if we get caught, you're taking all the blame."

"Ok. Deal."

3: Brown-Eyed Baby

"It's not here!" I yelled, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. "What if Anton found it? What if he read it? Goddess, my life will be over. Beatrice will get wind of it, then fire me, and since I'm not fully inaugurated into the pack, I'd become a rogue!"

Patsy smacked me across the face.

"Ouch!" I cried out.

"Snap the fuck outta it!" she said, gripping my shoulders. "You can't think like that. We're not giving up just yet. Now look at me, are you sure you left it here?"

"I'm positive. I put it in my bag and set it on the floor while I went to clean the bathroom."

Just then, the door burst open and Mina, one of the girls recently promoted to clean the Beta's house rushed in.

"Beatrice is coming. You girls have to go!" she said with her eyes wide. Then, noticing the panic on my face, she asked, "Did you find your bag?"

"No, I didn't," I sighed.

"I'm sorry. I'll keep an eye out for you."

"Thanks."

We slipped out into the corridor just in time to see Miss Beatrice heading into one of the rooms to inspect it.

"Now's our chance to leave without being seen," Patsy whispered.

"Wait, I just remembered something," Mina said, stopping us. "Heather, that blonde chick who's always hanging around here.. she gave a bag to Miss Beatrice earlier. Could it be yours?"

"Shit! It could be!" I bit my lip nervously.

"If that's the case, Miss Beatrice probably put it with the rest of the stuff we cleaners sometimes leave behind by mistake," Mina explained.

"Okay, we should head to the trinkets closet next," Patsy stated.

"Good luck," Mina said as we slipped out the front door.

******

Patsy and I spent about ten minutes rummaging through the trinkets closet before I finally found my bag. I unzipped it in a frenzy and nearly collapsed from relief when I saw my pink diary inside.

"Thank Goddess!" I praised, lifting the book to my lips and kissing it.

"See? You were worried about nothing," Patsy giggled. "Now let's go finish our chores. We've got a party to get ready for."

It took us the whole afternoon to wrap up our duties, and by the time the sun began dipping below the horizon, I was overwhelmed with nerves.

"Why do you look like Casper?" Patsy asked.

"I feel a little nauseous."

"You have nothing to be nervous about. You will look even more beautiful when I'm done with you."

I stood in front of the cracked mirror in the back room, trying on every outfit I owned—aka three slightly different black dresses.

One was too short. The other too long. The third had bleach stains all over it. I went with the short one. I figured if I was going to a party filled with high-ranked werewolves who barely knew I existed, I might as well show a little leg and hope the Moon Goddess was in a generous mood.

"You look great," Mina said, popping in from behind the curtain. She was wearing a skater skirt, combat boots, and a pink hoodie with the words Bite Me bedazzled on the front. Very on-brand.

"You think?" I smoothed my hair back. The curls were not curling right.

"I think you're about to show Anton Sharptooth what he's been missing out on."

"Does everyone know I have a thing for the Beta's son?" I asked with an eye roll.

Patsy and Mina looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

"Yeah," they said in unison.

"Ugh." I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"Look," Mina said, "since Conan is coming home, that means Heather will probably run back to him and leave Anton a free agent."

"So the Alpha's son is really coming home tonight?" I asked, eyes widening.

I'd heard tales about him. Conan Godfrey. The legend. The scandal. Apparently, before he left for his overseas Alpha warrior training, he was the most eligible bachelor in the entire pack. Girls used to faint just walking past him. One time, someone claimed he winked at her and she passed out for four whole minutes.

People say he was six-foot-something, had a jawline sharp enough to slice through iron, and a smirk that could get you pregnant on sight. Some of the older she-wolves swore he was hotter than Anton.

Such blasphemy.