Novels by Anna T

Micha’s POV The penthouse is eerily quiet without Callan or Eric; growing up in a pack, I was used to being surrounded by people, and as soon as Ayla becomes Luna, I will move back into the pack house and say goodbye to this sweet bachelor pad and the quiet life I was still unaccustomed to. Waking up every morning without the hustle and bustle of the pack getting ready for the day was still taking some getting used to, but I will miss the peace of not being needed and my late-night booty calls. *I’m almost there.* Callan informs me just as the toaster pops up, filling the penthouse with the first sound I've heard all morning other than myself. I grab my toast and shove it into my mouth while grabbing my phone, keys, and wallet and shove them into my pocket. The door below me slams shut, and I know Ayla has just left for work. *Ayla is on the move; I’m right behind her though.* *Thank you, Micha.* I bounce down the steps, chewing on the toast, when the bottom door opens and Mr

Ayla POV “Marcus, what are you doing here?” My stomach felt like it was plummeting to the earth; chills ran down my spine as Marcus emerged from the shadows; the darkness seemed to shroud him, and the air in the garage felt cold, making goosebumps ripple across my skin. His usual perfect hair was dishevelled, and his bright blue eyes looked dark and demented; large dark circles encased his eyes, making them look sunken into his face; his smooth, clean-shaven jaw was coated with a dark beard that looked scraggly and unkempt; and his expensive clothes that he took great pride in keeping pristine looked wrinkled with ketchup and gravy stains down his front. If I saw him down the street and I didn’t know how vein he was, I would have thought he had been sleeping in them for a few days. A sour taste filled my mouth as my eyes darted around the garage and the dread of knowing we were alone hit me. “Ayla, I miss you; please come back.” I had never been afraid of Marcus, but right no

Ayla POV I felt paralysed; fear had taken hold of my body, and I was unable to move. The room was dark, so dark I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face, but I could see his eyes; they peered out from the darkness burning into my soul. His raspy breathing echoed all around me, and my heart pounded hard against my chest. I could hear the sound of his bones creaking as he stepped out of the darkness, the ceiling stretched up or I shrunk in size, because Runduc looked like a giant now; his face was gaunt and his skin a deathly white, but his eyes glowed brightly, like searchlights seeking me out. His bony fingers reached out toward me; they moved like vines as they weaved their way toward me. All I could do was watch as his vine-like fingers coiled around my feet, tightening as they moved up my body, engulfing me. “Hey, it’s ok. It was just a bad dream. I’m here.” As I jumped up, I felt his arms wrapping around me. I had never felt as safe as I did in his arms in my entire life

Eric POV Now… The door to the living room opened, and Callan walked back in after taking Ayla to his old bedroom. Even though he was beside himself with Freya being attacked, I could tell that having Ayla here made him happy, and he deserved some happiness after a lifetime of abuse. He could concentrate fully on Freya knowing Ayla was safe because this part of the pack house was for the high-ranking members of the pack; no members of the pack were allowed in this part of the house unless invited, meaning we had total privacy and no one would disturb Ayla. Cora had just had the room redecorated, removing all traces of Alister. The furniture had been dumped and new furniture was arriving soon, meaning we only had the floor to pace whilst we waited, but I didn’t mind; moving helped my mind from slipping back to that dreadful moment of finding Freya beaten and bloodied on the forest floor. Callan cleared his throat, making my legs stop moving to look at him. “Do we know what happened

Ayla POV The room was large but it felt so warm and cosy. The smell of fresh paint vexed my senses, but Callan’s aftershave helped keep the sting away. The walls were a light greenish-brown colour that reminded me of a mushroom, or the forest. Dark wooden beams ran across the ceiling, and a large stone fireplace took pride in the centre of the room. The mantle sat high above a large wood-burning stove, almost as tall as Callan, and I could just make out the pictures that sat proudly on top of it. “Freya is ok; she’s already beginning to heal.” Callan’s mother said. She strolled toward Callan, her heels clicking against the dark wooden floor, making the sound bounce around the large and barren room, she kissed him tenderly on his cheek before turning to me. She placed her hand on my arm and gave me a loving smile, her eyes looked red and swollen and her skin looked splotchy. “What happened?” “Rogues!” Eric growled. The growl that came from Eric sounded so primal and feral that m

Eric POV Earlier that day... “I will let the building inspector know we are completed,” I said as I looked down the street of the small estate we had created on this once-barren wasteland. Years of hard work, sweat, and tears were now all wrapped up, and I was glad of it; this site had been a ball ache. But it was worth it as I looked at the perfect lawns and beautiful homes ready to be filled with families who would create lasting memories in something I had helped create. “So when do we start on the new site?” Jerry asked. “I don’t know,” I answered just as my phone began to ring in the breast pocket of my jacket. “Excuse me.” I turned around and began to walk back to my car. Freya’s name flashed on the screen, and my heart raced. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before I answered. I don’t know why Freya affected me like this; ever since the other day when I felt that blast of energy as my hand touched hers, I’ve been unable to get her out of my mind, and it was infu