Novels by Bree

Cassian’s POVI stilled.Those bruises weren’t mine.Not this time.And the sight of it broke something in me.As I untied her left hand that was already chained, I kept my gaze fixed on her bruised hand.They were fresh, raw, ugly fingerprints on delicate flesh. A sick hue of blue-black blooming like rot beneath porcelain skin.My chest went still. Then… it erupted.The fury didn’t come loud. It came quiet. The kind of quiet that meant something inside me had broken. Irrevocably. The kind of quiet that always preceded the storm.I yanked her closer, examining the marks as her body stiffened.“Who did this?” I asked, low and grave.She flinched.“I said—who did this?”“I—it’s nothing. It’s no one. It was just an accident,” she whispered.My head snapped up. Her eyes were too wide, her voice too soft. A practiced tremble. A damn lie wrapped in innocence.“An accident?” I echoed, darkly amused.“I bumped into someone in the hallway. That’s all,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing deep or p

Cassian's POV I yanked her closer again, my voice dropping to a venom-laced rasp. “Did he breathe on you? Look at you like you were his?”Her lips trembled. “I’m not a property to be owned by anyone.”The laugh that clawed its way out of my chest wasn’t human. It cracked through the air, sharp and manic.“No?” I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Then why do you keep coming back?”She didn't reply. Couldn't.Because we both knew why.“You hate this,” I said, dragging her fingers to the raw cut on my knuckle. “You hate me. But here you are. With trembling hands and bleeding sympathy—for a man who doesn’t even have a name in this house. While I, the devil you can’t stand, am the one holding your leash.”I pressed her palm to my chest—over my heartbeat. Let her feel the violence thudding beneath my skin.“You can never be free, Reina,” I growled. “Not out there. Not in here. You walk out that door again and come back late, I’ll make you pay. You breathe for someone else,

Reina's POV “Oh my god…” I choked, the sound barely escaping my lips.His knuckles were split, red and raw, the dried blood cracking as he flexed his fingers. He hadn’t just ordered this violence—he participated in it. With relish.The second I heard his voice—smooth, arrogant, and soaked in bloodlust—I felt it all crashing back.“Ah,” he said, his voice like velvet dipped in venom. “Welcome home, dolcezza.”Of course, I thought bitterly. Of course I’m back to this.The grotesque image from earlier at Don Marcello’s mansion slammed into my mind like a freight train. That poor man—strung up like livestock. Limp. Broken. The other one that had his tongue cut out also like a fucking livestock.And now… this.Another broken body.Another monster perched on a throne.Birds of the same damn feather, I thought as I stared at Cassian’s bloodied knuckles, his sick smirk, the way he observed pain like it was art.They all wore suits, smoked cigars, and thought pain was poetry.My instincts ove

Reina’s POVReality Check, A.K.A. Total Collapse“Fuck!”The word exploded from my lips the second I saw the time.Mr. Morelli was going to kill me.I launched out of the floor like I’d been tasered, heart slamming against my ribs. I dashed to the bathroom, half-tripping on the way, and flicked on the light——and froze.Oh god.I stared at my reflection like it was a jump scare. My face looked like it had lost a wrestling match with a tornado. Hair completely wild, like someone had been fisting it in their sleep. Was that… was that drool on my chin? My eyes were swollen, heavy with sleep and regret. And what the hell was that gunk crusted in the corner?Fantastic. Just fantastic!I leaned in closer, squinting.No. No, no, no—why do my freckles look like they’ve migrated to an entirely new zipcode? Were they always that uneven?Did he see all of this?Shame coiled in my chest like a snake. No wonder he kept laughing. That hot neighbor. Roman. He probably thought I was a damn ghost—dish

Reina's POV Oh god.How can he be so—dazzling. Is he the sun?I gripped the edge of the door harder than necessary. The metal felt cool under my fingertips, grounding. Because everything else in me was on fire.He smiled—and just like that, the room disappeared. No walls, no floor, no time. Just him. That lazy, boyish curve of his lips that hit somewhere between confidence and danger.“Hi,” he said, his voice smooth like silk dipped in gravel. “I just moved in next door. Saw you come in earlier... figured I’d stop by and introduce myself.”My brain short-circuited.He kept going, oblivious to the meltdown happening behind my carefully neutral face.“I’m new in town,” he added, eyes twinkling just enough to feel like a tease. “Still getting my bearings. Hope you don’t mind if I come to you for help from time to time?”Words. Right. Say something. Anything.Instead, I blinked like a deer. My mouth opened—and something not English fell out.“I’m good! I mean… nurse! No—I mean, I’m rarel

Reina's POV The weight of the silence pressed down as Mr. Harrow adjusted his glasses, pen poised over the stack of documents. “Miss Vale,” he began again, voice professional, steady, “as executor of your father’s estate, I need your decision. The proposal outlined in the will is clear. If you decline the marriage arrangement with Mr. Andrew Coleman, the entire estate—assets, properties, investments—will be transferred to him.”Lucy leaned forward with a smug gleam in her eye. Andrew sat poised, as if seconds away from tasting victory.I kept my face still. Cold. Controlled.“I’m already married,” I said.The room fell into stunned silence.Mr. Harrow’s pen froze. Lucy’s head jerked toward me, her eyes widening. Andrew blinked, expression caught between disbelief and rage.“I’m sorry?” Harrow asked, clearly thrown.“I said, I’m married,” I repeated, voice even. “Legally. Before all these. Out of state. And the last I checked, his name is not Andrew Coleman.”Lucy slammed her hands on

Ava’s POVThe crisp autumn breeze carried the scent of fallen leaves as I stood before Richard’s tomb, dressed in a flowing white dress that billowed around my ankles. It had been over two years since the chaos, since the battles that tested our strength, our love, and our resilience. Two years since we lost the man who gave me—gave all of us—a new chance at life. A chance at love, at family, at something real. I felt a gentle press against my hand and turned slightly, meeting the warm gaze of my mother-in-law. Without words, I passed her a knowing smile and squeezed her hand back. We had arranged this ceremony not to mourn, but as a reunion. A day to celebrate Richard’s life rather than grieve his absence. Laughter and quiet conversations floated through the cemetery as familiar faces gathered. Holly stood a few feet away, her phone in hand, a small, amused smile playing on her lips as she typed away. I narrowed my eyes, curiosity sparking in my chest. Was she texting… a boy? I

Epilogue Orion stood alone on the balcony of the penthouse, the cool morning air brushing against his skin as his thoughts drifted to the past. He had sold the mansion—the one he and Ava once called home. The memories that filled those walls had become too painful to bear. The haunting image of that particular morning played in his mind, unbidden and relentless. Ava in his arms, blood staining her dress as she struggled to breathe, coughing up blood. “Don’t talk, Ava. Please… just stay with me. Somebody get the ambulance!” His frantic cries echoed in his ears as the paramedics wheeled her away, her weak hand reaching out, telling him with her eyes to let her go. Despite the terror in his chest, he listened to her wish and watched her leave, helpless to follow. Uncle Theo had dragged him away, his voice hollow, urging him to pull himself together. “Ava, your wife, will want you here,” Theo had said. Those words, heavy with unspoken meaning, drove him to storm into the conference ha

Ava’s POVThe incessant ringing of our phones jolted us awake. I stirred, unwilling to leave the warmth of Orion's arms. He hesitated for a moment before reaching for his phone on the headboard. His body stiffened as he listened to whoever was on the other end. Suddenly, he shot upright. “What do you mean by that?” he barked into the phone, his tone sharp and commanding. My curiosity piqued, I sat up and watched him intently. “Schedule a meeting for today,” he ordered before tossing the phone aside and raking his hand through his disheveled hair. “What happened?” I asked, my voice cautious. He turned to look at me, his expression softening. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, just some… minor concern at my company,” he replied, placing a reassuring kiss on my hand. His lips then trailed from my hand to my arm, my shoulder, my neck, and finally to my ear. “Stop,” I said, smiling as I half-heartedly pushed him away. But before things could go further, my own phone rang. Orion

Orion’s POV“Holly?” I called out, my voice laced with shock. Ava’s head snapped toward the door, and in an instant, she was on her feet, rushing to her sister. Pulling Holly into a tight embrace, Ava clung to her as if letting go would make her disappear. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably. “What happened? Why are you crying?” Holly asked, her voice filled with confusion. “I just missed you,” Ava whispered, her voice soft but thick with emotion. Rose stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Holly, why are you here so suddenly? Your bodyguard didn’t notify me about this visit.” Holly’s next words landed like a thunderclap. “That’s because he’s dead.” “What?” Ava gasped, pulling back from her sister. Her posture straightened as the words sank in. “What do you mean? What happened? When did this happen?” she asked, her voice rising with urgency. Holly’s gaze dropped, her hands trembling as she whispered, “It’s Dad.” She looked directly at Ava, fear etched

Orion’s POVCradling Ava's limp form against me, her body cold and still, the past week came crashing into my mind like a relentless tide, dragging me back to the darkest moments. Chloe’s voice, as clear as if she were standing right here, played over and over in my head.I closed my eyes, fighting the flood of memories, but they came anyway. The first time she’d called after the scandal had faded—her calm, unnervingly calculated tone—it had felt like the beginning of something dangerous. Something insidious.“I want you there at six,” she'd threatened, her voice oozing venom masked as sweetness. “Or I’ll make sure this goes public. Think I’m bluffing? I’ve got a video that’ll destroy you, Orion. Imagine how she’ll react when she sees it. All those nights... How do you think she’ll feel watching our sex video?”The poison in her words sank into my skin, the memory of that call still fresh. “Remember Chicago?” Chloe had murmured, her breath deliberate, every word a careful caress. “I

Ava’s POV Mason.“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice curious as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. He didn’t respond, but only walked further into the room.“I was just about to call you, but…” My words trailed off as I took in his appearance. He was still wearing the same turtleneck and coat I’d seen him in yesterday. In the middle of summer. I frowned. "Mason, it’s sweltering outside. Why are you still dressed like this? You could at least lose the coat. I know this is a corporate setting, but I would never question you even if you didn’t dress so formally.”Mason smirked faintly, brushing off my comment, but before he could respond, Orion spoke, his voice laced with suspicion and accusation. “Why are you wearing so many layers in this weather?” He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. “Orion,” I warned, my tone firm. “That’s enough.” Mason’s smirk twisted into a sneer as he locked eyes with Orion. “You don’t

The estate loomed into view like a palace of memories she wanted to bury. The towering gates, the long marble driveway, the manicured hedges. To anyone else, it looked like luxury.To her, it looked like a trap.A trap that could destroy all her plans.The moment they stepped inside, staff rushed to greet her. She didn’t recognize any of them despite their attempts to be friendly. They all wore the same annoying expression—concern mingled with curiosity.As if wondering what had really happened to Miss Ivy.Lila smiled.Fake. Perfect. Practiced.She had no choice now.“It’s good to be home,” she said smoothly.Richard narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing.They led her up to her room, the unfamiliar halls pressing in around her like the walls of a tomb. The maids bustled in behind her, changing the sheets, restocking the drawers, pretending not to notice the tension radiating from her.When they left, she stood in the center of the room, staring at her reflection.Ivy stared bac

The scent of antiseptic hung thick in the air, cold and suffocating, clinging to the sterile white walls like a ghost that refused to leave. The room, though bathed in daylight streaming through a narrow, barred window, held no warmth. The only sounds were the distant echo of shoes on tile and the low, mechanical hum of machines monitoring the fragile boundary between sanity and madness.In the center of it all lay Lila.Or as the staff here knew her: Ivy Blackwood.Her brown hair was disheveled, matted to her forehead with sweat. Her pale skin, once radiant with carefully curated poise, now looked wan and haunted. Her eyes, wild and rimmed with exhaustion, flicked around the room like a cornered animal searching for an escape. But there was none. The straightjacket bound her arms tightly to her torso, and leather restraints anchored her ankles to the bed frame.She hadn’t spoken since the screaming stopped.The nurses whispered when they thought she couldn’t hear. Said she was mad. T

Leo’s POVThe battlefield quieted, save for the crackling fires and the groans of the dying. My pulse still thundered in my ears, but the bloodlust began to ebb, leaving behind a sharp, aching clarity.I stood among the ruins of Malrik’s failed rebellion, blood soaking my skin, teeth still stained from the life I had ripped from their veins. The night was far from over—I could feel it, like a splinter in my mind. Something dark was coming.The air shifted.Colder. Heavier.Even my warriors sensed it. Their post-battle roars died out, one by one, and an unnatural silence swallowed the clearing. Connor’s lips curled into a snarl, Zane’s claws still dripped red, but their eyes darted to the treeline.Then I saw her.She stepped out of the shadows like smoke made flesh.Dina.The last time I saw her, she stood in front of my throne room, asking me to sacrifice my mate. She hadn’t changed—still dressed in her dark robes that rippled like oil in the wind, her face pale and ageless, her eye

Ivy’s POVThe fourth day turned out to be the worst.Worse because I am still alive. Worse because every time Alpha Raul marked me, the pain got sharper. Deeper.And every time, my wolf—valiantly, defiantly—rejected him.The room stank of sweat, old blood, and Alpha Raul’s scent—thick and clinging like rot. My body was raw, my neck a patchwork of torn flesh where Raul had tried to mark me over and over. But my wolf—the last spark of resistance I had left—rejected him every time. And each rejection felt like death.The mark was slow to heal, and before it could fully fade, Alpha Raul would sink his teeth into the same spot—reopening the wound and claiming it all over again.Each time he sank his fangs into me, it was as if my soul was being torn in half, only to be stitched together by burning wire. I would scream until my voice gave out, until my throat was ragged and raw, until the pain folded me into unconsciousness. But every time I came back, chained and shivering, he would try a

Leo’s POVThe air crackled with energy as I stepped onto the battlefield, the scent of war thick on the wind—blood, sweat, steel. The moon hung low, bloated and red like it was thirsty for carnage. Good. It would feast tonight.My boots crushed charred earth as I led my warriors across the eastern border of the palace, where Malrik’s pathetic rebellion had gathered like a swarm of diseased rats. I could hear their howls echoing in the distance, could hear the roar of their chants—wild, desperate, undisciplined. Fools.Zane met me at the front lines, blood already staining his cheek and his blade. “They’ve broken through the outer ring,” he said breathlessly, “but they’re sloppy. No formation. Just brute force.”I sneered. “Then let’s show them what real force looks like.”I shifted.Bones cracked, flesh tore, and a searing fire ignited in my veins as my wolf burst free. My muscles expanded, fur black as shadow blanketing me, claws gleaming like blades. But it wasn’t just my wolf—my va

Leo’s POVMy hand shot out, grabbing Dante by the throat again —but this time, I didn’t squeeze. I leaned in, my golden eyes burning with a primal, ancient rage. Does the name Blackwood ring a bell?" I growled, my face mere inches from his. I watched his features quiver, the slight tremor betraying the fear he was too proud to voice.He didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink.Rage ignited in my veins. My fist slammed into his face—once, twice, again and again—until the wet crunch of bone and flesh filled the air. Blood sprayed across my shirt, warm and slick, but I didn’t stop. Not until his head lolled and his breath came in ragged, shuddering gasps.“Ivy Blackwood,” I murmured, my voice like a death sentence. “The woman you kidnapped weeks ago. The one whose life you almost ruined. The one you would have killed if she hadn’t escaped you.” Dante's body jerked violently beneath my grip, his muscles spasming as I held him in place. I struck his face—once, twice—the sharp crack echoin