Novels by Author Blair

JULIETTE It’s him. The man I thought I’d never see again. My legs feel like they’re going to give out, and I grip the bouquet tighter to keep myself steady. My mind races, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. How could this… be? His blue eyes widen slightly, faintly as he stares at me, and I know he recognizes me too. The same shock I’m feeling is mirrored on his face. For a moment, the entire room seems to fade away, the weight of our shared secret pressing down on us. I don’t know how long we stay like that, frozen in each other’s gaze. But eventually, he recovers, his expression smoothing into something unreadable as he’s wheeled closer to the altar. The queen regent smiles warmly as he takes his place beside me, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. “Shall we begin?” she asks. I can barely nod, my thoughts a chaotic mess. This changes everything. It… complicates everything. But as I glance at him again, the weight in my chest shifts.

JULIETTE I wake up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, my head pounding like a drum. For a moment, I cling to the hope that everything about last night was just a dream, a figment of my imagination brought on by exhaustion. But the dull ache in my body says otherwise. The soreness between my legs begs to differ, and when I pull the sheet tighter around me, the truth is impossible to ignore. I turn my head, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes land on him. The nameless man from last night is sprawled across the bed, lying on his stomach with the sheets barely covering his lower back. Tones muscles on full display. His blonde hair is a tousled mess, strands falling across his face, and I can just make out the rise and fall of his chest. He looks peaceful, like he belongs to a different world than mine, one without responsibilities or broken promises. For a moment, I let myself imagine staying here, freezing this fragile intimacy in time. But the weight in my

JULIETTELike a man on a mission, my feet don’t stop moving. Not when I make it passed the pack gates, not even when I stumble across the city lights. I keep moving with one goal in mind. And once the bar comes into view, I know I made a great decision tonight. Getting shit-faced. I had my heart broken by the one person I trusted the most in the entire world. The betrayal stung--still stings to be honest--at least I’m brave enough to admit that. The goddess plays the cruelest jokes sometimes. I’ve tried not to let myself stew in it. But sometimes, the grief just hits. I shrug off the bitterness as I step into the crowded pub. A slow grimace forms as I take in the ambience. And the men. Lots of them. It’s packed. Brimming with people with various agendas for the night. Mine is singular though, as I make a beeline for the single empty seat on the bar. ​My gaze travels down the line of men hunched over the long table, chugging this or that while stewing over the

JULIETTEI stand frozen, staring at Evan and Jane. My heart feels like it’s crumbling, breaking apart piece by piece as the weight of his words sinks in. He says he loves her—My sister. My entire body trembles as I look between them, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing, but there’s nothing to understand. It’s as clear as day. The betrayal almost paralyzes me. I can’t stay here. Infact, I can’t breathe. Without another word, I turn and bolt from the penthouse, my vision blurred by tears that I can’t stop. The world feels distant, as if I’m moving through a dream. An endlesss nightmare. My chest aches with every step I take, my lungs burning as I stumble into the elevator. When I finally reach the street, I hail a cab and climb in, collapsing into the seat. The driver says something, but I don’t hear him. I just give him the address and stare out the window, the tears coming faster now, unstoppable. My mind replays the scene over and over—Evan, his face so calm

JULIETTEI push open the back door to the kitchen, balancing two heavy grocery bags in my arms. My shoulder aches from the weight, but I don’t dare ask for help. Nobody in this house ever helps me. That’s just how it is. I sidestep a servant carrying a tray of tea, nodding politely as I pass. Yes, we have servants. You’d think that would mean I’d never have to lift a finger, but that’s not how things work here. My stepmother, Marianne, makes sure of that. This life wasn’t what I expected when my father brought me here. I used to think it would be better than living alone after my mother died, but sometimes I wonder if being an orphan would’ve been easier. My father is the enforcer of Alpha Blackwell’s pack, but that doesn’t mean much to me. He’s hardly ever around, and when he is, he’s distant, like I’m a reminder of a mistake he made. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever meet him once upon a time. Growing up, he was just a name, a shadow in the stories my m