Lenora Monroe left behind a dark past, but no matter how far she runs, the shadows follow her. Starting anew as a college professor, she believes she’s finally found a safe haven—until a night of drinks leads to her meeting Elijah North. Golden-eyed, arrogant and charming, Elijah ignites something in her that leads to her making a spur of the moment decision. Her life is tossed into chaos when she realises that the man she just spent the night with was not only her student, but the son of the Alpha, a man she was now indebted to. Bound by a bond neither can explain or deny, their relationship is forbidden, dangerous, and intoxicating. The two are forced to the realities their forbidden relationship, the drama that comes with it as well as the demons that plague them. With her past colliding with his power-hungry family, Lenora and Elijah find themselves trapped in a web of tension, dominance, and desire. Every stolen moment ignites passion—and every confrontation pushes them closer to the edge of destruction. In a world where control is everything, can they fight for a love meant to be forbidden? Or will their desires tear them apart?
Lihat lebih banyakWhen my mother was pregnant with me, my parents visited the goddess’s temple, as was customary for every child born in the werewolf community.They had tried and failed for six long years to conceive—two miscarriages, countless priestly consultations, endless late-night prayers whispered into the dark. After multiple visits to both the temple and the pack gynaecologist, they finally managed to have me—a child who lasted longer than four months in the womb. Unlike the others.It wasn’t normal for werewolves to miscarry. And since my parents were mates, conception should never have been an issue. Their case was a mystery, one that made my survival even more precious. Even more terrifying.By the time they approached the temple, their hearts were raw with grief but beating with desperate hope.My mother knelt at the altar, eyes squeezed shut. The priestess beside her offered a soft, reassuring smile. Her hands were folded in solemn prayer, her lips moving with practiced speed as she murm
After that, I found Victor’s office quite quickly.I paused outside the door for a moment to gather myself, biting down on my lower lip as I attempted to tamp down the regret rising in my gut.I hadn’t planned on saying all that to Elijah. I hadn’t wanted him to know that his actions on Friday had affected me that way… but what’s done is done. Now I was a few minutes away from being reunited with my best friend—it was time to put Elijah North and his behaviour behind me.I knocked twice, and a beat of silence passed before I heard Victor’s voice call out.“Come in.”I pushed open the door and strode in. I met Izaak’s eyes briefly before turning my attention to Victor, who was perched at the edge of his desk, documents in hand, watching me with that unsettling twinkle in his blue eyes.“Alpha,” I said, dipping into a bow.He didn’t say a word as I straightened, but his eyes were fixed on me as usual, picking apart every expression on my face—everything my body language could reveal.I
On Saturday evening, Izaak reached out to me to inform me that Victor had requested my presence on Sunday morning at 10 a.m.—no earlier, no later.When I tried asking him if that meant they’d successfully managed to get Jessie out of Marcus’s clutches, he just hung up on me.I guess I had to go to find out.The events of Friday evening had almost completely distracted me from everything relating to Jessie, and that made me feel both guilty and determined—determined to finally push aside all unnecessary thoughts and concern I had towards Elijah North.After all, see where all my misplaced concern had gotten me. I still couldn’t get the steely look in his eyes and the cold malice in his voice out of my head. Elijah and I weren’t friends per se—I had always tried to keep a sizeable distance between us—but we weren’t strangers either, and he always made it seem like there might be something more between us… or did he say that solely to fuck with me?Either way, as much as I didn’t want to
I drove home in silence, the weight of last night pressing down on me like a boulder. The streets were empty, washed in the dull glow of streetlights, but my mind was anything but. It was a mess of fragmented memories, guilt gnawing at me with every turn of the wheel.After leaving the room—leaving them—I hadn’t even stopped to think. I just needed to get out, needed to be anywhere but there. The feel of Sarah’s skin still clung to mine like filth, and no matter how many times I wiped my palms against my jeans, I still felt unclean.My head throbbed, a dull pounding at the base of my skull, and my stomach churned with a mixture of exhaustion, nausea, and shame. I barely remembered the drive itself—just the sharp focus on the road, on getting home. On getting away.By the time I pulled up to my apartment, my hands were shaking against the steering wheel. I exhaled sharply, resting my forehead against it for a brief second before forcing myself to move. Just get inside. Shower. Figure o
I only remembered bits and pieces of yesterday.Whatever drugs I took, they were strong enough to wipe most of it clean. The entire day was a blur—just short gaps, fragmented bursts of sound, movement and images slipping through my mind like sand through my fingers.I remembered Friday morning. That part was clear. My only class, then heading back to train with my father. Another mission. An interrogation.There had been someone—someone we’d caught. I couldn’t remember who, or what they did, but I remembered the room. The heavy scent of sweat, blood, and fear clinging to the walls. My father’s voice, low and cold, as he demanded answers. The sharp crack of bone snapping. The sound of a man’s screams ringing in my ears. I remember him pleading. And I remembered myself. Standing there, watching. My stomach twisting. My hands clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.I don’t remember what he did to them in the end. If they lived or died. I didn’t remeber if I’d joined in, I
I found him near the back of the room.Elijah was sprawled out on a couch, surrounded by a crowd of students talking and jeering, bodies leaning into each other in drunken familiarity.But my gaze was fixed on him. His head was tipped back, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. His shirt was rumpled, his pupils blown wide, and from the dazed look in his eyes, he was completely out of his mind.And Sarah was stretched out across his lap.She draped herself over him like she belonged there, her fingers trailing across his chest, nails skimming the exposed skin at the base of his throat. She whispered something low and teasing, and Elijah let out a slow chuckle, his hand coming up to rest on her hip.My throat tightened. Irritation surged through me—hot, possessive, irrational. I tamped it down, forcing myself to focus, but before I could move, someone spotted me.A whistle pierced the air.Laughter followed. Heads turned. And then Elijah’s gaze landed on me.He stared for a moment, blinking
After assuring Morgan that I was fine—and mostly unaffected by what I dismissed as a childish attempt to rattle me—she reluctantly let it go. She muttered one last string of curses for the “unfortunate bastards who thought they were funny” before heading home.I watched her go, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the tension still coiled in my chest. I wasn’t used to having someone stand up for me so openly, to have someone express their anger for me instead of at me.The only person who had ever looked out for me before was Jessie. But even then, her concern had always been cautious, hidden beneath careful words and fleeting glances. Our friendship had been something fragile, something that could only exist in stolen moments—moments when we were sure Marcus or his people weren’t watching, when we knew we wouldn’t be punished for it.Outside those moments, Jessie could only watch with pitying eyes as I was yanked around and abused.Long after Morgan had left, I remained at my des
This might be the longest week of my life.The days dragged by, each one slower than the last, as I counted down to Saturday. Every morning, I woke with the same thought: One day closer. And every night, as I lay awake staring at the ceiling, the same questions turned over in my mind. How was Victor planning to get Jessie out? Would he even follow through? And what would he want from me once he did?I was relieved he’d agreed to help—I had no other options, and I knew that without him, Jessie’s fate was sealed. But that relief was laced with unease, a steady undercurrent of anxiety that never fully left me. I owed him too much already. The only reason I was still here, still breathing, was because of him. How much more would he demand?I could imagine the possibilities. Maybe he’d ask me to keep an even closer watch on Elijah, to report on more than just his grades. Maybe he’d expect me to use my position, to influence people on his behalf. Or maybe it would be something worse—somethi
I decided to call in sick for the next three days while I figured everything out.Technically, it wasn’t a lie—I was sick. Sick to my stomach, staring at the picture of Jessie, bruised, battered, and covered in blood. I stared at it for a long time, as if, if I just kept looking, the image would shift, distort—until suddenly, I’d realize it wasn’t really her.But no matter how long I sat in the middle of my living room, gripping my phone so tightly my fingers ached, the picture never changed. If anything, the longer I stared, the more I became convinced that the woman in the image was Jessie. And the sicker I felt.I tried texting the number back several times, but none of my messages went through. The number was private, untraceable—I couldn’t call it, nor could I get someone else to track it.I was lost.And after exhausting every option I could think of, I realized I had only two left.One: I could give up, return to Marcus, and face whatever punishment he had waiting for me.Or tw
The ball blurred in my vision, bouncing erratically, almost as if it had a mind of its own. My hands felt disconnected from my body, slippery and uncooperative. My heart pounded, not with adrenaline but with a frantic, disjointed rhythm that made my chest tight and my breathing shallow. The stadium air felt stifling behind my helmet, the lights glaring down like a spotlight on my every mistake. My legs were heavy, like they were sinking into the polished wood floor. My head swam, the edges of my vision darkening as I struggled to focus. “Move, Elijah!” Lukas’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding, but it sounded distant, as though he were shouting from underwater. Move. Move, I told myself. We were a few seconds away from winning or losing and with one right move, I could change the odds. I always did that, it was something that I was good at. But not right now, not in this state. I forced my feet to respond, to push forward, to do something. But my body betray...
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