Draven slowly lifted an eyebrow, the question visible in his gaze as he assessed the bullet on the table, and then he moved his attention to Belinda. The amusement was completely gone from his eyes. He was no longer the mischievous bad boy Belinda had spent the night with, but the formidable lord feared by wolves across two continents. The Lycan had gotten down to business. "This bullet was gotten from the storage area underneath my family's mansion. As you can see, it's made of silver." She explained. "Forgive me, I should introduce myself. I am Belinda Knight from the alpha family of the Chicago Pack." Silence descended on the room as Belinda waited for the Lycan to reply her, but when he didn't, she was forced to continue. "One of the laws that guides the werewolves under your rule forbids trade in silver wares and weapons. Well, my family doesn't just buy silver weapons, they make and sell them, and they have been doing so for years. Many think the Knight fortune comes from
The door clicked shut, leaving Draven and Cantor alone. Lazily standing from the couch, Draven strolled to the wastebin and threw in the stud of his cigarette. Cantor watched him, waiting for the elephant in the room to be addressed. Draven had a good idea of what was on his Beta's mind, but he said nothing. "Why did you agree to her requests?" Cantor spoke when it became obvious Draven wasn't going to be the first to open the topic. "You already knew of the Knight's family treachery. We had our own plans to deal with them. And you'll let the girl do as she pleases if she becomes your sex slave? That was just an excuse. Lust could never make you change your mind that easily." Draven crashed back down on the couch. Sighing, he folded his arms across his chest. "Was my decision that strange?" "I just can't understand why you did it." "Cantor, you've served me for nearly 40 years now, have you not?" Draven ensured that his voice was soft and calm, as he pinned a steady ga
Down on her knees, Belinda scrubbed the tiled floor of the family villa kitchen. She'd been working since morning, but she still had many rooms left to clean. It had been the pattern since she was little. The former alpha of the pack, her stepfather, had made it clear she had to earn her keep, so she'd been handling house chores as early as 5 years old. Once she and Baron were a bit older, their stepfather fired most of the servants and made them take over the work. The Knight family, of course, had the funds to employ more help, but they much preferred treating the illegitimate twins as slaves. A chubby old lady with graying red hair walked into the kitchen, her hands crossed at her back and her face set in a scowl. Mrs Brown had never really married—she was far too unlikeable for any relationship to last—but she'd taken the title of Mrs because she was embarrassed about being called Miss. As the head servant at the villa, she was the one person Belinda hated most, right after her f
"Why did you do it?" Georgina was taken aback. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips curved in an 'O', but no words came out. The expression on her beautiful face was a mixture of confusion, guilt, and... fear. It was the look in Belinda's eyes—it startled her. The silver eyes shone with anger, hatred, and cold bloodlust. And like magic, the look was gone. Belinda smiled sweetly at her mother. "Why did you stay outside? You could have come in and said hello to Derek." Georgina blinked once, twice, before finally regaining her senses. "Oh, I didn't want to intrude." She sounded way too breathless, like she was calming her racing heart. "Young love and all." Despite the hatred burning in her heart, Belinda kept her smile on. Georgina Knight, her dear old mother. To most, she was the kind and gracious Luna Mother of the Chicago Pack, but Belinda knew a different side of her—the side that watched as her husband beat her son till he became unconscious, the side that let her daughter b
Paul, Derek, Georgina—everyone read the room and focused on their supper, their heads bent and avoiding eye contact with the Lycan. Only Cecily blabbed on. She was talkative by nature, and far too dense to realize her opinions and stories weren't wanted. "I was always Daddy's favorite. He was so proud when I got first place in my middle school's whistling contest." "The potato is a little too soft today. Our cook is usually the best in town. Mommy never goes for less than the best. I can cook too. I was on a cooking show once." "I didn't catch your name. I'm Cecily, but my friends call me Cessie. What about you? You look like a George. There was this guy in college, his name was George and he was super cute. Are you a George?"The only one who dared show amusement was Cantor, his raised eyebrows questioning Cecily's overzealous attitude. It was funny how the Lycan ignored her, especially as it was obvious she was trying to impress him. Her eyes, which did not leave him,
EARLIER On leaving the dining room, Belinda searched through the west wing of the mansion, where she found Draven. He stood beside a window, occasionally glancing at the garden outside as he spoke into the phone. She rushed to him, till she stood directly in front of him. "Yes... I see... Then don't..." Draven continued his conversation with the person at the other end of the call as though she didn't exist. Belinda clenched her jaws, not because she was angry but because she was anxious. She was anxious to get this confrontation over with. When Draven at last distanced the phone from his ear and tucked it into his trousers, her heart skipped a beat, and not for good reasons. He nodded to Cantor and the Beta moved away, but still stayed nearby, watching them. Draven then faced Belinda squarely, his eyes boring a hole in her. "I can explain." Belinda started. Draven did not reply her but waited for her to continue. However, Belinda realized that she actually couldn't expla
"I can't believe your family let you have an engagement party. They never even threw you a birthday party in the past." Lexie Lancer slowly strolled past a hat store at the mall, admiring the pretty hats on display as she walked. She wore the camera she usually carried during her work hours around her neck, using a hand to support its weight. "Maybe they finally had a change of heart. I'll be Female Beta soon and they were probably thinking I at least deserve a good sendoff." A small black hat with a short net veil caught Belinda's eye. She decided to come back for it if her budget allowed it. Lexie snorted. "Yeah right." Both women stopped in front of a store named Grandeur. Belinda had never shopped there herself, as they sold luxury pieces, which she usually stayed away from, mostly because she couldn't afford them. She'd heard though, that this was the best place to shop for second-grade fashion items at a most affordable price. She and Lexie walked into the store with
As Belinda slipped her phone back into her purse, she asked, "How well can you make something go viral?" "What?" The sudden question surprised Lexie. "I'm asking how big is your social media presence. How many people listen when you talk?" "Well..." Lexie shrugged. "I've only got a few hundred followers on Instagram, but I'm a paparazzi. I have connections. If you want the internet in an uproar, I'm just the girl to call." "It's a good thing I have you then." For the second time that day, Belinda genuinely smiled. "I asked you to bring your camera today because I need photos of me of Derek shopping together taken. We have to make the picture of the perfect loved-up couple. Every pack on the continents, and even human blogs, needs to be talking about our engagement party. They must be expecting the wedding of the year." "You want people talking?" Lexie saluted, her straight face causing the action to appear even funnier. "I definitely am your girl." Belinda ga
Draven held Belinda close to himself, providing her comfort with his mere presence. He let her cuddle into him, waited till she stopped trembling, and eased into him. On the outside, he appeared calm and collected—powerful. On the inside though, his mind was whirling with questions, like for one... Why did Belinda smell strangely identical to Eudora? That had been the only difference. The one thing that had differentiated his mistress from the love of his life had been their distinct scents. However, as he'd made his way to Belinda, a burst of magic had exploded, the very same moment the scent he'd been following changed. He'd witnessed as the very scent that marked Belinda morphed, mixing with a subtle fragrance that turned her into someone entirely different. Someone who smelled like his Eudora. Her wolf had awakened, that much Draven could tell. Even in his arms, she still retained her werewolf form, her claws and fangs refusing to retract. But that didn't explain the electrifyin
The cold concrete came in contact with Belinda's palms and despite her feeble resistance, it pushed them backward, towards her chest. She gasped when there was nowhere left for her hands to go, the wall now touching her breasts. The pressure on her chest grew insistent, suffocating her lungs and making it hard to breathe. A strangled cry escaped her when a sharp pain shot through her, torching all her nerve endings. She heard the bones break, felt her ribs pierce her flesh. This was it, then, she thought. She really was going to die. Tears welled up deep inside Belinda, fighting to flow down her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to her fate. Despite going back in time, despite doing it all over again, she still died at the hands of her family. Even when given a second chance, she still lived a pathetic life. Derek was having a hard time looking for Belinda. He was beginning to wonder if hiding his scent was worth it, because he could hardly smell anything with the perfum
Paul stood in the foyer of the mansion, feeling smug and confident in his own capabilities. He'd taken care of the root of his problems, snipped his troublesome sister right in the bud. Now, all that was left was to replenish his lost wealth. Ideas ran through his head. Yes, he could do that. By the end of the year, he would be out of bankruptcy, stable enough to chase more profitable business ventures. And in five years' time, he would have made enough to be counted as Chicago's youngest and richest billionaire once again. He was still daydreaming about his future riches when a henchman ran into the foyer. He, and the two guards at his sides, turned to face the man who had just entered the room. The man's anxious expression caught their attention, as they wondered what could make a grown man lose his cool that much. They didn't have to wait long to get an answer. "Sir, we've been compromised." The henchman panted, indicating that he'd run here. "The house is surrounded."Paul f
Belinda strained to see in the darkness, the only source of light being the small crack where the two walls met. Feeling the cold concrete, she searched for a way out, maybe a secret lever hidden on the inside. She found none, and not surprisingly. She suspected that the space had been designed to keep people in, not let them out. Giving up for the time being, she directed her gaze to the room. She already knew it was empty, from the time Paul had opened it. It was windowless, empty, and very small. Not for the first time, she wondered what it was for. The large smudges on both walls caught her eye. Squinting, she peered at one. The stain spanned most of the wall, several shades darker than the unpainted concrete. Belinda placed her hands on it and immediately recoiled. It had felt disgusting under her palms, its raised surface rough and dry. What had been smeared on these walls? The question was added to her long list about this place. As if to reply, a harsh and loud grating sound
Draven sat in the back of his SUV, the aura around him likable to a stormy night in the middle of an ocean. He was waiting, and he hated it. The longer his subordinates took to report back to him, the more restless he grew. His body vibrated with barely contained power, his gaze darker than the moonless sky. A moment later, his phone vibrated in his pocket and his expression never changing, he pulled it out. He swiped the screen, picking the call, and put the phone to his ear. "We've located Miss Knight, my lord." A deep voice droned into his ear an instant later. Draven listened to the address that came next, one he wasn't familiar with, then tilting his head towards his driver, repeated it. "How long is it from here?" The man behind the wheel hastily imputed the location into the car's GPS, and was provided with an answer soon after. "30 minutes, my lord. It's just on the outskirts of the city." Armed with information, Draven resumed the conversation with the one on the ph
Belinda's blacked-out mind gave way to consciousness, and the first thing she became aware of was the merciless throbbing In her forehead. Her entire body ached, as though her nerves were fighting a battle against her—and winning. Instinctively, she tried to find a position that was not so uncomfortable, but she felt like a log—too heavy and stiff to move. She realized then that despite her eyes being open, all she could see was pitch black. Her guess was that she was blindfolded, judging by the slight pressure around the diameter of her head, but she couldn't be sure. When she attempted to lower her hands to check, however, she met resistance. Without sight or mobility, Belinda had only intuition to use to assess her situation. She deduced that she was being pinned to a wall, both her hands held high above her head with handcuffs. Her bottom sat on a cold concrete floor, the dew on the surface seeping into her shorts and soaking it. She was alone, as far as she could tell, and in a
Draven never locked his doors, because every living being in the building knew to never disturb him without being summoned first. The only exclusion was his Beta, who he'd grown quite fond of over the decades. That privilege did not yet extend to his Beta's son and successor. The boy knew that, yet he walked through the front doors of the penthouse uninvited. And what was worse, he'd brought company. Dropping all he was doing, Draven leaned back into his chair, waiting for the trio to arrive. They found him soon enough, halting in front of his office's door. A soft knock sounded a second later, but the show of courtesy did little to lighten his mood. "May we come in, my lord?" Marcus' clear voice rang from behind the door. "You seem to have already come to a conclusion on that." The annoyance wasn't lost in Draven's reply. It should have been to scare them off, to give them the hint that he was not in the mood to entertain any guests. Yet, the wood swung open, ushering thr
Derek returned home well into the night, way past the customary 5 pm. He was newly discovering that a CEO working hard to revive his company was no easy job, and it often left him drained after a long day. Tonight, he heaved a sigh as he removed his suit blazer and pulled off his tie. As he stepped deeper into his apartment, however, he realized that his housemate's scent was way too faint, meaning she wasn't home. That made Derek frown, especially as to how late the hour was. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, absentmindedly strolling into his kitchen as he prepared to call her. That was when his eyes caught a piece of paper pinned onto his counter by a pan. He instinctively picked it up and went through it. “... wish for my own privacy...would appreciate if you respect my wishes.”Anger coursed through Derek at the words in the note. Like hell Belinda had moved out because she wanted “privacy”! She was simply locking him out again. Damn it, she hadn't even had the guts to
After closing the door behind her, Belinda gazed ahead at the room she would now be staying in till further notice. It wasn't the most luxurious quarters, but that was the thing about second-rate hotels—they were just below perfect and affordable.Dragging her luggage along, she advanced deeper into the room. She randomly deposited her bags on the floor and moved onto the bed. The soft mattress jerked as she plopped her bottom onto it, her mind too far gone to notice the bounce. Absentmindedly, she picked up the remote and switched on a channel. Although she gazed at the screen, she was not watching the TV program playing. She was thinking about too many things at once. Slipping out of Derek's apartment had been easy. As the other went to work early in the morning and came back late in the evening, she'd been able to pack her bags and leave without him realizing. She wasn't exactly running away. She'd left a piece of paper on the counter with her new address, which also specified the