Belinda gaped as several attendants rolled racks and racks of dresses into the room, each one more glamorous than the last. The manager apparently took his job seriously, for his devotion was evident as he barked orders at the much younger and jumpier employees. When Belinda had said she wanted to go shopping, she hadn't meant like this. While she enjoyed buying fashion items, she was still sane about it. These people were not. In a space of minutes, the large room exclusive to the most VIP of clients, was filled. Every form of clothes, shoes, and accessories littered every possible surface, so much that she wondered if the entire store had been emptied for her. Her mad stylist had other concerns, however. Haughtily snapping his fingers, the manager summoned two of his attendants. "Sisi! Lulu! Bring the Versace numbers 28 and 43 over here." Nearly, Belinda laughed at all the sass the man was displaying, her hand covering her smiling lips. She failed to hold in a chuckle at the emp
Inserting the key into the keyhole, the police officer unlocked the heavy metal door to the cell. The door swung open with a loud creak, but he chose to stay outside to guard the entrance, while the visitor walked right in. On entering the small room, Derek looked around. The cell was said to be the best in the prison, yet it was quite the dump. Paul sat on the hard narrow bed, facing the small barred window for the bit of light it let through. He was trimming his beards with the shaving stick he apparently wasn't allowed to keep, but was given anyway because he was a favored inmate, a small mirror in hand. "Good afternoon, sir." Derek bowed at his waist. "I brought the suit you asked for." "I see you've finally come to see him." Paul didn't turn around, therefore looking ominous as he spoke. The result was Derek swallowing heavily. He'd known his boss was bitter when he'd received a call from the lawyer, Voss, delivering the errand to fetch his best suit for this day. The
They heard him as he came down the hallway, his shoes an angry sound on the tiled floor. Instinctively, the members of the Knights & Co. managerial board sat up straighter in their seats, tidying up their outfits and arranging the documents on the large rectangular table. The double doors to the board room burst open, and Paul Knight walked in, trailed by his beta. They could feel the malevolence radiating from him, almost as clearly as the chill air of the air conditioner itself. He had come for blood, and they knew it. All smartly standing, they simultaneously bowed at their waist. "Welcome, Alpha Paul!" Paul sat at the head of the meeting table, with Derek taking the seat at his right. His features hard, he took a look around at his directors. They squirmed under his gaze, all avoiding eye contact. Once he'd had his fill of studying the guilty face before him, he relaxed into his chair, his fist supporting his head. "James." He called, and the man bearing the name jerked.
Lexie sat on the bed, gazing down as her friend lay beside her, unconscious and helpless, with the duvet pulled up to her shoulders. Belinda's pale and flawless skin had always been one of her striking features, but her current pallor was all wrong. Her skin appeared pasty and damp, her lips had lost their vibrant reddish color, and bags had formed under her eyes. She looked sick. Worry curled Lexie's heart and moved up to sting her eyes. Belinda looked like she was in a lot of pain. The sound of the door creaking distracted Lexie. Wiping the tears off her cheeks, she sniffed in whatever one still threatened to fall, before turning to check who was coming in. Luisa stepped into the bedroom, her gaze first running over the woman lying on the bed, before raising to the woman sitting at her side. Both were a pitiable sight, so she gave the conscious a small smile, hoping the gesture did anything to reassure her. "How is she?" Luisa's voice was low and gentle as closed the door softl
At first, when Belinda woke up, she was confused. Clutching the duvet to her chest, she sat up on the bed, taking a look around at her surroundings. It took a while for her to recognize the luxurious furniture, the painting on the wall, and the curtains. However, the familiarity of her bedroom didn't give her any comfort. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Belinda relived the nightmare she'd endured while unconscious. Over and over again, she'd dreamt of the cottage in the woods, and the orchard where she and her brother had played in as children. They'd both been in their werewolves forms, and that was what perplexed Belinda. It was common for werewolves at that age to have awakened their wolves, but she and Baron were omegas doomed to have dormant wolves. They'd never so much as communicated with the beast inside them. Belinda wondered then if her vision had only been a figment of her imagination. Had her mind been playing tricks on her again, like the time she'd hallucinated ab
Draven's phone rang, and he raised his hand to silence the men sitting before him. They were all dons of the underworld, but they knew to keep quiet when the man in the tailored black suit told them to keep quiet. Usually, no one bothered the Lycan on these kinds of trips, but he'd specifically ordered Marcus to contact him the instant news developed on Belinda's condition. Therefore, when he saw it was his Beta-in-line calling, he raised the phone to his ear. "Is she awake?" It was the first thing he asked, because that was the only thing he wanted to know. "Yes," Marcus' voice came through the phone. "but I can't be sure. She's missing, my lord." Sharp shock coursed through Draven, but he effortlessly maintained his composure. The only indication that his mind was spinning was the darkening of his gaze. "What do you mean missing?" The ears across the table were piqued at the word ‘missing’, the dons' instinctive nosiness making them wonder what the topic over the phone w
The aroma of cooking chicken woke Belinda. Her eyes fluttered open, and she took a look around what appeared to be the insides of a small house. She registered the small roundscreen television on the short wooden cupboard, the plain shelves with the scanty books, the old table and chair dining set positioned near the window. The place might not have been very posh, but it was clean and looked extremely comfortable. It looked like a home. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, warming the room. Above it, several framed photos of what appeared to be a happy family were set on the mantle. Belinda squinted to try and make out the faces of those in them, but she was distracted by the sound of footsteps nearby. A woman entered the living room, a steaming bowl in hand. She was undoubtedly the same one Belinda had met in the woods. She looked to be in her 40s, her blond hair tied in a messy bun over her head. "I thought you'd be out for longer." The woman remarked on seeing the girl sh
Belinda was still conscious, but her whole world seemed to collapse before her eyes. The organs in her chest felt like they were constricting, as it was getting hard to breathe, causing her breath to come out in short gasps. "No. No. No. No." Belinda found herself chanting. Her mind refused to wrap around the revelation she'd just received, her head shaking vehemently in denial. No, it can't be—the words screamed in her head. She hadn't searched relentlessly for answers, she hadn't followed the clues she'd so painfully uncovered here, to be told she was a bastard of the despicable Sorcerer Clan. Tilly observed the young woman who was obviously unhappy to learn of her true ancestry. She felt pity for the poor girl. Only God knew what she'd had to endure the many years that she'd been away. She(Tilly) could only imagine that the news of her past wasn't particularly easy to swallow. "As time passed," Tilly continued over Belinda's chants, hoping her soothing tone would help to c
Belinda was still conscious, but her whole world seemed to collapse before her eyes. The organs in her chest felt like they were constricting, as it was getting hard to breathe, causing her breath to come out in short gasps. "No. No. No. No." Belinda found herself chanting. Her mind refused to wrap around the revelation she'd just received, her head shaking vehemently in denial. No, it can't be—the words screamed in her head. She hadn't searched relentlessly for answers, she hadn't followed the clues she'd so painfully uncovered here, to be told she was a bastard of the despicable Sorcerer Clan. Tilly observed the young woman who was obviously unhappy to learn of her true ancestry. She felt pity for the poor girl. Only God knew what she'd had to endure the many years that she'd been away. She(Tilly) could only imagine that the news of her past wasn't particularly easy to swallow. "As time passed," Tilly continued over Belinda's chants, hoping her soothing tone would help to c
The aroma of cooking chicken woke Belinda. Her eyes fluttered open, and she took a look around what appeared to be the insides of a small house. She registered the small roundscreen television on the short wooden cupboard, the plain shelves with the scanty books, the old table and chair dining set positioned near the window. The place might not have been very posh, but it was clean and looked extremely comfortable. It looked like a home. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, warming the room. Above it, several framed photos of what appeared to be a happy family were set on the mantle. Belinda squinted to try and make out the faces of those in them, but she was distracted by the sound of footsteps nearby. A woman entered the living room, a steaming bowl in hand. She was undoubtedly the same one Belinda had met in the woods. She looked to be in her 40s, her blond hair tied in a messy bun over her head. "I thought you'd be out for longer." The woman remarked on seeing the girl sh
Draven's phone rang, and he raised his hand to silence the men sitting before him. They were all dons of the underworld, but they knew to keep quiet when the man in the tailored black suit told them to keep quiet. Usually, no one bothered the Lycan on these kinds of trips, but he'd specifically ordered Marcus to contact him the instant news developed on Belinda's condition. Therefore, when he saw it was his Beta-in-line calling, he raised the phone to his ear. "Is she awake?" It was the first thing he asked, because that was the only thing he wanted to know. "Yes," Marcus' voice came through the phone. "but I can't be sure. She's missing, my lord." Sharp shock coursed through Draven, but he effortlessly maintained his composure. The only indication that his mind was spinning was the darkening of his gaze. "What do you mean missing?" The ears across the table were piqued at the word ‘missing’, the dons' instinctive nosiness making them wonder what the topic over the phone w
At first, when Belinda woke up, she was confused. Clutching the duvet to her chest, she sat up on the bed, taking a look around at her surroundings. It took a while for her to recognize the luxurious furniture, the painting on the wall, and the curtains. However, the familiarity of her bedroom didn't give her any comfort. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Belinda relived the nightmare she'd endured while unconscious. Over and over again, she'd dreamt of the cottage in the woods, and the orchard where she and her brother had played in as children. They'd both been in their werewolves forms, and that was what perplexed Belinda. It was common for werewolves at that age to have awakened their wolves, but she and Baron were omegas doomed to have dormant wolves. They'd never so much as communicated with the beast inside them. Belinda wondered then if her vision had only been a figment of her imagination. Had her mind been playing tricks on her again, like the time she'd hallucinated ab
Lexie sat on the bed, gazing down as her friend lay beside her, unconscious and helpless, with the duvet pulled up to her shoulders. Belinda's pale and flawless skin had always been one of her striking features, but her current pallor was all wrong. Her skin appeared pasty and damp, her lips had lost their vibrant reddish color, and bags had formed under her eyes. She looked sick. Worry curled Lexie's heart and moved up to sting her eyes. Belinda looked like she was in a lot of pain. The sound of the door creaking distracted Lexie. Wiping the tears off her cheeks, she sniffed in whatever one still threatened to fall, before turning to check who was coming in. Luisa stepped into the bedroom, her gaze first running over the woman lying on the bed, before raising to the woman sitting at her side. Both were a pitiable sight, so she gave the conscious a small smile, hoping the gesture did anything to reassure her. "How is she?" Luisa's voice was low and gentle as closed the door softl
They heard him as he came down the hallway, his shoes an angry sound on the tiled floor. Instinctively, the members of the Knights & Co. managerial board sat up straighter in their seats, tidying up their outfits and arranging the documents on the large rectangular table. The double doors to the board room burst open, and Paul Knight walked in, trailed by his beta. They could feel the malevolence radiating from him, almost as clearly as the chill air of the air conditioner itself. He had come for blood, and they knew it. All smartly standing, they simultaneously bowed at their waist. "Welcome, Alpha Paul!" Paul sat at the head of the meeting table, with Derek taking the seat at his right. His features hard, he took a look around at his directors. They squirmed under his gaze, all avoiding eye contact. Once he'd had his fill of studying the guilty face before him, he relaxed into his chair, his fist supporting his head. "James." He called, and the man bearing the name jerked.
Inserting the key into the keyhole, the police officer unlocked the heavy metal door to the cell. The door swung open with a loud creak, but he chose to stay outside to guard the entrance, while the visitor walked right in. On entering the small room, Derek looked around. The cell was said to be the best in the prison, yet it was quite the dump. Paul sat on the hard narrow bed, facing the small barred window for the bit of light it let through. He was trimming his beards with the shaving stick he apparently wasn't allowed to keep, but was given anyway because he was a favored inmate, a small mirror in hand. "Good afternoon, sir." Derek bowed at his waist. "I brought the suit you asked for." "I see you've finally come to see him." Paul didn't turn around, therefore looking ominous as he spoke. The result was Derek swallowing heavily. He'd known his boss was bitter when he'd received a call from the lawyer, Voss, delivering the errand to fetch his best suit for this day. The
Belinda gaped as several attendants rolled racks and racks of dresses into the room, each one more glamorous than the last. The manager apparently took his job seriously, for his devotion was evident as he barked orders at the much younger and jumpier employees. When Belinda had said she wanted to go shopping, she hadn't meant like this. While she enjoyed buying fashion items, she was still sane about it. These people were not. In a space of minutes, the large room exclusive to the most VIP of clients, was filled. Every form of clothes, shoes, and accessories littered every possible surface, so much that she wondered if the entire store had been emptied for her. Her mad stylist had other concerns, however. Haughtily snapping his fingers, the manager summoned two of his attendants. "Sisi! Lulu! Bring the Versace numbers 28 and 43 over here." Nearly, Belinda laughed at all the sass the man was displaying, her hand covering her smiling lips. She failed to hold in a chuckle at the emp
Belinda didn't wear back her panties. In truth, she had no idea where they were. Deciding she could search for them later, she left for her bedroom, where she removed whatever piece of clothing she still had on and entered the shower. It wasn't that she had a problem with the scent of sex on her—she liked it even—but it wasn't something she wanted people to smell just by being near her. After the quick bath, she went ahead to get decent, putting on a chic pink button gown. She decided she would forgo makeup, but she did give herself a final check-up in front of the mirror. The Lycan was waiting for her in the living room, his posture relaxed as he went through his phone. He looked up from the device as she walked in, his gaze then running down her slender form. The appreciative look he gave her proved he liked what he saw. "Are you wearing underwear?" Draven asked, his deep baritone voice husky. Belinda realized that, once again, she was not wearing panties. She'd forgotten to