Sweet Linda... Belinda's fingers flew to her face, and she confirmed the golden mask was still in place. How had he recognized her, then? She asked herself. More importantly, how did he know her name? She was certain she'd never set eyes on him before. It had to be damn near impossible to forget someone that unsettling, wasn't it? But it seemed he knew her. Her eyes narrowing, she fixed the mysterious man in the navy blue suit with an icy stare. "You know me." It was more of a statement than a question, and it made the man's smile broaden. "That flimsy disguise could never fool me. I could recognize you anywhere, dear. And anytime." His voice dropped an octave at the last word, giving it meaning, a meaning Belinda didn't understand. "I don't know you." She stated bluntly. "I suppose that was the agreement." Flattening one hand over his chest and fisting the other at his back, the man gave her a mock bow. "Let me introduce myself again. I am Maddox Hawkmore, at you
At first, Belinda was too stunned to react. Derek's lips molded against hers, the soft flesh drawing surprising sensations from her. Nerves danced all around her skin, the tingles traveling to the tips of her breasts and the forbidden place between her legs. She felt her nipples harden, poking at the thin silk of her dress, and her eyes grew wide. Damn it all! At long last, Belinda closed her eyes, threw her arms around Derek's neck, and gave herself to the kiss. Her submission pumped confidence into his actions, a hand sliding to her waist as he pressed harder into the kiss. He kissed her firmly, but unsurely, as though he was holding a piece of himself back. The nonaggressive way he handled her was so different from what she had gotten accustomed to this past few months, that it caused her to sigh. The low exhale set flames to his blood, and he pushed his tongue between her parted lips to find her own. She was so sweet, Derek reveled in the taste of her. How had he not noticed ho
Draven heard the footsteps approach long before he heard the knock. He didn't turn as the door swung open, instead focusing on unbuttoning the front of his white cotton shirt. He didn't need to, because even under the thick floral perfume, he could smell the scent of the woman at the doorway. Belinda Knight stood with her arms folded, her hips leaning on the doorpost. She looked ethereal in her seductive royal blue nightwear, her silky hair left to fall about her shoulders, its black shade gleaming in the moonlight. Draven heard her breath hitch as he turned to her, saw her pupils dilate despite the darkness. She gazed hungrily at the patch of bare chest she could see through his parted shirt, her eyes then quickly running down his muscular form. He too, looked her over. The flimsy excuse of a gown she was wearing loosely draped over her curves, leaving little to the imagination. It exposed most of her thighs and dipped at the neckline so her breasts were barely covered. As the dress
What had she done? Belinda's arm remained suspended in the air, as though it was too afraid to come down. The skin of her palm stung, undeniable proof that she had indeed hit the Lycan. She reeled from the thought. She, a low-ranking omega, had hit a man feared by alphas. Belinda could see that he hadn't moved since she'd slapped him, like he too couldn't believe what she'd just done. If only he knew—she was far more shocked than he was. At that moment, a part of her was screaming for her to apologize, to plead that she'd acted rashly and hadn't known what she was doing. The greater part—the part of her that was still possessed by nerve-numbing anger—refused to do that. "I really don't get you." Belinda glared up at Draven with every bit of venom she felt. "You seem to hate me. No," She corrected herself. "you definitely hate me. Yet, you keep me close. Why? You can have any woman on earth, so why choose me? Do you really feel that I deserve to be treated the way you treat me? W
Sparks flew the instant the two lips touched. Draven devoured her hungrily, his tongue pushing her lips apart to dive into her mouth. Fire lit her nerve endings as they kissed, their mutual passion burning everything else away. Belinda straddled him on the chair, each of her legs gripping his thighs. Her arms went up his shoulders, crossing at the back of his neck as she pressed her breast to him. Instinctively, her hips rocked against his erection, creating the friction she desired. Her bare nipple grazed against his chest as she moved, drawing a strangled moan from her. Draven had never been so hard before. It was as though every blood cell in his body had pooled at his groin. His erection strained against his trousers, thick and literally painful. His mind roared with desire for his mistress, the beautiful woman who had fallen upon him by chance. Every fiber of his being wanted to be inside her, to bury himself deep within her. A strong possessiveness gripped him then. He wanted t
Paul was in his office when his secretary came rushing in, his eyes wide and his voice shaky. "Sir, we have a situation." Raising his head from the documents he'd been proofreading, the alpha of the Chicago Pack raised an annoyed eyebrow at the skinny young man. "I have people I pay to handle these ‘situations’." He stated the obvious. "This one is a bit out of hand, sir." The man insisted. The terror in the boy's demeanor and the way his entire body shook was what got Paul's attention. He dropped everything he was doing and exited from behind his desk. As he followed behind his secretary, he wished he hadn't hired someone so young, so inexperienced, and so easily flustered, for such a crucial office as his secretary. However, the boy was the son of an important member of his pack, and employing him had been a favor to his father. The things an alpha did for the sake of his pack. On arriving at the ground floor of the Knights & Co. company building, Paul quickly saw what
Her phone rang, and Belinda dropped her fork and knife to check who was calling. She was at the restaurant at the Lycan's building, enjoying a meal alone because she needed the peace and quiet. Unfortunately, it was being disturbed. Her eyes on the screen, she lifted an eyebrow at the caller ID. "Hello, Derek." Belinda put the device to her ear. After their less-than-amicable parting at the gala, she'd half expected to not get a call from her ex-mate for a while. Turned out she'd underestimated his maturity. But then again, they had important business together, business more important than any petty quarrel they had. "Belinda." Derek's collected voice came from the other end of the line. "What are you doing right now?" He seemed to ask casually. "Nothing." She briefly glanced down at her almost empty plate. "Just having lunch." "With who?" The reason behind his query wasn't missed, and it made Belinda stiffen, her fingers clutching her phone tighter. Derek must hav
"Maddox Hawkmore. Who is he?" Georgina felt the color drain from her cheeks, her complexion dropping several shades. Every muscle in her body went taut, straining as her pupils dilated and her parted lips trembled. Belinda's eyebrows shot up at the intense response her mother had to the mention of a mere name. She looked terrified, and that brought to question why. A second later though, Georgina Knight had re-coordinated herself, but it was too late. Belinda had clearly caught her reaction. "You do know him," Belinda stated what she already knew was true. "Who is he?"Georgina had clearly heard Belinda, but she had questions of her own. Her lips thinning, she stared attentively at her daughter. "How do you know that name?" Belinda crossed her arms over her chest. "I asked first. Shouldn't you answer before interrogating me?"Leaning from her seat, Georgina clamped a fist around Belinda's wrist. "Answer me!" Her loud voice was earnest. "How do you know that name?" The tigh
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