The night was quiet in Sarai’s room, the only sound the soft rustle of the rain outside, the patter of droplets against the windowpane. She sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the worn fabric, lost in thought.
The moment with Hugo on the training grounds kept replaying in her mind—his hand on her cheek, the tenderness in his touch that had melted the icy distance between them. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes. His warmth had seeped into her skin, into her soul, and for the first time in weeks, Sarai allowed herself to feel the weight of what had been growing between them for so long.
The love she felt for him was not just because of the bond they shared, the connection woven between them by fate. It was more than that. It was the way he looked at her now, with something more than the protective instinct he had carried for so long. There was admiration in his gaze, a recognition of the strength she was showing in
The note came just as Sarai was settling into the small cabin she had been borrowing near the edge of the Ocean Crest territory. The Omega wolf who delivered it lingered at the doorway, his eyes lowered in deference. Sarai unfolded the parchment, her fingers trembling slightly as she read the words written in Hugo’s bold, unmistakable handwriting:Meet me in the forest, in the clearing. Tonight.No signature, no further explanation—Hugo’s style, terse and commanding. Yet the note was enough to send a thrill through her. She didn’t need details to understand the significance. Tonight was the night.The moon hung high, silver and watchful, casting its soft light through the thick canopy of the forest. The air was crisp, laden with the scent of pine, earth, and a faint, electrifying charge—as if the night itself held its breath in anticipation.Hugo stood at the edge of the clearing, his imposing figure backlit by the m
The morning after the marking, the world felt different. The soft glow of morning filtered through the open flaps of the tent, casting golden hues over the forest clearing. Sarai lay beneath the thick sheets on the mattress, the cool air of the woods contrasting against the warmth of Hugo’s mark still tingling on her skin. The air was crisper, the sounds sharper—everything around Sarai pulsed with a new awareness. She lay in bed, the faint warmth of Hugo’s mark still tingling against her skin. Tracing her fingers over the delicate crescent moon now etched onto her shoulder, she felt a strange comfort settle within her. She was no longer just an outsider, no longer just a human amongst wolves. She belonged—to him, to this pack, to this life.Yet as much as the mark had bound them together, the weight of everything else still lingered between them. The loss of Ryker, the growing threat of Malrik, the unspoken fears neither of them had yet voiced. And Hug
Hugo watched from the shadows of the training grounds, his sea-green eyes locked onto Sarai as she moved across the sparring ring. The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues over the field, highlighting the sweat glistening on her skin as she trained. He had seen her stumble, fall, and bleed, yet every time, she rose again—stronger, more determined. Each time she hit the ground, a primal urge clawed at him to step in, to shield her from the blows, to make sure she never had to endure this pain. But he fought it. This was her fight, her journey. And she was proving, day by day, that she didn’t need saving—she was learning how to save herself.For weeks, she had pushed herself harder than he ever thought possible. At first, he had doubted whether she could truly handle the brutal world she had chosen to step into. But she had proven him wrong. She had proven everyone wrong.Sarai dodged a strike from Garrick, her feet light, her movements sharper
Hugo’s mind raced, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Someone had betrayed them. There was no other explanation for how Malrik’s forces had known about the messengers. The enemy had been prepared, waiting for them beyond the borders. Someone within Ocean Crest had fed them that information.His sea-green eyes burned with fury as he paced the length of his study, his thoughts spiraling. Who could it be? A pack member? A scout? Someone close to the council? He hated to doubt his own people, but the breach of trust had cost them dearly. Their enemies were already moving, and they had barely begun rallying their allies.He slammed his fist onto the wooden desk, the sound echoing through the room. They had to act fast, and they had to find the traitor before more lives were lost.Riders were sent out before the dawn, swift wolves carrying sealed messages to every allied pack across the region. Their mission was urgent, their paths dangerous. The fat
CopyrightThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to any person/s living or dead or event is purely coincidental.All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or any means, including photocopying or recording without written permission by the author except for the use of quotations in book reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.Cover Photo: For more on S. BharuthInstagram: @s. bharuth_writes_official© S.Bharuth 2019
Welcome to Rockshore Bay, a picturesque coastal city cradled by jagged cliffs and the restless expanse of the ocean. Its cobblestone streets wind between quaint storefronts and pastel cottages, the salty tang of the sea mingling with the scent of wildflowers carried on the breeze. Every morning, the soft hum of the waves is joined by the warm aroma of freshly baked bread from the corner bakery, and the townsfolk greet one another with easy smiles. To an outsider, Rockshore Bay seems like a haven—a place untouched by the chaos of the outside world. But beneath this serene facade, the city guards its secrets.Here, the ordinary and the extraordinary coexist in a delicate balance. Flickering streetlights reveal fleeting shadows that don’t belong, and the whispers of the waves carry more than the call of the ocean. This is a place where ancient powers stir, where the supernatural thrives in the cracks between the mundane. Rockshore Bay is not what it seems. Beneath its quiet charm lies a b
Hugo ran through the dense forest, the moonlight casting silver shadows on the ground and painting the foliage in shades of grey. The sharp scent of pine filled his lungs with each ragged breath, mingling with the coppery tang of his own blood. Branches clawed at his arms like skeletal fingers, leaving thin, stinging scratches, and the damp earth squelched beneath his pounding footsteps. The distant hoot of an owl cut through the stillness, an eerie reminder of how alive the forest was, even in the dead of night. Fear twisted in his chest, tightening like a vice, as every nerve in his body screamed at him to keep running. Behind him, the bushes rustled, though the night was unnervingly still. He turned, heart pounding, to see a pair of glowing red eyes watching him from the darkness.A low growl echoed, freezing him in place. The sound was guttural, primal, resonating deep within the hollow of his chest. He tried to run, but his legs felt like lead, as though the earth itself conspired
Across the city, Sarai Carter’s morning began with the shrill ring of her phone. The sound pierced the quiet stillness of her room, jarring her awake from a restless sleep. She blinked up at the ceiling, the pale light filtering through her curtains casting faint geometric patterns on the walls. For a moment, she lay still, her body heavy with exhaustion, her mind clouded by fatigue and the weight of everything she had endured.The phone rang again, sharper this time, breaking through her haze. With a heavy sigh, she reached for it, her hand fumbling on the cluttered nightstand. Her fingers brushed past an empty glass, a crumpled receipt, and finally closed around the device. “Hello?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.Even before she heard the slurred words on the other end, her chest tightened with dread. She knew who it was. Bruce. His voice, dripping with contempt and the familiar edge of inebriation, sent a wave of cold nausea through her. Her grip on the phone faltered slig
Hugo’s mind raced, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Someone had betrayed them. There was no other explanation for how Malrik’s forces had known about the messengers. The enemy had been prepared, waiting for them beyond the borders. Someone within Ocean Crest had fed them that information.His sea-green eyes burned with fury as he paced the length of his study, his thoughts spiraling. Who could it be? A pack member? A scout? Someone close to the council? He hated to doubt his own people, but the breach of trust had cost them dearly. Their enemies were already moving, and they had barely begun rallying their allies.He slammed his fist onto the wooden desk, the sound echoing through the room. They had to act fast, and they had to find the traitor before more lives were lost.Riders were sent out before the dawn, swift wolves carrying sealed messages to every allied pack across the region. Their mission was urgent, their paths dangerous. The fat
Hugo watched from the shadows of the training grounds, his sea-green eyes locked onto Sarai as she moved across the sparring ring. The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues over the field, highlighting the sweat glistening on her skin as she trained. He had seen her stumble, fall, and bleed, yet every time, she rose again—stronger, more determined. Each time she hit the ground, a primal urge clawed at him to step in, to shield her from the blows, to make sure she never had to endure this pain. But he fought it. This was her fight, her journey. And she was proving, day by day, that she didn’t need saving—she was learning how to save herself.For weeks, she had pushed herself harder than he ever thought possible. At first, he had doubted whether she could truly handle the brutal world she had chosen to step into. But she had proven him wrong. She had proven everyone wrong.Sarai dodged a strike from Garrick, her feet light, her movements sharper
The morning after the marking, the world felt different. The soft glow of morning filtered through the open flaps of the tent, casting golden hues over the forest clearing. Sarai lay beneath the thick sheets on the mattress, the cool air of the woods contrasting against the warmth of Hugo’s mark still tingling on her skin. The air was crisper, the sounds sharper—everything around Sarai pulsed with a new awareness. She lay in bed, the faint warmth of Hugo’s mark still tingling against her skin. Tracing her fingers over the delicate crescent moon now etched onto her shoulder, she felt a strange comfort settle within her. She was no longer just an outsider, no longer just a human amongst wolves. She belonged—to him, to this pack, to this life.Yet as much as the mark had bound them together, the weight of everything else still lingered between them. The loss of Ryker, the growing threat of Malrik, the unspoken fears neither of them had yet voiced. And Hug
The note came just as Sarai was settling into the small cabin she had been borrowing near the edge of the Ocean Crest territory. The Omega wolf who delivered it lingered at the doorway, his eyes lowered in deference. Sarai unfolded the parchment, her fingers trembling slightly as she read the words written in Hugo’s bold, unmistakable handwriting:Meet me in the forest, in the clearing. Tonight.No signature, no further explanation—Hugo’s style, terse and commanding. Yet the note was enough to send a thrill through her. She didn’t need details to understand the significance. Tonight was the night.The moon hung high, silver and watchful, casting its soft light through the thick canopy of the forest. The air was crisp, laden with the scent of pine, earth, and a faint, electrifying charge—as if the night itself held its breath in anticipation.Hugo stood at the edge of the clearing, his imposing figure backlit by the m
The night was quiet in Sarai’s room, the only sound the soft rustle of the rain outside, the patter of droplets against the windowpane. She sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the worn fabric, lost in thought.The moment with Hugo on the training grounds kept replaying in her mind—his hand on her cheek, the tenderness in his touch that had melted the icy distance between them. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes. His warmth had seeped into her skin, into her soul, and for the first time in weeks, Sarai allowed herself to feel the weight of what had been growing between them for so long.The love she felt for him was not just because of the bond they shared, the connection woven between them by fate. It was more than that. It was the way he looked at her now, with something more than the protective instinct he had carried for so long. There was admiration in his gaze, a recognition of the strength she was showing in
The tension between them had been building for weeks—silent, unspoken, but undeniable. Sarai could feel it every time she entered a room, every time their gazes met and then quickly darted away. It was as if the loss of Ryker had carved a chasm between them, one neither of them knew how to cross.Sarai stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the wolves spar. Their movements were fluid, graceful, powerful. She had always admired them from a distance, knowing her place—knowing she was just a human, unable to ever truly belong to the pack. But that had changed, hadn’t it? The war was coming, and as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t sit on the sidelines any longer. The thought of being useless, of being a burden, was becoming unbearable.“Hugo,” she called out, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. He turned, his eyes darkened with a mixture of grief and guilt. She could see the hesitation in his stance b
The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the earth into a sodden, muddy expanse. The pack grounds were eerily quiet, save for the occasional roll of thunder that echoed across the skies. The air was heavy with grief, the kind that seeped into every corner of Ocean Crest’s territory. The loss of so many pack members weighed heavily on everyone, but none more so than Hugo.He stood in the center of the pack’s clearing, drenched from the rain, his sea-green eyes dark with sorrow. Around him, the wolves gathered, their heads bowed, their spirits broken. The howls of mourning pierced the air, a haunting symphony of shared pain and loss. Each cry carried the weight of a name, a memory, a life taken too soon.Hugo’s shoulders sagged under the burden of leadership, the responsibility of protecting the family that looked to him for strength. Ryker’s death was a wound that cut deeper than any physical injury. He could still see it—his loyal frien
Sarai pressed herself into the farthest corner of the back room, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them. The commotion outside was deafening—the snarls, the crashing of furniture, and the sickening sound of breaking glass filled the air, each noise sending a fresh wave of terror through her. Her heart pounded erratically, her breaths shallow and quick as if she couldn’t get enough air.The growls outside grew louder, more vicious, and with each one, her sense of vulnerability deepened. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, but the act brought little comfort. "Why can’t I do anything?" she whispered to herself, the words trembling on her lips. She felt small, powerless—a fragile human surrounded by forces she couldn’t hope to match. Her eyes darted to the locked door, the barrier between her and the chaos feeling both too thin and suffocatingly thick at the same time.Her thoughts turned to
The bakery was a blur of snarls, claws, and fangs as Bruce and Ryker fought to the death, their primal instincts driving them into a vicious and unrelenting battle. The small space seemed to shrink under the weight of their ferocity, the clash of their massive forms shaking the very walls. Display cases shattered as Bruce’s powerful swipe sent shards of glass flying across the room. Chairs splintered and tables crashed to the ground under the weight of their blows, the destruction a chaotic testament to their raw power.Bruce fought with the singular goal to destroy and kill, his claws tearing through the air with relentless malice. Ryker countered, every strike driven by a desperate need to protect, his movements precise yet fierce. Each blow they exchanged left the bakery further ravaged, the once-cozy shop now a battleground stained with blood and chaos.Bruce’s savage attacks bore the unmistakable signature of Malrik’s dark influence. His light br