BLAISE I awoke, entangled in the sheets, with sunlight streaming through the window and the melodious morning chorus of birds outside. Lila was absent from the bed, but the sound of water splattering in the bathroom suggested her location. Eager to catch up with Ace, my younger brother, who had arrived unexpectedly like a thief on a rampage two nights ago, I extricated myself from the sheets and stretched. We'd had scant time for meaningful interaction since his arrival. I was eager to catch up and hear about his business ventures in Italy. Slipping into my plush slippers, I made my way out of our bedroom. Upon reaching his room, I found Ace impeccably dressed and groomed—a surprising sight, given his typical aversion to mornings. "Hey, brother!" he greeted exuberantly, his grin filled with roguish charm. "Hey, man. You look…" I struggled to find the words to describe his morning glow. "Radiant." We hugged each other. Growing up, Ace had been a
BLAISE I slammed the file shut, frustration building within me like a storm about to break. I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes in an attempt to calm the turmoil inside. However, images of Lila slipping into Ace's car haunted me. A bitter taste coiled at the back of my tongue. Ace was fully aware she was my wife, wasn’t he? It seemed like it was high time for a proper introduction. With a deep, resigned sigh, I reopened the file. "Whatever, I don't care," I muttered under my breath, lying to the uncaring silence of the room, my eyes fixated on the printout before me as though it could offer some distraction, but the words blurred. "Well, maybe I do care. She shouldn't be getting entangled with my own flesh and blood." Outside, the sky grumbled as if in agreement. I rose from my chair, walking over to the window behind me. Dark clouds were gathering ominously, and a storm loomed on the horizon, promising rain—rain that Lila feared. I shook my head. I don’t care.
LILA Dawn's early light crept through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow on Blaise's solemn figure. Fully dressed, he sat in the unwavering quiet, the cold metallic sheen of a handgun nestled in his hands. Panic surged through me, and I scrambled up in bed, scooting away. "What on earth are you doing?" My voice, usually steady, now faltered, betraying a flow of fears, as my thought raced. Had he finally decided to end my life? The very thought chilled my bones. I didn't want to die, not after witnessing the hope I had brought back to our people. Did my actions cast him in a negative light? Should I apologise? Blaise remained silent, inspecting the gun in his hands as if assessing its authenticity, paying no attention to my distress. An apology formed on my lips. "Blaise, please understand. I know I haven't been the best wife or partner." My voice was a whisper of vulnerability. "I should have discussed it with you beforehand, but it was a last-minute decision. Trust me, I
LILA Sasha and I sprinted until my breath threatened to abandon me. As we reached a bustling area, I slowed down and plopped onto the sidewalk, tugging Sasha to a halt beside me. "Please, stop, stop," I panted, "I feel like I might faint." Sasha squatted in front of me, exhaling audibly. "We didn't run that far, and you're panting like a deer." I shot her a reproachful look. "Don't forget I'm human with limited stamina." Playfully, I swatted her arm. "You nearly got me into trouble." Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “But admit it, it was so much fun." She joined me on the pavement, and I couldn't help but agree. I wasn't familiar with this clan, but it clearly surpassed both my own and the vineyard farmers' clans in sophistication. Crescent Hill Pack was undeniably vast, with Blaise's clan reigning as the largest and the pack's capital. Sasha asked, "Can I make it up to you?" I hesitated. "No. I need—" Then, the realisation hit me. I owned a car; we had used it to get
LILA It had been three days since Agatha, and I embarked on the journey of learning how to handle a firearm. Despite my efforts, hitting a target remained an elusive goal, while Agatha's skills improved steadily. The sheer intensity of the gun's thunderous discharge frightened me. Blaise and I hadn't exchanged a single word since that fateful night when he tended to my injuries. Often, he was absent when I awoke, only returning under the cloak of night. He was conspicuously absent from the dining room as well. My only company for meals was Ace. He even supervised our training sessions and never missed an opportunity to offer light-hearted jibes at my lacklustre marksmanship. Warriors and our bodyguards stood by, observing our attempts to hit the targets. "You'll only hit your mark when you're at ease with your weapon," Ace said, stepping in front of us and signalling for us to lower our firearms. A mischievous grin played on his lips as he addressed me, "But how can you hit a target
BLAISE Saturday arrived swiftly, each moment making my heart race with anticipation. The wine was prepared for the market, and elites from across the globe were converging for the launch. I had bolstered security measures, anticipating any threat from Drax or rogue bandits. Every precaution had been taken to ensure tonight proceeded flawlessly, and Sasha's assurance somehow instilled confidence in me. I stepped into the room, bustling with beauticians, eager to assess their progress. This marked our first public appearance, and it was crucial that she exuded readiness, as much as I did. It should be flawless, devoid of even a hint of insincerity. Our interactions needed to be natural yet not overly affectionate, to avoid any impressions of a strained relationship. I had briefed her the previous night, doing my best to put her at ease since werewolves could easily discern emotions in others. I also provided her with responses for those prying into our private lives, aski
LILA The room sweltered when Blaise entered, and now his lips were on mine, stealing my breath away. Throughout the night, I had noticed the way he stared at me, a look in his eyes I couldn't quite decipher. The heat was oppressive, prompting me to slip into the kitchen for a glass of water and a moment to catch my breath while he was engrossed with his companions. However, Blaise followed swiftly, and now his kiss enveloped me, scattering my thoughts and leaving me powerless to resist. After a few heartbeats, he broke the kiss, his intense gaze locked onto mine, his hand tenderly cradling my cheek. I stood frozen, staring at him, my words lost in a sea of shock and confusion. "You did a splendid job tonight," he rasped, in a voice filled with emotion, stirring a longing of leaning into his arms within me. But reason swiftly returned. We weren't supposed to be intimate, and I hadn't given him permission to kiss me. "Apologise," I demanded, my voice barely audible. Confusi
AUTHOR'S P.O.V. Erick carefully carried Agatha from the rooftop, steering clear of the party area to avoid raising any suspicion that might disrupt the festivities. Earlier, he had dealt with the culprits, Joey and his group of friends who had dared to harass Agatha. He had swiftly subdued them and stashed them in the restroom. If they were discovered, they would likely concoct any excuse to hide their foolishness. Certainly, they wouldn't confess to antagonising a Calloway woman at her cousin's party; their fathers wouldn't want any conflicts with Alpha Blaise Calloway. His wrath was feared by all. He guided Agatha into her room, which was adorned with an overwhelmingly girlish pink decor, almost blinding in its brightness. Agatha, still in shock, clung to him until he reassured her that she was safe. After much persuasion, she reluctantly released him, and he granted her some privacy to take a shower. Upon her return, she appeared much improved, and Erick retrieved a first aid kit
BLAISE I burst into the dimly lit room where Richard was tied up around a chair. I had not physically tormented him, but he looked exhausted. I couldn't help but wonder if it was the weight of guilt that had drained him so. It was incomprehensible that Richard, of all people, would become entangled in the web of those seeking to bring about my downfall. But I heeded Lila's counsel and resolved to approach this encounter with the grace of composure and hear him out. I gestured for a chair and signalled the guards to leave us alone. "Keep vigilant watch over Mrs. Pierce and her son," I instructed them, to which they replied in unified affirmation. My focus returned to Richard, who had steadfastly avoided meeting my gaze. Delicately, I retrieved my penknife, its blade shimmering menacingly as I flicked it open. "Listen closely, Richard. I'm giving you a final opportunity for redemption. Should you withhold what I seek, I shall not hesitate to strip your very skin from your
AUTHOR'S P.O.V. Dr Richard concealed himself beneath the inky depths of a black hoodie and robe, his movements quick as he vacated the hotel room. He stood still at the garage, his ears straining for even the faintest of sounds, but all remained eerily silent. His eyes darted thoroughly surveying his surroundings, but no discernible presence lurked nearby. Satisfied, he slipped into his car, ignited the engine, and eased out of the hotel's garage. Meanwhile, within a dimly lit room, two men hunched before their computer screens, their eyes tracking Dr. Richard's car as it exited from the garage. One of them, with a finger pressed to an earpiece, relayed a terse message. "He is on the move." Dr Richard accelerated, his foot heavy on the gas pedal, as the monotonous road stretched endlessly before him, bereft of other vehicles. The moon had chosen to withhold its luminous presence that night, yet his headlights carved a luminous path through the obscurity. An ho
BLAISE In a frenzy, I scoured my office, turning over papers and rifling through drawers in a desperate search for my signet ring. Its absence was a growing concern – the documents I had just approved were sitting on my desk, demanding the ring's unique imprint. The deadline was near; they needed to be submitted by tomorrow morning. Finding nothing, I ventured into our bedroom, combing through every corner with equal fervour. Yet, the ring remained elusive. I stood, defeated, in the middle of the room, eyes closed, straining my memory for the last time I had used it. But my thoughts were a tangled mess, muddled by the whirlwind of recent events. Lila's sudden interest in Aurora's family had left me puzzled. I had secretly set a trap for Drax, a plan I had shared with no one, not even Lila. The recent revelation about Hart potentially being the elusive 'Ghost'. further fuelled my frustration. Why would he target me? I bore no responsibility for his sister's tragic death, and
AUTHOR'S P.OV. In the stillness of the night, Amanda's sleep was abruptly interrupted by the insistent buzzing of her phone. Groggily lifting her head, she glanced at the glowing screen with an annoyed sigh, deciding to ignore the call and nestling back into her pillow. "I would answer if I were you," a deep, male voice resonated through the room. At first, the intrusion didn't fully register in Amanda's sleep-fogged brain, her drowsy state clouded her comprehension. She groaned, turning over to bury her face in her pillow, her desire for rest overpowering her curiosity. Then, the startling reality hit her like a cold wave: she was supposed to be alone. Her eyes flew open, her brow furrowing in confusion and fear. A man had spoken to her within the sanctuary of her bedroom. Panic surged through her, and she abruptly sat up in bed, reaching for the bedside lamp. In its soft glow, a figure materialized, concealed within dark robes and a hood that veiled their ident
LILA Blaise stormed into our room. "You keep giving me reasons not to trust you!" he barked, his voice echoing with a mixture of anger and betrayal. I followed Blaise into the room. We had just returned from the hospital where Tim was admitted. He was unconscious and in a bad shape, but he was still alive, which was a glimmer hope for me. "I'm sorry, Blaise, but—" "But what?" He spun around, his gaze piercing into mine. The muscles in his jaw twitched in barely contained frustration. "You made me promise to tell you everything going on, but you went ahead to do this on your own." His fingers raked through his hair, a gesture of sheer exasperation. He turned away momentarily, as if gathering his thoughts, then faced me again. His voice softened, tinged with worry, yet the undercurrent of irritation was unmistakable. "Lila, what if you were in that car? What if this tragedy had struck while you were returning from the Autumn Pack?" "I'm sorry." My words were a
AUTHOR'S P.O.V. Tim, dressed in the shadows with his all-black attire, stealthily navigated through the dense underbrush, determined not to alert the ever-watchful Mrs. Green. Fortunately, the moon had chosen to hide its luminous face that night, shrouding him in obscurity. His silent footsteps led him closer to the backyard of the house, which lay veiled in profound darkness, with only a faint glimmer from a lantern casting feeble light into the hallway. With deft carefulness, Tim picked the lock of the kitchen door, and within moments, the door yielded to his skilled touch. As he entered, he closed the door with painstaking care, but it let out a faint, protesting creak. A sudden crack from within the house prompted him to hide himself, holding his breath. Moments later, Mrs. Green emerged, gripping a shotgun, and sweeping it vigilantly from one corner of the house to the next. Tim knew that her senses were keen, and she could recognise his scent in an instant. Drawing
LILA As Tim drove me home in the dimming twilight, my mind swirled with thoughts of my earlier discussion with Mrs. Green. She had been evasive with her words, and it was evident that she possessed knowledge she wasn't willing to divulge. The only way I saw forward was using illegal means to obtain information, so, I contemplated enlisting Tim's help to infiltrate her abode, scouring for hidden secrets, while I confronted Dr. Richard regarding his involvement with Hart, who was from a pack two hours away from his own. "Tim," I began, my voice firm yet tinged with apprehension, "I need you to visit Mrs. Green's apartment tomorrow, discreetly, when she's absent. Search diligently for any trace of evidence—photographs, letters, tapes, whatever you can find." "Roger that, Luna," Tim acknowledged with determination, stepping down on the accelerator. Upon reaching home, I was greeted by Blaise, who was on the porch, waiting. His slung arm and sombre countenance hinted at
LILA The following day found me once more standing before Mrs. Green's doorstep, this time alone and imploring. Tim, my bodyguard, was not with me today. I thought that perhaps presenting myself alone would engender a greater sense of comfort and empathy from the woman. "Hello, Mrs. Green," I greeted, infusing my voice with a touch of desperation and plea. "Could you spare a moment to listen to me?" As she remained silent and motionless, I decided to appeal to her conscience. "Mrs Green, please understand that I'm a mother, and I've been separated from my two-year-old since yesterday. If you could kindly grant me access to complete my job and return to my waiting child, I would be immensely grateful. I cannot leave until the task is done—." Before I could complete my plea, the door swung open abruptly, revealing Mrs. Green's stern countenance. I met her gaze, silently pleading for entry. She scanned her surroundings before stepping aside, permitting me to enter. Initially
LILA Blaise had received strict instructions from Dr. Richard to rest until he fully recovered. However, I knew Blaise all too well to believe he would heed that advice. He was keen on dealing with his enemies and so was I to unmask them. Following a thorough sweep of the entire packhouse, we discovered concealed listening devices in both Blaise's study and the room he had allocated to me. Leo proposed that these bugs might have been the tools intruders employed to siphon information from the pack. Yet, I harboured doubts. I sensed that the truth lay beneath the surface, and I prayed that my solitary quest to unmask the mysterious 'Ghost' wouldn't lead me astray. My only wish was that my plan would unfold seamlessly. With unwavering determination, I informed Blaise that I intended to visit Randolph and Teresa at the vineyard. In truth, I had a different destination in mind. My true objective was the Water Side neighbouring pack, where I aimed to meet with a woman known to Teres