I stood frozen, my heart sinking as I watched Cynthia cling to Dalton. Her hand held his with such familiarity, and every inch of their proximity seemed to burn with a painful intensity. It stung more than I cared to admit, the way her chest brushed against his and the way she gazed up at him with such clear expectation. My mind couldn’t help but imagine them together in ways I wasn’t ready to face—intimately involved. The memory of my coffee mishap earlier felt all too real in the wake of this moment.I tried to push those feelings down, tried to remind myself of who Dalton was—the Lycan King, still searching for his fated mate or chosen one. He was free to pursue whoever he wished, even if it crushed me to witness it.Finally, Dalton pulled his hand free from Cynthia’s grasp, his voice cool. “We will see, Cynthia. Now, I have a few more meetings to attend.”Cynthia pouted, though the expression quickly shifted into a bright, cheerful smile. “You work so much, Dalton. Don’t forget to
My heart raced, my nerves on edge as Dalton closed the door behind me. The soft click of the door shutting felt louder than it should, making me realize, in a rush, that it was just the two of us in the room.“Take a seat,” he said, his voice calm as he gestured to one of the chairs in the spacious office, walking toward his desk.I glanced around the room, trying to avoid his eyes for a moment. The space was massive, sleek, modern, and elegant, and I had no idea what I was doing here, especially alone with him. I spotted a notepad and a pen on the desk, and after a moment's hesitation, I asked, “May I?” He nodded slightly, giving me permission. I picked up the pen, clicking it open, needing something to occupy my hands. The nervous energy coursing through me was almost unbearable. I didn’t want to appear too fidgety, so I focused on the task at hand. “So, everybody tells me you don’t love parties or fun. What kind of event are you looking forward to, then?” I asked, hoping it would
I walked away from my office, frustration gnawing at me. The conversation with Olivia kept echoing in my mind, especially the way she’d looked at me when she claimed I could never love anyone. It was a simple statement, but something about it hit harder than expected. I’ve never been the type to care about what others think of me—especially not someone like her—but damn, her words kept lingering. Why did they affect me so much?I’ve been through enough rumors, whispers about me being the arrogant Lycan King who’s all command and no heart. They were right about one thing—I don’t let people close. I don’t need anyone. The curse hanging over me has kept me distant from everyone. Mates? I never understood them. Humans lived their lives without them—choosing partners based on preference, and if things didn’t work, they moved on. I wasn’t built for that. I never needed a mate. People only came near me because they wanted something—power, wealth, security.But Olivia... Olivia was different.
The days leading up to the ball passed in a haze of activity and confusion. I spent most of my time running around, overseeing the final preparations—arranging flowers, coordinating with the staff, making sure everything was just right. Maria had assigned a team of servants to assist me, but no matter how much help I had, my mind kept drifting back to the strange behavior of the Lycan King.Ever since that awkward conversation with Dalton, I noticed that he’d been avoiding me. The usually confident and commanding King seemed to retreat into his office, keeping to himself. I hardly saw him unless it was during the brief moments he emerged for a shower or when he needed to grab a bite to eat—if he ate at all. It felt… odd. I had hoped we could clear the air, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to even approach him. The tension that hung between us was suffocating.During meals, he was often absent, leaving me to sit at the table alone or with Maria, who was always busy with somet
I stood there, frozen, my heart racing as Drusilla's reaction caught me off guard. Her eyes widened in horror, and she screamed, swatting her hands around as if trying to fend off some unseen danger. I watched, still in shock, unsure of what to make of her frantic movements. I felt more self-conscious than I ever had in my life. The girl in the mirror... was that really me?"Drusilla, what did you do?" My voice came out thick, laced with confusion as I turned my gaze toward the reflection. I couldn’t process what I was seeing. I could barely recognize the person staring back at me.Drusilla rushed toward me, her hands landing on my shoulders, scanning me up and down as if trying to figure out what had gone wrong. "What? What did I do?" she asked, her voice full of frantic innocence.I was still struggling to believe what I was seeing, my throat tightening as I whispered, "That... that doesn’t look like me."Drusilla, clearly unfazed, slapped me lightly on the shoulder, a chuckle escap
I watched helplessly as Cynthia and her friends burst into laughter, the alcohol splashing across my face and ruining my makeup and hair. My skin stung as the liquid seeped into the fabric of my dress. My hands shook as I fought back tears, trying desperately to keep my composure. But they weren't done. They began pulling at my hair again, tugging at the delicate fabric of my dress like it was nothing more than a plaything."Just let me go!!" I cried out, my voice breaking as I struggled to free myself. But they only closed in on me tighter, their laughter ringing in my ears like a cruel melody. The music blared in the background, louder now, masking my voice.Cynthia's words pierced through the noise. "Remember what you are, you breeder. That day, when I saw you in the mansion, I should’ve known you were eyeing Dalton. Know this—he is mine. MINE!!" Her finger jabbed at my dress, and then she wiped her hand on a nearby shrub, as if I was something to be discarded."Ugh, don't touch he
I had been sitting in my office, surrounded by papers and files, my mind entirely focused on the task at hand. I had my decision made: I would bury myself in work, just as I always did. Olivia would not be the one to soften me. I had my duties, and nothing was going to change that.But no matter how much I tried to concentrate, my thoughts kept drifting to her. I’d tell myself that she didn’t matter, that she could go to the ball, find her mate, and move on. But my Lycan side had a different opinion.“Why are you avoiding her if she doesn't mean anything to you?”I rolled my eyes, trying to block it out. “Because I’m working. That requires focus.”The Lycan chuckled in my mind. “At least you admit she’s distracting you.”I gritted my teeth, frustration building. “Not helping,” I muttered, trying to shove the conversation aside. But even my own mind wouldn’t let me escape. I focused back on the files, trying to ignore the pull I felt every time I thought of Olivia.Then, the door to my
Dancing. I had never experienced anything like it before. The rhythm, the energy, the connection—I felt like I was floating, swept up in something I couldn’t quite control. Dancing had always been a solitary thing for me, something I did when I was alone, caught up in the feeling of joy or freedom. But here I was, on the dance floor, in the arms of Dalton, of all people. I could hardly believe it.His presence was magnetic, like nothing I had ever felt before. When he had asked me to dance, I couldn’t refuse. My heart raced, thudding in my chest like it might burst out of me. I had never been so nervous, but I couldn’t walk away. His hands on my waist, his eyes on mine—it was all too overwhelming.Dalton moved with such ease and grace, the kind of confidence that made me feel awkward in comparison. My steps were clumsy, and I stumbled once, stepping on his foot.“Sorry,” I mumbled, mortified.He chuckled softly, his voice low and smooth. “No need to apologize. You dance better when yo
I stood there, stunned, as Elijah ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. My heart skipped a beat, not from excitement, but from a gnawing unease.The name he had mentioned—the one I’d barely caught—had my ears ringing. Had I misheard? Or had Elijah just spoken to someone I didn’t expect?“Did the King give you another scolding?” I asked, trying to mask the concern in my voice, pretending I hadn’t overheard anything.Elijah shrugged, his gaze shifting away, not meeting mine. “Oh, no, nothing like that. Callahan had to leave for some urgent matters. Cynthia just... doesn’t want anyone disturbing them right now.” His words were dismissive, but they didn’t ease the growing knot in my stomach. Cynthia... I couldn’t ignore the strange tension in my chest. The way his voice faltered when he mentioned her—there was something there. Something I didn’t understand.“Is she... part of the official meetings?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my heart was beginning to ra
I was taken aback, staring at the phone screen in confusion as Elijah pointed out the contact list. “I do?” I repeated, unsure what I was seeing.Elijah grinned. “Yeah, see? It’s already saved. You’ve got Callahan’s number here, along with Matt’s, Drusilla’s, and a few other pack contacts.”I blinked at the screen, trying to process it. “I never really checked the phone much. I don’t get calls or messages... It was just something to carry around, you know?” I mumbled, my cheeks heating up.“Well, once you awaken your wolf, you won’t need the phone anyway.” Elijah’s voice was teasing, but there was an underlying hint of something else, like he was trying to reassure me without saying it directly. I felt embarrassed, but the thought of awakening my wolf—a part of me I didn’t even understand—made my chest tighten. “Yeah, I guess... Probably when Callahan took me to the shop, he added his number to it,” I said quietly, not fully sure why I was still talking about it.Elijah seemed unf
I kept walking, my footsteps heavy with frustration, not even glancing behind me to see if anyone was following. I didn’t need to. I could feel his presence before I even heard him."Hey, where are you going?" Elijah's voice called out, a bit out of breath, but determined.I quickened my pace, ignoring him, trying to outrun the emotions flooding through me. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. But before I knew it, Elijah was right in front of me, blocking my path, his gaze unwavering.I felt the frustration bubbling up again, a mix of anger and hurt, and I wiped my eyes, hoping the tears that had threatened to spill wouldn’t betray me further."I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes, and you're running away like I’m some kind of ghost," Elijah grumbled, his voice softer than usual, but still sharp enough to cut through the tension. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to hide his annoyance, but it was impossible to ignore. I couldn’t he
Zenovia stood motionless at the edge of the pack’s territory, her heart pounding in her chest as the pack members gazed at her from all directions. Each pair of eyes seemed to pierce into her very soul. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and took a hesitant step forward. Elijah’s hand gently rested on her back, urging her onward. “They’re not going to bite you. Just go ahead,” he whispered, his voice warm but carrying an undercurrent of nerves.She offered him a nervous smile, a poor attempt to mask the anxiety eating away at her insides. Elijah cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the silent crowd.“This is Zenovia Archer,” he announced, his voice carrying authority. “She’s now part of our pack. Please, give her a warm welcome.”The pack members exchanged wary glances, but not a single word was spoken. An oppressive silence filled the air, thick with uncertainty and suspicion. Zenovia felt the weight of their gaze bearing down on her, as if they were all waiting for her to
Zenovia stood motionless at the edge of the pack’s territory, her heart pounding in her chest as the pack members gazed at her from all directions. Each pair of eyes seemed to pierce into her very soul. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and took a hesitant step forward. Elijah’s hand gently rested on her back, urging her onward. “They’re not going to bite you. Just go ahead,” he whispered, his voice warm but carrying an undercurrent of nerves.She offered him a nervous smile, a poor attempt to mask the anxiety eating away at her insides. Elijah cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the silent crowd.“This is Zenovia Archer,” he announced, his voice carrying authority. “She’s now part of our pack. Please, give her a warm welcome.”The pack members exchanged wary glances, but not a single word was spoken. An oppressive silence filled the air, thick with uncertainty and suspicion. Zenovia felt the weight of their gaze bearing down on her, as if they were all waiting for her to
The tension was palpable as I stood in the courtyard of the pack house, feeling the weight of curious eyes on me. Elijah, seemingly unaware of my growing discomfort, continued forward with ease, his steps confident as ever. I followed him, though my mind was a whirl of doubts and anxieties. What was I doing here? I wasn’t even sure if I was supposed to be here. I had never met these people, and yet here I was, in their territory, looking like an outsider in a too-tight training outfit."Is everything okay?" Elijah asked, glancing back at me as we walked.I bit my lip nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "I’m just... not sure they’ll like me," I admitted, my voice quiet.He chuckled, a reassuring smile on his face. "Of course they will. You’re with me, aren’t you? Everyone here knows me. They’ll respect you."I wanted to believe him, but the voices in my head, full of doubts, kept whispering that I didn’t belong here. Not in this pack. Not in Callahan’s world.As we continue
The door clicked shut behind me, and for the first time in hours, I felt my body release the tension that had built up inside. I leaned against the cool wood for a moment, breathing deeply. It felt like I was finally alone, away from the storm of thoughts and emotions that had been swirling inside me. I stumbled over to the bed and collapsed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would claim me quickly. But my mind had other plans. Instead of drifting into peaceful oblivion, I was bombarded with flashes of memories—fragments of a past I could never seem to escape.I saw my father, distant and cold, brushing aside my concerns as if they were nothing. I remembered the cruel words he’d spoken, telling me I wasn’t his blood, that I was nothing more than a reminder of a life he never wanted. Sid’s face followed—his twisted desire, his claim that he wanted me, that he’d protect me. I shuddered.As my mind raced through these memories, the on
“What? No... please don’t leave me like this!” I pleaded, but Callahan didn’t even glance back at me. His movements were slow and methodical, as if unaffected by the tension hanging between us. He finished rolling his sleeves down, buttoned his shirt, and then, without another word, walked toward the driver’s seat.I was left standing there, a storm of frustration and confusion swirling inside me. Why had he left me hanging like this? The memory of his touch—the way his lips had kissed me, how he’d devoured me—still clung to my skin, leaving me feeling electric, alive, yet unfulfilled.The raw, intense feelings he’d sparked in me moments ago were still buzzing, but now they were abruptly snuffed out. I could still feel his hands on me, his mouth exploring my body. Every nerve in me ached for more. And yet, here I was—alone, watching him walk away as though nothing had happened. He didn’t even seem to care that I was burning with desire. It wasn’t just the physical frustration—it was
**Zenovia** His fingers traced the mark on my skin—slow, deliberate, sending shivers of sensation through me. Each soft touch felt impossibly intimate, a combination of tenderness and power that made me ache in ways I didn’t understand. I gasped when I felt the heat of his hand land on my backside, the sting sharp but followed by the warmth of his touch as he rubbed the spot. “Do you remember running away from me?” he asked, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill down my spine. “Ahh,” I whimpered as another slap followed the first, sharp and intoxicating. “Worrying me like that, Zee,” he continued, his tone stern. His hand fell again, the sting and warmth blending together in a way I couldn’t explain. I hated how much I craved it. The sharp pain spread through my skin, but then, just as quickly, his hand soothed the spot with gentle strokes, almost as though he was healing me from the inside out. I shouldn’t want this. It didn’t make sense. But every part of me lo