Returning from years at a distant temple, Lynette expects to find her best friend, Rowan, but instead encounters someone altogether different—a stranger with Rowan’s face and a magnetic pull that leaves her both wary and captivated. Kassian, living under his twin’s identity, is stunned to discover that Lynette is his fated mate in a world where such bonds are rare and nearly forgotten. Torn between his loyalty to Rowan’s memory and the undeniable connection he feels with Lynette, Kassian wrestles with resurfacing powers, deadly secrets, and a destiny he can’t escape. As supernatural forces long thought dormant begin to stir, Lynette is thrust into a world of shifters, fae, and vampires, uncovering mysteries about her own past that will either bind her to Kassian forever or tear them apart. But when the shadows deepen, and an ancient threat rises, Kassian and Lynette must decide if love and fate are enough to rewrite their destinies—or if darkness will claim them both.
View MoreThe meeting with the producer goes better than I expect, though it’s not perfect. He doesn’t hand me a lead role—how could he? I’ve been gone for so long, and my reappearance is sudden. But luck seems to favor me, if only a little. One of the main actresses, though not the lead, has fallen critically ill, and they need a replacement. That’s where I come in.He hands me the script, his tone brisk yet encouraging. “We’ve already started shooting,” he says. “We’ll need you ready. We’ll have to reshoot her scenes, but thankfully, it’s early in production, and nothing’s been revealed to the public yet.”I nod, smiling as confidently as I can, though inside, I’m a bundle of nerves.---Now, hours later, I’m back in my room, fresh from a shower and sprawled across my bed. The script sits on the bedside table, untouched, as my thoughts spiral into a familiar storm—him. It’s like every thought, every breath, finds its way back to him.I don’t just want him—I need him. My body, my heart, even m
“Zalie, what is it?” I ask, suddenly alert.She blinks, snapping out of her trance and smiling nervously. “Nothing. Just felt like someone was watching me.”“Do you want to leave?” I offer, glancing around for anything suspicious.She shakes her head quickly, brushing it off. “No, no. Don’t worry about it.” Her voice is chipper again, and the momentary tension dissolves. “Anyway, as I was saying…”I sit back, waiting for the rest of her story.“I agreed to the private dance,” she continues, smirking. “I figured it would add to the authenticity of my acting. So, I danced. I gave them my best moves, and girl, let me tell you—I was ‘on fire’. But then, of course, they took it too far. They asked for sex. In public.”I wrinkle my nose. “Men are goats.”“Exactly! I mean, I know people do it, but I’m not one of them. Shame isn’t just a word, it’s a lifestyle, and those men clearly don’t have it. Anyway…” She pauses again, her gaze darting around the café once more, as if she senses somethin
Lynette’s POVThe next day, we find ourselves at the shopping mall, an air of excitement swirling around us like the scent of new leather and expensive perfume. Hats and oversized sunglasses shield our identities, though they don’t hide the fact that we’re clearly not ordinary shoppers.Store after store, we roam like kids on a treasure hunt, trying on outfits, giggling over ridiculous accessories, and debating over which shade of lipstick makes the best statement. Normally, I don’t fuss over my looks—being a public figure has trained me to dress well but not obsess. Today, though, I feel a need to be different.I’m buying clothes—sexy, eye-catching ones. For him.It’s stupid, I know. Hell, I can call myself pathetic if I want to, but it doesn’t change the truth. Zalie says it’s normal, that she felt the same when she met her boyfriend. But for me, it’s strange and unnerving. I’ve never dressed to impress anyone before, let alone someone who shouldn’t even be on my mind.The worst par
“So,” Lyla begins, her voice quiet but probing, “how was your treatment?”The question lingers, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. I shift my gaze to the ceiling, the soft coral-purple light reflecting faintly from the walls. Memories I’ve tried to bury stir, threatening to rise.“Partially lonely,” I begin, my voice distant. “Terrifying. And… eye-opening.”Lyla props herself up on an elbow, her expression thoughtful. “Why?”I sigh, the words bubbling up despite the ache they bring. “Lonely because the monks weren’t exactly friendly. They only interacted with me when they had to teach or check on my progress. They weren’t cruel, but they weren’t companions either. I had two friends there, but one left a few months after I arrived. That left me… isolated.”The room seems to hold its breath, the quiet hum of the sea breeze filtering in through the slightly cracked window.“And terrifying,” I continue, my voice wavering. “Because their methods were intense, and the fear of dying ne
I snap out of my thoughts and focus on the present. Zalie’s excited voice echoes off the shimmering walls as Ivanna spins in the middle of the living room, her arms stretched wide to soak in the grandeur of the space. Sunlight filters through the sleek walls—glass or silver, I still can’t tell—spilling light across the polished floors and bathing the massive windows that overlook the sea. “My sugar daddies were very useful,” I say with a shrug, throwing a quick glance at Lyla, whose mischievous grin spreads wider. “You actually listened to our idea!” Lyla says, practically bouncing where she stands. I chuckle, shaking my head. “Well, you did make a convincing argument.” “This place is insane!” Ivanna exclaims, whirling around again. Her gaze shifts to the driveway, where a collection of gleaming, custom-built cars sits in neat rows, each one polished to perfection. “Are those your cars?” “Yep,” I reply nonchalantly, leaning back against the sofa. “All four of them. Custom-bu
The next morning, Zalie arrives with her two teammates, right on time—or, rather, earlier than expected. I sent her my address after a restless night and a phone call with Kassian.Talking to him soothes me in ways I can’t explain. He’s not Rowan, but something about his voice fills the emptiness Rowan could never touch. Kassian steadies me, his words wrapping around me like a safety net. And yet, the relief comes with guilt, sharp and unforgiving.How can I feel more at peace with Kassian alive, while mourning Rowan? And how can I keep Kassian’s secret—pretending to be the brother I grieve—without losing myself in the lie?What kind of person am I, really?The sound of footsteps and an exasperated voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.“What the hell, Lynette? You call this mansion an apartment?” Ivanna exclaims, her words echoing dramatically in the foyer. She strides in, tall and confident, her auburn hair a cascade of wild curls over her shoulders. Her amber eyes narrow as she
Lynette’s POVThe sunlight filters through the blinds, but it doesn’t brighten my mood. I’ve never been one to read the signs of the day—whether it would shine brightly or turn dark and stormy. I preferred surprises, letting fate unfold without trying to guess its twists. But fate hasn’t been kind to me, not since it dealt me death. The monks taught me differently. They showed me how to look for the signs, how to tread lightly and take in every detail.It helped. Mostly.I return from his office and throw myself onto my bed, the slightly rumpled sheets offering little comfort. My mind is spinning, replaying every interaction, every word, every glance. That man… That wasn’t Rowan. I felt it in my bones, in the rhythm of my heart. Something about him was different.Rowan always held this unspoken pull over me—familiar, safe, yet distant. There was always something missing, a gap I could never bridge. But with this man, the feeling clicked, slamming into place with unsettling clarity. It
I throw myself onto the bed, sinking into the mattress with a heavy exhale. The events of the run replay in my head, vivid and relentless. The visions, the sounds that stretched beyond what I should have been able to hear, and then… the spirit of Rowan’s wolf. It wasn’t an illusion, wasn’t a trick of light or a misfire of memory. It was real.Yes, I’ve always been stronger than other wolves—heightened senses, faster reflexes. But not like this. Not seeing the dead. Maybe it’s because we were twins, maybe because our wolves always knew each other as halves of the same whole. Fenrir buried himself deep when Rowan died, nearly tearing my own spirit in two, but I know our wolves always shared a bond, even then. Still, “this”? This was beyond anything I could understand.“This is insane,” I murmur, drumming my fingers on my thigh as I think through my problems. Three of them, and each feels impossible:1. The vampires now work for Höherstehend, complicating my mission beyond reason.2. The
Kassian’s POV“Alpha.” The voice of my beta, Brian, cuts through the quiet like a blade, and I tense, realizing I didn’t even hear him approach. I need to get myself back together.“Brian, mate,” I say, forcing calm into my tone, “what do you have for me?”His sigh is heavy, thick with the kind of news I’ve grown to dread. “Not good news, Alpha. Höherstehend Pack has hired vampires as reinforcements.”I inhale sharply, the familiar burn of anger spreading through my chest. Vampires are rare now, with no king, no council, and no real power since the apocalypse. They fight as mercenaries, desperate to survive, their venom stripped, unable to turn others. Vampires these days are shadows of what they were, but they still fight with a ferocity that makes them deadly allies.“Vampires? To eliminate me?”“Most likely, but for now, they’re bodyguards.” Brian’s voice is steady, but I can feel the tension beneath his words.I tilt my head, cracking my neck with the familiar roll of bone against
Lynette’s POVThe color of his eyes is unmistakable, violet that pierces through souls, not amethysts catching the sun. I stare at his picture on the cover of the magazine, transfixed by those eyes, even though they look somewhere else. Perhaps it’s a trick of the camera, but I know those eyes and they do not belong to this man.“Miss?” A soft voice cuts through my thoughts. I look up to see a flight attendant smiling nervously. “Could you please fasten your seatbelt? We’ll be landing shortly.”“Oh, of course,” I reply, securing the belt and flashing her a polite smile.“If you need anything…” She lingers, smiling too broadly, her fingers tapping against her clipboard as if she’s unsure whether to stay or go.“I’m fine, thank you,” I reassure her, but she continues fidgeting, her eyes flitting between me and the magazine in my lap. For a moment, I wonder if she recognizes me—despite the dark glasses and pulled-back hair.Then, with a final flustered nod, she leaves. I turn my attentio
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