Elliott looks up from his tablet, his stride halting mid-step as his sharp eyes land on me. I’m sprawled on the yellow chair, my legs dangling over one arm and my head tilted back against the other.“You look like bullshit,” he says, his voice flat but edged with his usual sarcasm.A soft, jaded laugh escapes me. “I feel like bullshit.”He arches an eyebrow, places the tablet on the coffee table with a deliberate thud, and crosses the room with a steady, purposeful gait. There’s concern written across his face now, his brows drawn together as he stops just short of my chair.Elliott has this way of looking at people like he’s trying to figure out how to fix them, as if every problem is solvable with just the right touch of logic and kindness. It’s a maddeningly earnest quality, and one of the reasons I’ve grown so attached to him.I chuckle dryly, glancing up at him. “Meet Elliott, everyone. A man who cares far too much about humans for his own good. He’s excellent at his job, an even
Kassian’s POVThe boardroom is flawless—cold, sleek, and uncomfortably spotless. The floor-to-ceiling windows let in just enough light to give the illusion of openness, but the heavy, airtight stillness betrays the room’s true nature. The faint hum of the air conditioning blends with the occasional creak of leather chairs as board members subtly shift in their seats. The partial silence is heavy, pressing down like an unspoken command, daring anyone to break it.Yet, the usual sense of control only makes the storm in my mind louder.The presenter’s voice drones on, a steady stream of words describing revenue margins and strategic expansions. The click of her laser pointer punctuates each slide of the glowing pie chart, its rhythm as persistent as the dull ache in my chest.My gaze drops to the phone resting beside my notes, its black screen a taunting reminder of the unanswered messages. Lynette’s name is burned into my mind like a brand, each syllable dragging me further into an obses
The meeting ends without me realizing it. One moment, I’m trapped in the whirlwind of my thoughts, and the next, chairs scrape across the polished floor, and people are gathering their papers.I stand slowly, unsure if I’ve agreed to the promotion plan or the contract involving Lynette. It all passed in a daze, leaving my chest heavy as I step out of the boardroom. The click of my shoes echoes off the glossy tile, the sound swallowed by the sterile chill of the hallway.I don’t have time to dwell on the meeting—or Lynette—for long. The next appointment, this one with associates in Asia, waits for me. I slip into my office, the familiar setup for a virtual conference already glowing on the large monitor.The screen flickers to life, revealing a series of sharp, composed faces. Their expressions, a blend of politeness and restrained impatience, set the tone for what’s to come. The meeting begins immediately, diving into logistics, profit margins, and the finer points of a new joint ventu
Lynette’s POVEveryone on set tells me I’m glowing. Maybe I am. My skin seems brighter under the warm studio lights, the golden hues catching every curve and feature. There’s a hum in the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter, the snap of camera shutters, and the occasional shuffle of fabric as the stylists move props.The studio hums with life, a symphony of scattered chatter, the faint hum of fluorescent lights, and the rhythmic shuffle of equipment being moved across polished floors. The air is warm, filled with the faint tang of fresh paint and the lingering aroma of coffee cups left on every available surface. Everything feels alive with movement and sound, but I can’t bring myself to care.I’m not thinking about glowing, or their compliments.No. I’m thinking about him.Kassian.Despite promising myself this morning to stop obsessing, I’ve already broken that vow a dozen times. My phone is practically glued to my hand more often than I’d like to admit. My thumb hovers over his m
My body recognizes him instantly. Despite the tension crackling in the air, I melt into his embrace, my senses on high alert. The trembling in my limbs eases, replaced by an inexplicable sense of safety.His arms are strong, his grip firm, and his warmth seeps into my skin like a protective barrier against everything else in the room. And yet, the deadly aura radiating off him in waves keeps me on edge, a warning that the man holding me is far from safe.“Alpha,” Tyson murmurs quietly, the word loaded with respect and fear.The tone of his voice and the way he doesn’t meet Kassian’s eyes send a flicker of unease through me. Tyson’s broad shoulders shift subtly, his posture lowering into something that feels… submissive.But my focus isn’t on Tyson. It’s on the man holding me.The spicy undertones of Kassian’s scent—rosewood, sage, and cinnamon—wrap around me like a blanket. It’s intoxicating, familiar in a way I can’t explain, and I hate how my body instinctively leans into it. My han
Kassian’s POVBlack and red. That’s all I see as my instincts take over, driving me to the one place I know I’ll find her—my mate. My fury boils hotter with every step, the weight of it coiled in my chest like a beast ready to tear its way out.I stomped out of my office earlier in a rage, probably startling half my staff into silence. Let them be confused; I didn’t care. All I could think about was her—the stubborn, infuriating, gorgeous woman who refused to stay out of my head. The one the universe thought fit to pair me with.Lynette.And now, she’s here with him.I can’t stop the growl that rumbles low in my throat. She’s mine, yet she’s parading herself around like she doesn’t know better.But that’s the problem, isn’t it?She doesn’t know.Fenrir, my wolf who’s been unnervingly silent for days, comes roaring to the surface. “Don’t even think about blaming her, Kassian!” His growl pierces through my thoughts, sharp and biting. “She’s human! She doesn’t know!”“Don’t defend her, Fe
I sigh heavily as I trudge into my bedroom, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a stone. The faint hum of the air conditioner buzzes in the background, blending with the muffled ticking of the clock on the wall. The silence between these sounds feels deafening, amplifying the storm raging in my mind. My emotions churn, tangled and relentless, as my mind replays the way Lynette ran from me.At first, it had been almost amusing, her defiance sparking something unfamiliar and infuriatingly addictive within me. But as soon as I drove away from the studio, that fleeting humor dissolved into agitation and doubt.What was she thinking when I dragged her toward my car? The memory of her confused, angry eyes gnaws at me, clawing deeper the more I think about it. Even I know I treated her too roughly. She tried to start a conversation, her voice uncertain but willing to bridge the gap, and all I did was snap at her like a rabid animal.What if she grows suspicious? Worse, what if I’ve
Dammit, I’m screwed.The mate bond is far stronger than I imagined—stronger than I remembered. The moment Lynette ran from me, I should have gone after her. I should have remembered how deeply the bond grips an alpha when their mate tries to escape.But I didn’t.At first, I thought I was fine. Fenrir was busy lecturing me, his growling voice keeping the instinct at bay. But as soon as I blocked him out, it hit me. Hard. The restless tapping of my foot quickly spiraled into anxious pacing, the need to move consuming me.Soon, I was jogging in place, the sharp edge of agitation crawling under my skin. My chest felt tight, my breathing uneven, my nails dragging through my hair like I could tear the chaos away. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.The bond had taken hold.Fenrir didn’t even have to force his way through my mental barrier—it shattered under the weight of the bond’s pull.Now, I’m a mess.Sweat drips down the sides of my face, soaking into my already
Across the room, Kassian remains unmoving. His mind is a haze of static, his thoughts tangled in a thick web of denial. He watches them press their hands against Lynette’s lifeless form, listens to their frantic attempts to revive her, but none of it registers. She’s not dead.She’s just… sleeping.She’ll wake up soon. She has to.Something deep inside him pulses, hollow and aching. The mate bond—the once-constant hum of connection—has been severed, leaving behind nothing but a vast, unbearable emptiness. He feels it, deep in his soul, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Because if he does—if he admits, even for a second, that she’s really gone—he won’t survive it.His hands twitch at his sides, clenching and unclenching as his thoughts spiral.How do I live without her?How does he wake up every morning without hearing her voice? Who will roll their eyes at his brooding and call him dramatic? Who will compliment his cooking but vehemently love it more than anything? Who will read him li
A quiet hum drifts through the dimly lit office as Oliver methodically sorts through scattered documents, the faint scent of paper mixing with the lingering traces of Kassian’s scent. Outside, the day is still, save for the distant chirping of birds, a stark contrast to the turmoil that has haunted this place for days.He steals a glance at Kassian, sprawled across the worn leather couch, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. There’s something almost childlike about the way he sleeps—completely at ease, his face unburdened by the grief and rage that have shadowed him since Ryker’s death. Oliver can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen his cousin sleep, and never once has it been so peaceful. Before, it was always fitful, his brows drawn tight, his body tense, as if even in slumber, he fought unseen battles. But now… now he’s at rest.A warmth spreads through Oliver’s chest, satisfaction curling around his heart like a protective shield. Justice has been ser
It’s a good day to die.The thought crashes into my mind, and I immediately regret it. Worst possible time for jokes, Lynette.My breath is shallow, my pulse hammering against my ribs like a desperate prisoner trying to escape a cage. The scent of damp earth and pine needles fills my nose, and it almost feels as if I can perceive my own fear.I step back cautiously, my slippers sinking slightly into the forest floor, soft moss cushioning the impact. My eyes dart over my shoulder, scanning for any possible escape routes. Nothing. Thick trees enclose the area like silent spectators, their gnarled branches twisting above, casting jagged shadows in the fading sunlight. Even if I did run, what were the odds I’d make it?Slim. No—nonexistent.Panic grips me with icy fingers, tightening around my throat. My mind screams for a way out, some way to call for help. If only I had a mental link like Kassian did with his pack—something, anything to let him know I’m in danger. But I don’t. The best
The quiet hum of the AC fills the office, cold air whispering through the space, blending with the faint rush of wind from the open window. Somewhere in the background, the coffee machine lets out a low gurgle. The silence is heavy. Oppressive. It settles around us like a second skin, thick enough to suffocate.I want to say something. I want to fix this. But the words lodge themselves in my throat, tangled between the fear of hurting him and the desperation to pull him back before it’s too late.Then, warmth.A gentle pressure over my fidgeting hands, stopping their restless movements.I jolt slightly at the unexpected contact, my heart skipping a beat. Kassian’s hands are warm—so warm—completely engulfing mine as if he’s trying to ground himself through me.I look up at him, breath catching at the raw emotion on his face. The sadness, the exhaustion, the fear—it’s all there, painted across his features in shades of grief and torment. His amethyst eyes, dulled with sorrow, meet mine,
The hallway outside Kassian’s office is eerily quiet, the usual buzz of the pack absent. The air smells of old parchment, ink, and something heavier—like exhaustion and fading traces of stress-induced sweat. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before rapping my knuckles against the door.“Knock knock, it’s me!” I call out, my voice deliberately cheerful, a singsong lilt added for effect. A wide smile stretches across my lips, but inside, I’m anything but lighthearted.It has been over a week since Kassian defeated his father, and everything has changed. The pack. The leadership. Him.At the pack’s request, he revealed the truth—the real Rowan Draven had died long ago, and Kassian had been living in his place. Doubts lingered, of course. Murmurs of suspicion slithered through the media, but the CCTV footage he once hid sealed the truth. Footage proving he hadn’t been anywhere near Rowan’s death. That was the easy part. After all, back then, Kassian had dyed his hair black.I didn’t
The arena is silent, save for the rhythmic pounding of hearts, the quiet inhales and exhales of tense bodies, and the occasional nervous shuffling of feet against the stone seating. A warm breeze drifts through the vast space, whispering through the ears of the gathered pack members, carrying the distant cries of birds and rustling leaves from beyond the towering arena walls. The scent of smoky vanilla and cream—the distinct fragrance that unites them as one—lingers in the air, blending with the individual scents of sweat, fear, and anticipation. The heavy mix of emotions clogs the atmosphere, suffocating to anyone with heightened senses.Yet, among the hundreds of anxious onlookers, one figure remains entirely unaffected.At the highest point of the arena, where the view is unobstructed, Lynette lounges with effortless ease, legs crossed as she leisurely munches on the cookies in the large bowl at her feet. Sunlight spills through the glass roof above, catching the frosty strands of
The air in the pack arena is thick with tension, the faint strong scents of emotions mingling with the crisp bite of evening air. The weight of everything that has happened in the past hour presses against my chest like a boulder, suffocating, heavy.Vivian made Lynette’s demand clear, and then everything spiraled. My father—weak but still an alpha—exploded in fury, his roar shaking the very foundation of the hall. The guards tried to restrain him, but it was useless. His presence alone is enough to make seasoned warriors hesitate, their instincts screaming at them to submit. It was only when Vivian, despite her own exhaustion, used her magic to subdue him that he finally fell. But at a cost—her body shook violently, blood spilling from her lips as the spell took its toll.Then the truth unraveled, piece by piece, in the most horrifying way.I had always wondered why a powerful witch like Vivian tolerated a man like my father. Now, I know. And the knowledge is sickening.Noelle walked
My mother stared back with wide, horrified eyes. Her lips parted, trembling, unable to form words. Then the scream that tore through her throat, so raw it sent a shiver down my spine even now, years later.She lost her mind in that moment. And in that moment, she lost everything.The gleam of the blade was the last thing I saw before she pressed it to her throat and dragged it across her skin.I remember the gurgling sound, the way the air filled with the thick, metallic scent of blood. I remember her collapsing, her body convulsing. The life draining from her eyes.And I remember him. Ryker, my so-called father, standing there. Watching.He rolled his eyes.And then he turned his back and walked away.He never turned back when I ran after him, my screams tearing from my throat as I begged him to save her. He never cared.And neither did anyone else.The pack didn’t mourn the loss of their unkind and selfish Luna. No one spoke of the pain she endured. No one cared about the woman she
Lynette’s fingers tighten around my forearm before she lets go, stepping forward. My muscles tense instinctively, my gut twisting. What is she doing?“Lynette,” I murmur, leaning toward her, my voice low, questioning. Her sudden change of topic throws me off, her choice of words even more so. She knows what she’s doing—she has to. But why?She doesn’t look at me, but I see the way her shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath. “Trust me.”My throat bobs, and I force myself to nod, even as unease prickles beneath my skin.Then, she shifts her attention back to my father, her head tilting. “You know,” she begins, almost casually, “I thought my father was the worst man alive. But I stand corrected. Turns out, he’s top-tier garbage, while you, Ryker, take the spot of F-rank waste.”A beat of silence. Then—a strangled noise from the crowd. I hear the sharp inhale of people struggling to keep their composure, the barely stifled coughs that are most certainly hiding laughter. Even the guards