Lynette’s POVThe soft clinking of the spoon against the ceramic cup is the only sound breaking the heavy silence in the room as I stir the tea. The faint hum of the heater drones on in the background, barely audible over the steady rhythm of my own heartbeat. The faint citrusy aroma of freshly squeezed lemons mingles with the delicate sweetness of honey, the sharper scent of Kassian’s sweat and the earthy spice of his cologne—creating a calming scent that fills the air. It’s almost ironic how soothing it is, given the storm of emotions swirling inside me.“Here you go, one cup of my sweet lemon tea,” I say brightly, my voice a little too cheerful to hide the nervous flutter in my chest. I place the cup carefully into his waiting hands, and for a brief moment, my fingers brush against his as he takes it. The contact is fleeting, but it sends a strange warmth skittering up my arm, igniting a tingling warmth that lingers on my skin.“Thanks,” Kassian murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.
“My parents got married for business,” he begins, his voice low and rough. The words come out strained, as if he’s dragging them from the depths of a painful memory. “It was never about love. Just an alliance to strengthen the family… bonds.” His eyes darken, and I swear I can feel the weight of his anger ripple through the room.“They fell in love—or at least, my mother thought they did—until she found out my father was cheating on her just months after their marriage. The betrayal killed her. Not physically, not at first. But it broke something inside her.” He pauses, his jaw tightening as a muscle in his cheek twitches.The faint hum of the heater fills the silence between us, and I become painfully aware of the way his fingers curl tightly around the armrest.“Of course, we had no idea about the affairs. Not until he walked into our lives one day with his new wife—and two daughters. One of them just a year younger than me, the other five years younger.”The bitterness in his tone
“My parents got married for business,” he begins, his voice low and rough. The words come out strained, as if he’s dragging them from the depths of a painful memory. “It was never about love. Just an alliance to strengthen the family… bonds.” His eyes darken, and I swear I can feel the weight of his anger ripple through the room.“They fell in love—or at least, my mother thought they did—until she found out my father was cheating on her just months after their marriage. The betrayal killed her. Not physically, not at first. But it broke something inside her.” He pauses, his jaw tightening as a muscle in his cheek twitches.The faint hum of the heater fills the silence between us, and I become painfully aware of the way his fingers curl tightly around the armrest.“Of course, we had no idea about the affairs. Not until he walked into our lives one day with his new wife—and two daughters. One of them just a year younger than me, the other five years younger.”The bitterness in his tone
The moment Kassian’s and my lips touch, a low moan escapes both of us, the sound reverberating in the quiet room. His lips are soft but insistent, moving against mine with a perfect mix of control and need.Heat floods my body, pooling in my core as his hands slide from my arms to cup my face. The world blurs around us, every sensation narrowing down to the feel of his lips, his breath, his touch.He tastes warm, intoxicating, and I’m lost in him before I even realize it.The kiss deepens, his mouth opening slightly as he pulls me closer. A low, guttural noise rumbles in his chest, and I feel it vibrate against me. His hands move, one sliding to the small of my back while the other tangles in my hair, his fingers grazing my scalp.My thighs clench involuntarily, the rush of desire coursing through me almost unbearable. My breaths come faster, heavier, matching the rhythm of his. The pressure between my legs builds, and I shift slightly, trying to ease it, but it only makes it worse.H
The soft hum of the SUV’s engine fills the silence as I lean my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the cityscape blur past. Raindrops streak the glass, catching the faint glow of the streetlights as we speed toward the studio. The muted sound of tires splashing against wet pavement creates a steady rhythm, blending with the low buzz of the heater. I close my eyes briefly, letting the faint scent of leather and Elliott’s cologne in the front seat fill my senses, but it does little to settle the turmoil within me.For days now—four, to be exact—I’ve been plagued by thoughts I can’t seem to escape. Kassian has found a way to infiltrate every corner of my mind, and it’s driving me insane. It’s not just his face, though that alone is enough to leave me breathless. It’s everything about him: his presence, his voice, his scent.Even in my dreams, he haunts me.The wet dreams are the worst. Each one is more vivid than the last, leaving me shaken and dissatisfied in ways I can
An hour later, the studio is in full swing. The lights overhead cast a warm glow, illuminating the sleek furniture and the vivid backdrop displaying the show’s name: “Inside with Nellie”. The faint murmur of the crew’s movements blends with the occasional snap of a clipboard or the shuffle of papers. The scent of coffee lingers faintly in the air, mingling with the floral perfume of one of the assistants bustling past.I sit in a quiet corner, my legs stretched out on a stool, scrolling through my phone while waiting for the show to begin. My fingers brush idly against the smooth surface of the screen, but my focus is on the voice crackling through the phone.“Are you absolutely sure Nellie won’t ask any personal questions?” Zalie’s voice is sharp with concern, carrying a distinct note of worry.“She promised she wouldn’t,” I reply, my tone reassuring. “And you know Nellie—she’s too fearless and nonchalant to lie about something trivial like that.”Zalie’s silence on the other end is
The interview went well—or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. Nellie asked all the expected questions about my health and the mysterious location of my treatment. I kept my answers vague, teasing the audience with the notion of a “secret haven.” Brushing those off felt easy enough.But then she asked about Rowan.The mention of him caught me off guard. My throat tightened, and for the briefest moment, my smile faltered. Nellie, ever perceptive, noticed and hesitated. Concern flickered in her eyes, and I could tell she worried she’d touched a nerve. “It’s not a sensitive topic,” I’d assured her with a light laugh, though the strain in my voice betrayed me.I told her the truth—or most of it. That Rowan and I were still friends, though things had gotten rocky before he… changed. Then, with a playful smile, I added that we were fixing it, even hinting at an upcoming “date.”The audience ate it up. Nellie beamed at my answer, the warmth of the crowd washing over us like applause
Kassian stops in front of me, and his presence is so overwhelming, so all-consuming, it drives every coherent thought from my mind. His eyes glimmer like molten amethyst, vibrant and alive, holding something ancient and untamed, like secrets that could unravel the world.My breath hitches as he lifts a hand, his movements deliberate, like he’s afraid to shatter something fragile.His palm brushes against my cheek, the warmth of his touch spreading across my skin like wildfire. It sends sparks racing down my spine, and before I can think, I lean into his hand instinctively. The roughness of his calloused palm grounds me, tethering me to this moment even as it threatens to pull me under.A smile tugs at my lips, soft and unbidden, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My body seems to know what to do, even as my mind falters, grasping for clarity.Kassian lifts his other hand, cupping my face between both palms. His touch is gentle, reverent, as though I’m something sacred, som
Lynette is startled by the speed—and probably the desperation—in my voice and face. She hesitates, her hand gripping the edge of the doorframe, giving me just enough of a chance to wedge myself between the door and the frame.“So you see… um… I didn’t come here without a purpose.” My voice comes out rushed, almost frantic. “There’s an absolutely valuable reason why I’m here.” I hesitate, scrambling for something, anything, that sounds reasonable. “So, please, calm down and let me explain… I mean, talk! Yes! Haha.”What the hell am I doing?What am I? A damn teenage boy?“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, dragging a hand roughly through my hair. The strands stick to my fingers, damp with sweat. My heart is pounding, not just from the mortifying awkwardness of this situation, but from everything she is. It’s too much. She’s too close, too intoxicating, too ‘her’.The reasons why my thoughts are tangled, my breathing shallow, and my control splintering pile up like a relentless avalanch
I press the doorbell again, my thumb jamming down harder each time, the repetitive chime echoing in the still night air. I know she hears me. She has to. My persistence is a reminder that I’m still here, standing on her porch like a fool. At first, I think she’ll keep ignoring me, just as she has for the past hour. But then—faintly, almost too faintly to trust—my ears pick up the soft sound of her footsteps.My heart slams against my chest like a drumbeat, and a hopeful bliss surges through me, lighting up my senses like fireworks. Her scent grows stronger as she nears the door, flooding out from the small crack beneath it. It’s intoxicating—floral and sweet, like spring itself wrapped around my lungs. But with the hope comes a rush of anxiety that tightens its grip around my chest.What if she’s coming out just to slam the door in my face?What if she says something cruel?What if she despises me?The questions spiral uncontrollably, and my mind races to keep up with the dread clawin
Kassian’s POVThe night sky stretches above me, a dark canvas speckled with faint stars. The crescent moon hangs weakly, its pale glow almost drowned by the vivid lights illuminating the mansion’s exterior. Strings of soft white, yellow, gold, pink, and lilac lights cast a dreamy haze over the grand facade, their glow reflecting off the neatly manicured garden below. The air hums with the constant chatter of crickets, their rhythmic song mingling with the occasional rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze passes through. The breeze carries a medley of floral scents, sweet and calming, from the meticulously arranged flowerbeds dotting the compound.But none of it compares to her.Lynette’s scent cuts through everything, rich and unmistakable. It’s as if she’s the embodiment of nature itself, her fragrance a symphony of fresh blooms and sunlit meadows. Sweet yet sharp, soothing yet overwhelming. It pulls me in like a tide, drowning out the world around me. Even here, standing on her porch,
“Oh, you little—!” I choke on my own breath, breaking into laughter so hard my sides ache. “It’s not like that! We’re not there yet!” I protest between gasps, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.Ivanna just smirks knowingly, folding her arms as she leans back. She doesn’t need to say anything—her smug expression says it all. She knows exactly what’s going on, and she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to throw me off balance.Zalie collapses onto her bed, clutching her stomach as she laughs harder, and I can’t help but join her, the weight of my embarrassment dissolving into the infectious joy of the moment.“It’s really not like that,” I say softly, my voice tinged with shyness.“Mm-hm,” they chime in unison, their teasing smirks lighting up their faces. The room feels alive with their playful energy, a sharp contrast to the soft, cozy warmth that lingers from the blankets and faint jasmine and gardenia scent of fabric softener. I roll my eyes dramatically, stretching my ar
Lynette’s POVI tap the bottom of my pen against my chin, the faint plastic click echoing in the stillness of my room. My legs sway lazily in the air, brushing against the soft, cool fabric of my sheets as I lie on my stomach. The warm glow of the bedside lamp casts a golden hue over the crumpled papers scattered haphazardly across my bed—lyric drafts and scribbles abandoned in creative frustration. On my laptop screen, Zalie mirrors my position, sprawled across her bed with a mischievous smile, her butterscotch hair spilling like ink across her pillow. Her room is no tidier than mine; sheets and notebooks are tossed around like the aftermath of a brainstorming storm.In the background of Zalie’s frame, Ivanna sits cross-legged on the edge of the bed, leaning heavily on a plastic table she’s clearly dragged into the scene for the sake of convenience. Her posture is casual but focused, one hand propping up her chin as she skims over notes. The subtle hum of life fills the shared spaces
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, and lean backward slightly. “Make her yours.”Kassian scoffs, the sound bitter and sharp. “And what about my identity as a werewolf? The fact that I’m not Ro—” His words cut off abruptly as he bites down on his bottom lip. His fists clench, and a low growl rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating through the air like distant thunder. He looks away, his gaze distant, his expression clouded with conflict.I wait, watching him carefully. The seconds stretch, his silence filling the room like a weight. Finally, he sinks back into the chair, the movement stiff and deliberate. “Even if it endangers her life?” he asks quietly, his voice carrying a note of resignation.“Life is a risk,” I reply softly, watching as he leans his head back against the chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The faint light above casts shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the tension etched into every line of his face. I let the silence settle, hoping my words wil
Kassian tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “That’s what makes her perfect for you.” I add cautiously.The air grows tense, the only sound the faint creak of wood as he shifts his stance. “She’s human,” he deadpans, his voice flat, yet there’s a flicker of something behind it—doubt, perhaps, or disbelief. He looks at me with a bored expression, but his eyes betray the storm churning within him.“And I’m a fish,” I snap back, sarcasm dripping from my tone as I wave my hand in mock dismissal. He scoffs, a short, sharp sound, but I catch the faint twitch of his lips as though he’s fighting a smile.The tension breaks slightly, like a taut string slackening. “Look, Rowan,” I say, leaning forward, the chair groaning beneath me. “I’ll tell you this from firsthand experience. A true mate is a gift—rare, incredible, and something not everyone gets to have. You’ve been given this chance, her. So, tell me, how do you feel when you’re around her?”For a moment, his mask slips. His brows k
“Bloody Rowan,” Kassian snarls under his breath, the sharp edge in his voice cutting through the damp, cool air. The faint metallic scent of blood lingers in the room, mingling with the earthy smell of wood and the faint tang of old leather from the chair Kassian had kicked over earlier. My heart pounds in my chest, but that’s the least of my worries. His wolf’s eyes—blue? Since when? Last time I saw Fenrir, they were royal purple, like molten amethyst under the moonlight.Kassian’s wolf, Fenrir, is a stark contrast to Rowan’s Rune. Fenrir is larger, faster, stronger—an overwhelming force of raw power and ferocity that Rune, with his quieter, more agile presence, could never match. Yet, it isn’t just size or strength that sets them apart. It’s their eyes—those unmistakable marks of their deviance. Fenrir’s were a regal, commanding royal purple, while Rune’s shimmered a softer, almost ethereal lilac. Together, the Draven brothers were known for this rare and legendary trait. No shifter
Lynette. Of course, it’s her.The realization lands heavily, though I can’t say it surprises me. It’s shocking, yes, but not unexpected. Anyone who had been paying attention could have guessed this was coming.Rowan’s obsession with her had always been suspicious, the way he watched her, talked about her. Once, he even mentioned he thought she might be his mate, but his stepmother had silenced him before he could say more. At the time, none of us could confirm it, not with Kassian missing and no tangible evidence to back up Rowan’s feelings.But now, with Kassian here and the mate bond undeniable, it all makes sense.“Damn,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair as I lean back in my chair. Thank the Moon Goddess the truth never came to light back then. If Kassian’s father had even suspected Lynette could be his son’s mate, he would have done everything in his power to destroy her—or worse, force Rowan to mark her.That’s how much that pathetic excuse for a father despises Kassian.