The 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. He doesn’t loo
“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
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