My hands tremble as I grab my bag again, rushing toward the door for the second time today. The air feels heavier now, thick with the weight of what’s about to happen. I pull the door open, only to freeze as a familiar car screeches into my driveway, moving so fast it’s like he’s being chased. My heart slams against my ribs, a cold sweat forming at the back of my neck. Fear coils tightly in my chest, but I force a smile and clutch the strap of my bag, gripping it until my fingers ache.The car door opens, and Kassian steps out, his every movement deliberate, precise. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. His cherry-blonde hair sweeps back in layered waves, the tips faintly tinted golden blonde, as if kissed by sunlight. A few loose curls fall over his forehead, framing those striking amethyst eyes, which seem darker, sharper than usual. The faint trace of eyeliner only makes them pop more.He’s dressed in black—everything from his fitted shirt to his boots hugs him like a second skin
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 attention
“Lynette!” I break into a smile, warmth flooding through me as I drop to my knees, arms open for the only person who truly matters here—my nephew. Evan, my sweet boy. His father may be my eldest brother, but Evan feels like my own, a connection promised and sealed on the day his mother passed, just after bringing him into the world. I swore to her that day I would look after him. “Evan, my boy,” I murmur, hugging him tight, rocking us both as if it could stop time. “How have you been? I’ve missed you so much.”He hugs me back, his small arms locked around my neck. “I’ve been good! I missed you too.” His eyes shine with that pure, eager love I almost forgot existed. He must’ve been waiting by the window all day, knowing I was coming. My emails to him were the only letters that mattered.“How’s your new mom?” I ask gently, brushing back a lock of his sandy hair.“She’s amazing, Lynette!” he beams. “She’s nice and gives me lots and lots of sweets.” His eyes flick to his father, then ba
The next day, I enter his office building, noting how much it’s changed. Once bright and open, now the place feels cold, haunted—dark walls and muted tones replacing the warmth and energy that used to flow through the hallways. This place is as haunted as he is, transformed into something hard and unyielding. I see his pain in the colors, the starkness, as if he’s painted his grief across every surface. Rowan has always expressed himself through colors and music, a gift he inherited from his twin. Now, those colors feel raw, heavy, like they’re bleeding through the walls.I stop at the security desk, where a young secretary hands me a sleek silver card with my appointment details. The place is excessively formal now, tightly wound with regulations and processes that make it feel like a fortress. I remember when it used to feel more like a home than a business. I can feel Rowan’s anguish in the rigidity of his rules, the locked doors, the guards at every turn.The guards scan me thorou
Kassian’s POVFor three years, I’ve lived as Rowan. It’s my identity now, woven into my very skin. The life suits me—it’s the life I was meant for. Cold, heartless, ruthless. I embrace the labels, every last one, because I know I won’t stop until my purpose is fulfilled. Four down, two to go. Almost there, Rowan. Watch me.Taking on Rowan’s life opened up truths about him I hadn’t expected. He was weak, soft, and too kind. It’s why they tried to kill him in the first place. And there was something else—something darker, buried beneath his polite exterior. Rowan had an obsession, one that festered in secret. His best friend, Lynette. He didn’t just care for her; he was obsessed with her in a way that twisted the meaning of love.I know what love should look like. This wasn’t love.Rowan kept tabs on her every move, had hidden cameras, private photos of her in moments she thought were her own. Eating, sleeping—even in the shower. He had mementos of her—scarves, napkins, even her tissues
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
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
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
My hands tremble as I grab my bag again, rushing toward the door for the second time today. The air feels heavier now, thick with the weight of what’s about to happen. I pull the door open, only to freeze as a familiar car screeches into my driveway, moving so fast it’s like he’s being chased. My heart slams against my ribs, a cold sweat forming at the back of my neck. Fear coils tightly in my chest, but I force a smile and clutch the strap of my bag, gripping it until my fingers ache.The car door opens, and Kassian steps out, his every movement deliberate, precise. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. His cherry-blonde hair sweeps back in layered waves, the tips faintly tinted golden blonde, as if kissed by sunlight. A few loose curls fall over his forehead, framing those striking amethyst eyes, which seem darker, sharper than usual. The faint trace of eyeliner only makes them pop more.He’s dressed in black—everything from his fitted shirt to his boots hugs him like a second skin
The warm breeze brushes gently against my skin as I lean back on the gold bench, my head tilted over the top rail, eyes closed. The sunlight filters through the trees, bright but not blinding, its warmth settling over me like a soft embrace. It’s the kind of day that would normally make me smile, the kind of serene weather that feels like it belongs in a painting. The wind whistles faintly in my ears, carrying with it the rustling of the leaves and the faint, sweet scent of the flowers planted all around the compound.Somewhere nearby, I can hear the sound of the bodyguards moving about—soft footsteps against the gravel, the occasional murmur of conversation. They’re distant enough to make me feel like I’m alone, yet close enough to remind me that I’m not.For a moment, I pretend everything is fine. I try to lose myself in the warmth of the sun, the gentle sway of the breeze, and the steady rhythm of life around me. But it doesn’t last. It never does.I exhale slowly, and the fragile
The message stares back at me, the image burning into my eyes—a picture of myself, almost completely naked, clad in nothing but my panties. Below it, the words: We should meet up again, sugar baby.My hands tremble as I clutch the phone, and a cold sweat breaks across my skin. That pet name—sugar baby—slams into me like a freight train. My stomach twists violently. I know who sent this. One of them is back. One of the older men I swore I’d left behind, forgotten, erased. It isn’t just a message; it’s a threat.The air feels suffocating, thick and heavy. My mind churns with fragmented memories of my past—the choices I made, the things I did, the way I used to laugh about it all, brushing it off as fun, as easy money. The faces of men, much older than me, flash in my mind—predatory smiles, the way their hands lingered too long. I always thought it didn’t matter, that it wouldn’t follow me. But now, it’s back. And it’s here to destroy me.My legs feel weak as I stumble to the bed, collap
I sway my hips in time with the soft rhythm of my humming as I sort through the pile of clothes scattered across my bed. My fingers skim over fabrics, from silks to cottons, as I try to pick the perfect outfit for tonight. A grin tugs at my lips as I imagine Kassian’s face when he sees me. This is our first official date as a couple, and the butterflies in my stomach haven’t stopped fluttering all day.The past few days have been nothing short of bliss. I never realized how wonderful it could feel to be with someone you genuinely care about—someone who reciprocates those feelings in their own unique way. Kassian’s not the kind of man who showers me with flowery compliments or over-the-top romantic or flirty gestures, but there’s something so steady, so real, about the way he cares. He checks in on me constantly, making sure I’ve eaten or that I’m safe, even if it’s just a quick text.He’s awkward sometimes—cold, even—but that bluntness is something I’ve grown to love. It’s honest. Gen
The wind whispers through the forest, weaving through the towering trees like an ancient song. It carries with it the cool scent of earth, damp wood, and faintly sweet blooms from unseen wildflowers. Above, the sky is a vast, endless canvas of deep indigo, littered with stars that twinkle like scattered diamonds. The moon, full and radiant, bathes the forest in a luminous silver glow, its light shimmering on the canopy of leaves and illuminating the houses nestled within the great, thick trunks of the trees.Each house glows faintly where the moonlight touches the magic stones embedded in their doors, casting soft hues of blue, purple, and green into the night. The stones pulse gently, like steady heartbeats, their magic mingling with the serenity of the night.At the heart of the forest, the moon shines brightest upon the grandest of structures—a castle, carved into the largest tree of them all. The natural architecture is breathtaking, its design seamless and organic, as though the
I look at him, wide-eyed, but his eyes are still closed. “You shouldn’t feel up a man if you’re not ready for the consequences,” he teases, his voice a little rougher than usual.Mortified but not about to let him have the upper hand, I retort, lifting my chin and trying to sound confident despite the heat rushing to my face. “A man can’t lay so vulnerably next to a beast and not expect to get pounced on.”His eyes flutter open then, and my breath catches. The sunlight pouring through the window catches in his amethyst eyes, making them shimmer and swirl like living gems. They’re brighter than I’ve ever seen them, almost glowing, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.He smiles, a lazy, playful grin that makes my heart skip a beat. “So, you think you’re a beast, huh?”Without missing a beat, I smirk back, wiping at my mouth in an exaggerated gesture. “A starving beast,” I say, letting my voice drop dramatically as I eye him like prey. “And you look way too delicious not to take a
I lie there stiffly, my body frozen, my mind racing as I try to make sense of the situation. My breathing is shallow, each exhale barely audible over the pounding of my heart, which feels like it’s trying to escape my chest. My senses are on overdrive—every nerve on edge, every sound amplified, every breath between us like a weight pressing down on me. I’m hyperaware of him beside me, his warmth radiating through the thin layer of space that separates us, his scent filling the air.I tell myself to calm down, to slow my racing thoughts and stop my panicked heart from thundering in my ears. Slowly, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, each breath slightly more controlled than the last. It helps, just a little.When my head feels a little clearer, I force myself to focus. My gaze drifts down, taking stock of myself. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I realize I’m in nothing but my underwear. I’m not completely naked—thank God—but that doesn’t make me feel much bett
The meadow stretches endlessly before me, a vast sea of wildflowers swaying with the gentle rhythm of the wind. I’m sitting on a small rise, my knees pulled tightly to my chest, arms wrapped around them, as if anchoring myself to the serenity of this place. The sun bathes my skin in warmth, its golden light soft and soothing, while the breeze whispers through the air, rustling the flowers in waves that look like an endless, rippling ocean of color.I close my eyes and inhale deeply, letting the scents wash over me—a blend of sweetness, earthiness, and something distinctly alive. It’s intoxicating, grounding me in a way that feels like this meadow was made just for me. The soft fabric of my cream-colored dress brushes against my legs as I lower them, the georgette featherlight and almost teasing against my skin. I lean back, pressing my hands into the soft earth for support, and tilt my face to the sun. The warmth sinks deeper into me, and I let the soft hum of the breeze fill my ears,
My throat tightens painfully, guilt crashing over me like a wave. I want to say more, to fix the crack in her voice, but the words stick, heavy and immovable. I glance at her hands again, noticing how her fingers clutch the wheel just a little too tightly, her knuckles pale against the black leather.“Lynette,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Park the car first.”She doesn’t argue, doesn’t say a word. The car glides into a space near the house, the engine quieting to a low rumble before she switches it off. For a moment, neither of us moves. The air feels thick, heavy with unsaid words and emotions.Her hands fall from the wheel to her lap, and she turns her head slightly—not toward me, but toward the window. Her body is tense, her posture rigid, and the scent of her sadness—of her fear—grows stronger, filling the small space between us.My chest aches as I watch her, the sunlight catching the faint sheen of unshed tears in her ocean-green eyes. She doesn’t look at me,