In a world of monsters, the real danger is falling for one. After the tragic loss of his fiancée, journalist Elliot Harper has spent years burying his pain behind the hard facts of his small town reporting. But when strange animal attacks and claw marks stir suspicion in his mountain community, Elliot is drawn to investigate... and he finds more than he bargained for. Elliot can't resist taking the injured man he finds in the woods to his cabin, just to discover that his new houseguest, Damien, holds a dark secret. Damien is a rogue werewolf, hunted by his own pack and bound by ancient laws that forbids him from mingling with humans. But how can he stay away from his own mate? As the two grow closer, their connection stirs something dangerous and powerful within them. But despite the thrill of uncovering the supernatural world, Elliot’s curiosity teens deadly when he learns that Damien’s past may be tied to the darkest moment of his own. Elliot must decide if he wants to confront his fears and embrace this new power he never wanted... or abandon Damien to the deadly pack that's closing in on them.
View MoreOne year after...Elliot.Fucking hell!What was wrong with me?I adjusted the collar of my shirt, a strange mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in my chest. That didn't stop me from sparing a glance at Damien, who stood beside me, hands stuffed into his pockets.My mate... plus husband, because sometime within the previous year, he had transitioned into my husband, exuded this sort of calm confidence, but I could see the tension in his posture.Slight tightening of the jaw, the way his fingers flexed occasionally? The signs were all there."You don't have to look so intimidating," I teased, nudging him gently. "We're not here for a pack meeting."On the days we had those, even I knew to steer clear for a few minutes to give him time to breathe. Those elders... well, they were a little intense on the poor guy.Damien shot me a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's not intimidating if this is my resting face."Sigh. His resting face was the one he ha
Elliot."... a feminine mate."The room fell silent, except for the faint crackle of the fire in the corner. Five pairs of expectant eyes rested on me, waiting for my compliance."No." The words slipped out of my mouth easily, followed by a breathless laugh that was so bitter it tasted like ash on my tongue.The tall, silver-haired elder frowned. “No?” I took a step forward, keeping voice steady. "No, I won't take a feminine mate, not when I have a mate already," I shot a glance at Damien, whose eyes just widened in alarm. "One I love, one I cherish, and one I would gladly die for if the need came up."I suppressed the chuckle in me as the elders exchanged uneasy glances, their masks slipping away.Not what they expected eh."My mate is Damien Blackthorn," I declared, the words echoing through the room like thunder. "And you're going to have to live with that."...silence.Then another elder, a squat man with a pale complexion, was the first to break it. "Damien is still illegitimat
Elliot.All I could was stare at Damien, my chest still heaving from the kiss that had shattered every coherent thought in my mind.Damn me!My lips still tingled from the contact, but my body rebelled against the intimacy, the closeness... the connection. I had no idea when I took a step back while shaking my head. "What the hell are you doing?" My voice was sharp, raw, and mixed with something I wasn't ready to name.Damien's jaw clenched, his eyes shadowed with defiance and something softer."You told me to do something," He repeated with puckered lips."Not that." I snapped at him with a cold tone. Why did it feel like I was splintering from the inside. "Do you think this is the right time for... for that?" I gestured at the air between us, trying my best to keep my hands from trembling.Damien didn’t answer immediately. I took another step back, my legs almost giving out beneath me. "I'm covered in blood, Damien. Asher's blood." My voice cracked, and all I could let out for th
Elliot.What had I done?The crowd's cheers and chants of "Golden Alpha" roared around me, but the sound felt distant... muffled as if I was underwater. Blood matted my fur, drying into a crust that stung with every movement.I stood still in the centre of the clearing, staring at Asher's lifeless body.I had done that. That was my work.Shouldn't I feel triumphant? That's what was expected of me now. But all I felt was a hollow pit in my chest, an ache that wouldn't subside.This pack members were so fast in turning away from the one alpha they had known all their lived. Did they even like him at all? Was he a cruel thing in their life?Guilt gnawed at me, sharp and insistent. Asher's blood was on my paws... on my teeth. I'd done the one thing I'd never do. Killed another man or wolf.And Damien... My eyes shifted to the man who certainly looked bigger now than before in the crowd, standing apart, shoulders hunched, eyes dark. Damien looked defeated, not victorious, as if Asher's d
Damien.I crouched low, panting, with blood soaked into my fur. I couldn't help but glare at Asher, who stood tall and smug, those dark eyes of his gleaming with cruel satisfaction."Just leave us alone," I screamed into his mind, making sure my voice was kept steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.Asher's ears flicked back, his snarl rumbling like thunder. His response came immediately, and it wasn't pretty."You think I'd let you walk away with the power of that crystal embedded into you just because you don't want to fight? You're a coward, Damien. A bastard trying to play hero."Fucking hell.I was already frustrated by his stubbornness at this point."This isn't about being a coward or a hero, Asher. I just want to end this madness once and for all... I'll find a way to give you the crystal so we can leave, and it's done."Asher bared his teeth. "You don't get to decide when this ends, big brother. I didn't work my entire life for this pack just to hand it to you? To a bast
Damien."Take it, and leave us alone."Asher practically snatched the crystal from my hand once he saw it, holding it aloft, those jagged edges slicked with blood staining his fingers.The crystal had this kind of eerie glow from within catching the sunlight and bringing some sort of sinister shadows across his face.He laughed, a cruel thing, slicing through the murmurs of the gathered crowd."Look at him," Asher sneered, turning to the elders, the guards, the pack. "The bastard my father should have drowned the moment he crawled out of his whore of a mother."My breath hitched, fury burning within me at those words.My mother wasn't a whore. She was just a victim of circumstances.He had no right.I stained against the silver shackles digging into my wrists, the metal scorching my skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the rage simmering in my veins."You've always been nothing, Damien," Asher continued, his words dripping with enough venom to wound me. "A stain on this pack fro
Damien.One of the worst things that could happen to a person is the inability to move.I couldn't move.My body screamed at me to act, to hell, but the silver of the shackles continued to say every ounce of strength I had left. The room became a blur of chaos, the coppery taste of fresh blood mixing with the charred scent of burning torches.My mate... Elliot was a whirlwind of gold and fury, tearing through the guard with a savagery that made even my sick in the head brother stumble back a step.“Kill him!” Asher roared, his voice cracking in uncharacteristic panic. “Stop that beast!” The remaining guard hesitated, fumbling for his weapon as Elliot rounded on him. He didn't even stand a chance. A single swipe of massive claws opened him from collarbone to hip, and his scream of pain ended in a gurgle as he choked on his own blood while crumpling to the floor.This was a horrible place. The screaming elder, on the other hand, had pressed himself against the far wall, eyes wide wit
Damien.The first thing I registered was the cold.It pressed against my back, so damp and unforgiving, seeping into my bones like ice. My skin felt raw where it touched the stone, aching with each shallow breath I took. The erratic pounding of my heart was even worse since it came with a steady drumbeat of pain, while the sharp scent of blood hung thick in the air...Metallic and bitter.My blood.I forced my eyes open, blinking against the haze clouding my vision. Shadows danced along the damp stone walls, cast by a single torch burning low. The flame sputtered, struggling for life, barely able to illuminate the ancient cracks webbing across the ceiling.I knew this place.This had been my father's prized possession, capable of tearing into the minds of anyone stupid enough to allow themselves to be brought here.The Blackthorn dungeon. A place carved deep into the earth. I'd been here before... years ago... when I was just a boy foolish enough to challenge one of those silly eld
Elliot.Fuck that little piece of nature.And why did it have to be so loud that it echoed louder than it should have in the unnatural stillness of this place. "Who's there?" Another guard echoed the first one words.They emerged from the shadows almost instantly... the three of them, moving like wolves who'd caught a scent. Their hands rested on their weapons–daggers strapped to their belts, one with a blade half-drawn. Running would be useless right now.Fiona stopped short, standing tall beside me as the nearest guard, a broad-shouldered man with a scar cutting from his temple to his jaw narrowed his eyes. These werewolves always seemed to be injured."Luna Fiona?" His voice was rough with disbelief, head tilting as he looked her over, eyes lingering on her dirt-streaked clothes.The second guard, a bit younger, exchanged a glance with the third. "What the hell are you doing here? And who..." his eyes flicked to me, then moved back to Fiona like I wasn't worth his time. "... who
Elliot. There was nothing more heartbreaking than working on the anniversary of your fiancee’s death. I stood by the kitchen window, my eyes fixed on the mountain view bathed in the early morning mist. It was as cold and unyielding as the five years since Janice’s death. Every morning began the same... coffee, silence, and the ache of what I lost. Most days, that was exactly how I liked it. “Harper, where’s my damn article?” A voice rang through the phone sitting next to me, breaking the quiet. Shit. I grabbed it, already rolling my eyes as I saw my editor’s name on the screen. I pressed the answer button. “Good morning to you too, Frank.” “No time for pleasantries. I need that piece on the roadwork finished today. The mayor’s been breathing down my neck about public safety since the logging trucks started using the main street. And don’t even get me started on the wildfire complaints” Frank was always the sweet one. And I enjoyed talking to him. “Roadwork? Thrilling.” I said ...
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