His tone turned grave, “Did you just try to weaken me, Margaret?” Levi asked, his eyes never leaving hers. Margaret swallowed; she couldn't afford to be scared because if she did, she would appear weak and vulnerable like every other human he had encountered.“I asked you a question.” Levi’s voice grew dark, shrouding the entire room with tension and unease.Just then, the microwave timer set off, its beeping sound subtly startling Margaret. She turned to the microwave, then back at Levi. She mentally calmed herself and made herself believe she needed him and wouldn't hurt her. Then she responded, her tone calm and serene, “I didn't.” She answered curtly but firmly. She then turned away from him and proceeded to take out her food from the microwave, resisting the urge to look over her shoulders for impending danger.Once she took out the food and grabbed a spoon, she turned around to face him. “Ever since I learned about… your kind, both real and fake, I've been adding wolfsbane to m
After the declaration of the Silversmith Werewolf Hunters being part of the plan to find Nicholas, “No.” One word was Levi's response. “No.” He repeated in a low, gravelly tone confusing Margaret all the more.Margaret's eyes widened, her voice laced with frustration. “What are you saying? You can't just dismiss this plan without a reason!”“No, Margaret.” Levi countered, his tone unyielding. “You think I didn't think of that already? Leave the Silversmith hunters out of this. My answer is No.”Margaret's hands slapped against the map, her fingers splayed. “No? Why? You're not even considering—” Her brow knotted, her lips pursed. “You're being obstinate. What's driving this refusal?”Levi leaned back onto the couch, his eyes narrowing, “My way is better. And that's all you need to know.""Your way? Do you mean killing everything that crosses you? That's not a plan, Levi! You're wasting time.” Margaret's voice rose, her words tumbling out.Levi shrugged, his voice even. “It's worked s
Wednesday, 9:00 am. At a cafe.The warm sunlight cast a gentle glow over the outdoor section of the cozy cafe, where Sheila sat sipping her coffee, her eyes fixed on the screen of her phone. Her thumb scrolled mindlessly through social media updates, a habitual gesture to pass the time as she waited for her old friend to show up with her most anticipated information.Sheila's gaze drifted periodically to the street, scanning the passing crowd for Jerry's familiar face, his silver laid-back hair, his rugged posture, and his usual all-black ‘mafia-themed attire.The sound of footsteps and the clinking of cups across tables signaled the arrival of new patrons. But Sheila's attention hovered around the outdoor entrance of the cafe, her eyes locking onto every man, hoping to spot Jerry’s familiar face.Just as Sheila's patience was starting to boil over, a figure emerged from the morning bustle and stood before her table. Sheila’s gaze rose to meet a man in his mid-twenties, in an edgy but
Tom took a bite of his croissant, shutting his eyes as he began chewing on it, savoring the taste. “This is good, this deserves a tip,” he remarked.Sheila’s frustration and annoyance were simmering, and it was evident on her face as she watched Tom devour the croissant with pleasure. “You should order one for yourself,” Tom said, glancing at Sheila as he took another bite.“Are you fucking serious?” She hurled, her irritation palpable. “Tom, tell me what I need to know.” She demanded, her face stern.“Fine,” Tom said reluctantly, wiping his mouth with a napkin.“Many centuries ago,” he began. “When witches still existed and were hunted and burned alive, the town, Anavrin, was known as the Kanaan. It used to be the promised land for witches where they had fled to and was protected by a powerful sorcerer. Most of the escaped witches were also seers who saw their doom before it happened. However, it was not just this sorcerer that protected these surviving witches. The rulers and peopl
It was another crisp dawn in Nicholas's mansion, the golden rays of light from the setting sun, illuminating the mansion’s opulent facade. Kimberly, the newly crowned Beta, who also was no longer referred to as a newbie werewolf. She had now grown accustomed to the mansion's labyrinthine corridors, its inhabitants, and its daily schedule. The once-daunting estate now felt like home —a home she wished she'd grown up in and always had. Despite the hostility towards her and side talks from a few pack members, Kimberly refused to be cajoled into inferiority as she always held her head up high whenever she passed by. She was the Beta of the pack anyway.As she got out of bed and went about her morning routine, her thoughts centered on the day's training session with Alpha Nicholas. Their sessions had become a highlight of her day, pushing her limits and honing her skills. Kimberly's determination to prove herself as a worthy Beta burned brighter with each passing day.For three consecuti
Kimberly's eyes were enormous at the captivating sight of his sculpted physique, hidden beneath his usual black long-sleeved shirts. This was a side of Nicholas she had never seen —half naked and dripping wet. His rugged beauty, which even looked better without clothes on, left her awestruck. She swallowed, eyeing his chest. This man was magnificently crafted, she thought.Kimberly's gaze drifted downward, following the tiny rivulets of water as they trickled from Nicholas's face to his bare chest. Her eyes lingered, then settled on the tattoo etched into his skin – a majestic wolf, its details eerily familiar. It was the same image that adorned the portraits in the hallway, a symbol she had often wondered about. Now, seeing it on Nicholas's body, it seemed to hold a deeper significance.Kimberly's gaze roamed over Nicholas's chiseled physique - his bulky arms, defined chest, and sculpted abs. She swallowed hard, her eyes lingering a moment too long. Suddenly, his icy voice shattere
Kimberly's eyes darted around the dungeon, her heart racing with trepidation. The large, underground vault-like room had grey stone walls and a dark granite floor. Soft, golden light from modern torches illuminated the space, casting gentle but eerie shadows.The room was sparse, with only a few features breaking the simplicity. The thick, brass chains that were anchored to the floor caught her attention. But it wasn't just the chain that made her stomach churn with unease; it was the multiple grisly claw marks that marred the stones around it. Her eyes then narrowed to a circular mark that was etched into the center of the room, surrounded by intricate symbols. Similar gashes marred the walls, a testament to the transformative power that unfolded within.Across from where she stood, a sturdy, iron-reinforced door secured with electronic locks and bolts led to a narrow corridor. The air was cool and still, with a subtle calmness that belied the room's purpose. Soft, golden light from
Ignoring the utterly perplexed Kimberly whose anxiety was creeping in, Nicholas finished dressing up, his movements swift and efficient. Although he had warned her never to be in his room again, he seemed to have no problem having her there as he went about his business. Having worn his footwear, he sauntered to the long dresser table in the middle of the expensive and deluxe closet, where his watches, deodorant perfumes, and several other various fashion accessories were placed in an orderly manner. He picked up one of his perfumes and sprayed it on his clothes, then picked up another and sprayed it on his neck, behind his ears, and then under his wrists.Simultaneously, Kimberly's senses became completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma of Nicholas's perfume, her werewolf senses heightened to the point where she could discern the subtlest notes of bergamot, lavender, and cedarwood.As the fragrance enveloped her, Kimberly's senses went into overdrive. Although it wasn't the f