Rachel remembered his physique. Though she hadn't seen his face, Yurielle knew that it was him. The man that turned into a wolf. Out from the dim illumination, she could see the gleaming pair of his sharp canine, the tip of his bloodied razor claws. It was real, the beast she thought was a figment of her imagination was real, and she didn’t just see things out of hunger. Slowly, he strode closer to her. Her heart pounded hard on her chest in fear at the thought that this would be the last moment of her life. That she will die in the hands of a beast, and no one will ever know that a beast murdered her. Her lungs were stinging from a sudden intake of breath. Her chest constricted as her heart pounded like an impact drill against her rib cage. Cold sweat broke from the side of her head as she stared at the man that came out directly from her nightmare. “Please don’t kill me,” she cowered, prompting her elbows to push her upper body upright, kicking her legs in an attempt to drag
Discovering her strengths and weaknesses, as well as her flaws, and coming to terms with who she is. “If there is anything else you want to know about her, please let me know.” Mr. Kahl prompted, taking him out of his bubble of thoughts about his beautiful mate. “No, that is all there is to it.” “Okay, bye—” Dylan clicks the end button of his phone and focuses his gaze on the road stretching ahead of him while his mind is consumed by his mate. She was well aware of who he was. She had seen him kill those men who assaulted her. She might have been terrified of him at first glance, but he never caught a glimpse of the rejection in her eyes. Dylan knew that she was also feeling the same way to him. The way her breath caught in her throat when she looked at him, and the way her heart raced wildly inside her chest when he drew her closer to him. The melodious drumbeat of her heart is like a song that has become stuck in his head, and he can't seem to get enough of listening to it.
To start up with his day, he immediately went to his bathroom and took a shower, readying himself for his office. As much as he wanted to spend this day following his mate around, Dylan couldn’t afford to set aside his work. There are a lot of people depending on his company. Thousands of families will get affected if he lets his emotions get the best of him. He still needs to focus on it, maximizing the time to do what is required to be done. So, then he could do whatever he wanted to do. Finally dressing up with his casual business attire, Dylan took a flight downstairs towards the dining area. Stacy was already there, eating pancakes and bacon for her breakfast and getting ready for school as well. Sensing his arrival, the girl lifted her head with her brows instantly went up in bafflement. Hence, he ignored her reaction and pulled a chair for himself, and sat down across from her. “Don’t your face strain too much?” She suddenly blurted out of the blue, lowering the spoon sh
She is not a Muslim, but she lives in an Islamic country where it is forbidden for all women to dress in a liberated manner. It is definitely new to her, though she isn’t complaining. Lorelei also put on her makeup, which was coordinated with her outfit. Her hair had been brushed down, highlighting the wavy curls at the end of her hair that cascaded just above her waistline. “You’re so beautiful!” Gazing herself in the mirror, Lorelei beamed up behind her. Her friend also wore a satin olive-green short dress with a plunging v neckline, hugging her curves so perfectly that, accenting her beautiful black skin and paired up with nude color killer heels lacing up through her knees. Lorelei also set her hair into a natural mess. “You too.” She replied, all too thrilled for this night to get started. “Shall we go outside? I can’t wait for Craig’s reaction to see us both.” Her friend suggested, taking her by the wrist and dragging her outside the room. Lorelei went out first, jumpin
His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel so tight as he weaved through the busy street of Bunga. His wolf snorted with rage, clawing inside him, wanting to be let out and take things on its own, and Dylan struggled to keep him at bay. Throughout the sequence of traffic lights, his patience is wearing thin and he is losing his cool. He’s worried that through the span of time that he was still traveling, something might happen to his mate, same with the incident through the dark alleyway. ‘Isn’t she thinking?’ He muttered to himself as he slammed the brakes as the pub came into view, causing his car to drift sideways instead of parking it properly. He hurriedly stepped out of his car and shut the door with a loud thud, paving his way through the entranceway. Loud sound blaring in his ears, just like when he picked up Stacey the last time. The strong scent of mixed smell assaulted his nostrils, making him hold his breath for the longest time until he came to a spot
He strode around towards the driver’s seat and climbed inside his car. He threw his mate one quick glance before he started the engine and drove away from the pub. She was leaning on the window. Her feet extended fully on the car’s floor. Her eyes were closed, but it didn’t seem that she was sleeping. She moves every now and then. His car's interior was filled with the scent of her, which was mingled with alcohol. It occurred to him that he should return home, but he quickly realized that Stacey would only exacerbate the situation if she saw Rachel. Eventually, Dylan decided to take her to her small apartment, where she had been staying. He wonders if how Rachel was taking in everything that she had seen in that alleyway. She called him a beast earlier in the pub. Had he been wrong about thinking that she accepted him? That she wasn’t scared of him? What if she rejects him? A twist of pain run through his body at the mere thought of it. “Hmm,” Dylan's attention was drawn to Rac
However, Rachel got her stubbornness mingled with the residue of intoxication that was still coursing through her veins and only scoff at him. “No, Mr. Wolfman. I can go home all by myself. I can take a cab, and...” She was about to reach for something on her side when she realized it was empty, mumbling to herself as she scratched the back of her head. “Oh, Lorelei has my purse.” “Now, get in the car, Rachie. We are on a desolated road. No taxis are going this way.” Dylan only huffed out his amusement upon seeing the disappointment on her face, knowing that she had lost their meager argument. “Fine.” She rolled her eyes on him and stomped her way back inside the car, slamming the door close with a loud bang. Dylan only shakes his head in disbelief, a laugh that earns its way out from him as he sprints towards the driver’s seat. He’s actually worried about what his house would be like once he put her and Stacey in one room. Helen would probably be laughing her butts off watch
Dylan couldn’t believe that most of her things here didn’t work. How can she live in a place like this? Ruffling his hair, he fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed some numbers on it, punching the call button. “Hello, Mr. Reed, how can I help you at this time of night?” A woman’s voice came through the other line after his call rang for a few seconds. “Grace, find me a new refrigerator, fill it with supplies, run through the groceries, take everything that a kitchen needs. Then find me a collapsible bathtub and room heater. I'll send you the address on where it is going to be delivered.” He said without wasting any moments to pass, all the while rubbing his forehead and pacing back and forth at the center of the room. “When would you like me to get it ready?” Dylan paused for a moment and looked down on his watch, seeing that it had already struck midnight. Hoping that there will be more time before Rachel will rouse and go sober. “Now. I want it delivered before th
Rachel gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles pale against the wood. “She wasn’t alone.”Dylan raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “You mean at the execution?”Rachel nodded slowly. “Someone was there. A man. Tall. Cloaked in gold and black. He stood behind the crowd. He never moved. Just… watched.”Nyra leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “The Executioner?”“No,” Rachel said firmly. “She didn’t fear him. She looked right at him. Not with fear. With *recognition*. She *knew* him. Right before the flames reached her, she found him in the crowd.”“What did she say?” Dylan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Rachel's throat tightened, but she forced the words out. “She whispered… ‘You were supposed to protect me.’”Dylan’s jaw clenched, and his fists tightened at his sides. “Who the hell was he?”“I don’t know,” Rachel said, voice quiet. “But I’ve seen his eyes before. Not in the memory. Recently.”Nyra froze. “Describe them.”Rachel met her gaze, the image burned into her mind.
“You said she touched you?” Dylan asked, crouching in front of Stacy, his voice low but urgent.Stacy sat on the penthouse couch, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes wide. “I didn’t even see her. I just… felt something. Cold. Like something brushed the back of my neck.”Rachel sat beside her, gripping her hand. “You’re sure it wasn’t your imagination?”“She whispered something,” Stacy said. “I don’t know what it was, but I felt it inside my head.”Dylan turned to Nyra. “Can she mark someone mentally?”Nyra frowned. “Not in the way a wolf marks. But she can tether her presence to a person’s aura.”Rachel blinked. “So she’s… what? Watching her?”Nyra hesitated. “Or waiting.”Dylan stood. “I need to know what she did. Scan her.”Stacy recoiled. “Scan me? What—like magic MRI?”Nyra crouched slowly. “Close enough. I won’t hurt you.”Stacy looked at Rachel.Rachel nodded. “It’s okay.”Nyra reached forward, placing two fingers against Stacy’s temple. Her eyes fluttered shut. A soft silver gl
The halls were quiet. Too quiet. Dylan moved through them fast, his black coat billowing behind him. Nyra flanked his left, her palm already glowing faintly with silver runes. A silent alert had come from one of Dylan’s hidden security failsafes—one he’d embedded into Stacy’s school locker months ago without telling her. “Cameras went dead five minutes ago,” he said. “Magical interference,” Nyra replied. “She’s masking herself.” “I can still smell her.” They turned the final corner—and stopped cold. The woman in crimson stood at the end of the hallway, heels clicking slowly on the tile, her hair coiled high, her lips painted blood. She was alone. Or so it seemed. Dylan’s jaw clenched. “Where’s Stacy?” The woman smiled. “Safe.” “You don’t get to be near her.” “You brought her into this,” she replied. “Not me.” Nyra stepped forward. “You’ve crossed a line.” The woman’s smile widened. “Have I? Or has she?” Her gaze turned sharper. “The girl who wears Elira’s
Stacy paced the length of her room, the old journal clutched in her hands. Her fingers trembled as she flipped back to the first page—the one with the name she still couldn’t believe was real. *Elira.* The woman Rachel was supposed to be. The woman who once wrote: *“If the wolf finds me again, I’ll destroy him.”* Her throat tightened. Dylan wasn’t just hiding the truth about Rachel—he was hiding something from *her*, too. Something from before she ever came into his life. With a sharp breath, she marched toward the door. Rachel sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest. The memory of her own reflection smiling back at her haunted her like a shadow she couldn’t shake. She’d checked the mirror three more times since, and every time, the face staring back was hers. And yet… not. Nyra sat cross-legged on the floor, humming softly as she drew symbols in chalk on the marble. Dylan paced by the window. When Stacy walked in holding the journal, all three of them t
“You’re sure it’s her?” Dylan asked. Nyra didn’t blink. “I felt her magic. She’s here. In Bunga.” Rachel stepped forward. “You said she’s not alone. Who’s with her?” Nyra looked between them. “Someone older. Stronger.” “Stronger than her?” Dylan asked. Nyra nodded. “He carries the scent of ancient blood. Something that shouldn’t exist.” Rachel swallowed. “Do they want me?” Nyra’s eyes narrowed. “They want to *awaken* you.” “I thought I was already awakening,” Rachel said. “Not fully,” Nyra replied. “They want to force it.” “What happens if they do?” Dylan asked. Nyra looked at Rachel. “She loses control.” --- The woman in crimson kneeled before a man cloaked in shadow. His eyes were molten gold, face hidden beneath a hood. “She’s resisting,” she said. “She won’t for long.” “She’s bonded to the wolf.” “I know.” “Should we separate them?” The man smiled. “No. Let him watch her become something he can’t control.” --- Rachel paced. “So what do I do
Stacy crept around the side of the rusted warehouse, hoodie up, breath shallow. The tracking app on her phone blinked steadily. Dylan was inside. But why? He told her this place had been shut down. She slid closer, boots crunching lightly on gravel, and pressed herself against the side door. Faint voices filtered through the metal. She tilted her head. “Is it confirmed?” a deep voice said. “Not yet,” came Dylan’s voice. “But she’s showing signs.” Stacy frowned. “You’re sure she’s the one?” “Yes,” Dylan replied. “The woman in crimson marked her.” Stacy’s eyes narrowed. Rachel? They were talking about Rachel. “She’s dangerous, Dylan,” the other man said. “She’s not,” Dylan shot back. “She’s Elira’s blood.” Stacy gasped. Elira? She backed away quietly, but her elbow brushed against a hanging chain. It clanked loudly. Inside, the voices went silent. Dylan’s voice rose. “Someone’s outside.” Panic surged. Stacy bolted, running for the tree line. A second
“You’re telling me I’m some kind of magical bloodline?” Rachel asked, pacing the room in a circle, her voice rising. “That I’m… Elira?” Dylan stood at the center of the room, shirtless, bruised from the earlier impact. “I didn’t know,” he said evenly. “I swear.” “You didn’t *know*?” She spun on him. “You’ve been alive for centuries, Dylan! You know things no one else does. You can’t tell me that name means nothing.” “I told you,” he said, jaw tight, “Elira is a name from the old world. The Moon’s chosen. A line of women who could bind the supernatural with just a whisper. But they were wiped out. Hunted.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “Hunted… why?” “They were too powerful. The Council saw them as a threat. Some say they sided with the darkness. Others believe they were protectors. Either way, both sides feared them.” “And you never thought—never *felt*—that maybe I was—” “No,” he said, stepping forward. “When I met you, all I felt was the mate bond. That’s it.” She stared at
Rachel stood by the tall glass window of Dylan’s penthouse, arms wrapped around herself as she stared down at the glittering lights of Bunga City. The night buzzed below like an unspoken warning. But all she could think about was the woman in crimson—the way she looked at her, the chill in her words.“You smell… interesting.”Even now, the memory sent goosebumps racing across her arms. It wasn’t just what she said. It was how she said it. As if Rachel wasn’t a person, but prey. Something to be claimed… or consumed.The sound of Dylan’s voice broke her thoughts. He was on the phone in the next room, his tone clipped, measured. Protective. Since bringing her back, he hadn’t let her out of his sight.“No. I don’t care if the Council demands an answer,” he growled. “If they want a report, they can come to me directly. I’m not leaving her unguarded.”A pause.“Triple the security. I want one team on the perimeter, one in the shadows, and a third monitoring every magical ripple within a ten
Dylan knew something was wrong the moment his phone buzzed in his pocket. He had just stepped out of a shareholder video call when the device vibrated against his thigh with a ping that set his instincts on high alert. He pulled it out and saw a message—not from Rachel, not from Grace, and not from any of his staff. It was from one of his private surveillance agents positioned near the coffee shop.**“Unidentified female—possible supernatural. Engaged brief interaction with subject Dockham. Leaving scene now.”**Dylan’s jaw locked.It had only been a day.A single day since Rachel accepted him.And already, something—or someone—had caught her scent.He didn't hesitate. He called the underground garage, ordered the car, and was out of the building in less than two minutes.---At the café, Rachel tried to shake off the cold dread left in the woman’s wake, but it clung to her skin like the chill of a ghost's breath. She wiped her damp palms on her apron and tried to resume her task, but