INGRID“Mmh.. what is that smell?” Kira’s voice jolts me awake.I open my eyes slowly, disoriented for a moment.I look down and notice I’m still wrapped in a towel, lying above the comforter where I must have passed out after soaking my body in bath salts for almost an hour.My body feels relaxed, but my senses are immediately drawn to the sweet, mouthwatering scent wafting through the air.I sit up, stretch my feet out of bed, and yawn. Kira’s right, something smells heavenly.I drag myself to the dusty closet and open it only to find a surprising assortment of clothes that happen to be my size.I sift through them quickly and pick out a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans, brush my hair, and tie it into a high ponytail.This somewhat makes me feel human again.I head downstairs, my bare feet silent against the old floorboards. The scent grows stronger with every step until I find myself standing at the threshold of the kitchen.Lucian is there, in the middle of the room, sleeves rol
LUCIANSleeping next to Ingrid turns out to be one of the worst ideas I’ve had in a long time.The moment I heard her quietly slip into the bed, my heart started pounding, and I could feel the sweat gathering on my back under the sheets.She isn’t anywhere near me; she had made sure to lie as far as possible, but it doesn’t matter. My body still betrays me, aching for her in ways I can’t control.I close my eyes and try to focus on getting some rest. I toss, turn, and even count to a thousand in my head.Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drift into a shallow sleep. But it doesn’t last.I am jolted awake by sounds. Soft, pained whimpers coming from her side of the bed.I blink my eyes open in the darkness and switch on the bedside lamp.Ingrid looks restless.Her head keeps thrashing lightly from side to side, her fingers clawing at the headboard. She moves her legs as if she is trying to escape something. She must be trapped in a nightmare.I slide closer to her and gently place a h
INGRID.I hadn’t laughed like that in such a long time.It was refreshing seeing Lucian freak out like that, mainly because he always looks so uptight and in control. Like nothing could ever catch him off guard.But somehow... I did.After breakfast, he heads back upstairs, and I remain behind to clear the kitchen and wash the dishes just in case we need them later.Once I’m done, I decide to explore the house a little more, especially if we’re going to be stuck here longer than planned.I start on the ground floor, wandering from room to room, admiring the furniture and the paintings on the walls.They are everywhere. Like his parents were obsessed with art or something.Everything in this house looks custom made. Handcrafted and one of a kind. The other houses Lucian owns don’t come close to this.I make it to the end of the hallway and spot a narrow staircase leading down to what must be the basement.Curious, I head down to see the wine cellar Lucian mentioned to me.At the bottom
LUCIAN"So, who is Thomas Blackwood?" Lucian asks, pointing to the name scrawled at the bottom of the parchment.I stretch out my hand, pick up the hunter's manual, and place it in front of him."Probably the same man who wrote this," I mutter, my eyes flicking between the book and the letter.Lucian opens the manual and begins flipping through its pages, starting slowly and then speeding up.With every line he reads, I see the shift in his expression. His jaw clenches, and his hands curl into fists, followed by his eyes beginning to burn red with fury."They did all these things to me, Ingrid, everything written in this book," he blurts, slamming the book shut.I nod silently, sympathizing with him."Is he the author?" Lucian asks, his eyes locking with mine.I shake my head quickly. "No. But I think... his father was."Lucian jolts up so fast his chair screeches backward.He slams his hand down on the desk with force that a cloud of dust bursts into the air.I cough as it fills my l
LUCIAN.I couldn’t believe what I was reading.Each page felt like a dagger to the heart — like I was being dragged deeper into a truth I never asked for.At first, I told myself the journals were just stories. Just fiction. Maybe even training manuals or old records from long ago.But the moment I read the words rogues and torture, the denial started to crumble.Page after page, it got worse.They had brought in a hunter and made a deal with him.His job was to “reform” the rogues or eliminate them if they were too violent. As if reforming ever meant to torture.I start to imagine how they might have convinced themselves they were doing it for the good of the pack. For peace, even order.But peace doesn’t come from pain. And order can never be built on blood.After Ingrid left the room, I found myself sifting through the letters and the rest of the journals she had tried to show me earlier — the ones I refused to believe.Among them, I found another journal.This one was my mother’s.
LUCIANI gaze down at her, both of us frozen in the moment.Slowly, I tilt my head down, our foreheads coming together. I lean in closer, waiting for her to make the first move, just to be sure she desires me as much as I crave her.My lips hover just above hers as we share shallow breaths."Are you going to kiss me or not, Lucian?" she barks out, impatient. I don't waste another second; my mouth meets hers, and I kiss her with desperate urgency.My hands move to the back of her neck, closing the remaining distance between us, and in response, her hands find their way to my back, grasping tightly enough for me to feel her nails digging in.Today, she's different from the other day; she is hungrier for me, which only fuels my own desire.I spin her around and pin her against the pool wall, my fingers slowly sliding up her inner thighs.She lets out a small moan and spreads her legs, granting me permission.I slip a finger beneath her panties, and tease her by gently caressing her clit.
INGRID“Ingrid, look out!” My father, Silas Blackwood, yells, and I duck, barely avoiding my brother's fist. Logan’s knuckles slice through the air where my face had been a second ago, and he trips, almost hitting the ground."Come on, Dad, you could’ve let me punch her," Logan hisses, his smirk widening like he enjoys the idea of bruising me."Why do I have to train today?" I grumble, straightening up and dusting off my sleeves. "Why am I even going with you guys?"My father’s expression darkens, and he stares at me with his sharp, calculating eyes."Ingrid, your time to sit back and watch is over. You’re joining the hunt tonight."I stiffen. "But Dad, I haven’t opened my bakery in two days! My customers—"."Don’t make me tear down that little place of yours." He interrupts before I can finish, his voice low and dangerous."We had a deal. Train. Hunt. And I’ll let you keep that little bakery. Do you want me to reconsider our arrangement?" He asks tilting his head, daring me to push h
"Dad, I think this is a trap," I blurt, my voice barely audible.Logan hears me first, and his body stiffens as he carefully turns in my direction. My father follows his gaze.Before either of them can respond, the night erupts."Attack!" my father roars.Gunshots explode in the darkness. Grenades detonate with deafening booms, sending shockwaves through the trees. The acrid scent of gunpowder fills the air, mingling with the unmistakable stench of blood.I try to aim my arrow, but I can’t see through the chaos. Shadows dart between trees. Growls rip through the night, and bodies collide. The sound of tearing flesh and agonized screams sends ice through my veins.Having no clear shot, I am left with only one option. To run.I turn and sprint, letting my legs pound against the earth as I race back the way we came. I don’t look back for even a second.Branches whip against my face, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely hear the screams behind me.I stumble and crash to the ground wit
LUCIANI gaze down at her, both of us frozen in the moment.Slowly, I tilt my head down, our foreheads coming together. I lean in closer, waiting for her to make the first move, just to be sure she desires me as much as I crave her.My lips hover just above hers as we share shallow breaths."Are you going to kiss me or not, Lucian?" she barks out, impatient. I don't waste another second; my mouth meets hers, and I kiss her with desperate urgency.My hands move to the back of her neck, closing the remaining distance between us, and in response, her hands find their way to my back, grasping tightly enough for me to feel her nails digging in.Today, she's different from the other day; she is hungrier for me, which only fuels my own desire.I spin her around and pin her against the pool wall, my fingers slowly sliding up her inner thighs.She lets out a small moan and spreads her legs, granting me permission.I slip a finger beneath her panties, and tease her by gently caressing her clit.
LUCIAN.I couldn’t believe what I was reading.Each page felt like a dagger to the heart — like I was being dragged deeper into a truth I never asked for.At first, I told myself the journals were just stories. Just fiction. Maybe even training manuals or old records from long ago.But the moment I read the words rogues and torture, the denial started to crumble.Page after page, it got worse.They had brought in a hunter and made a deal with him.His job was to “reform” the rogues or eliminate them if they were too violent. As if reforming ever meant to torture.I start to imagine how they might have convinced themselves they were doing it for the good of the pack. For peace, even order.But peace doesn’t come from pain. And order can never be built on blood.After Ingrid left the room, I found myself sifting through the letters and the rest of the journals she had tried to show me earlier — the ones I refused to believe.Among them, I found another journal.This one was my mother’s.
LUCIAN"So, who is Thomas Blackwood?" Lucian asks, pointing to the name scrawled at the bottom of the parchment.I stretch out my hand, pick up the hunter's manual, and place it in front of him."Probably the same man who wrote this," I mutter, my eyes flicking between the book and the letter.Lucian opens the manual and begins flipping through its pages, starting slowly and then speeding up.With every line he reads, I see the shift in his expression. His jaw clenches, and his hands curl into fists, followed by his eyes beginning to burn red with fury."They did all these things to me, Ingrid, everything written in this book," he blurts, slamming the book shut.I nod silently, sympathizing with him."Is he the author?" Lucian asks, his eyes locking with mine.I shake my head quickly. "No. But I think... his father was."Lucian jolts up so fast his chair screeches backward.He slams his hand down on the desk with force that a cloud of dust bursts into the air.I cough as it fills my l
INGRID.I hadn’t laughed like that in such a long time.It was refreshing seeing Lucian freak out like that, mainly because he always looks so uptight and in control. Like nothing could ever catch him off guard.But somehow... I did.After breakfast, he heads back upstairs, and I remain behind to clear the kitchen and wash the dishes just in case we need them later.Once I’m done, I decide to explore the house a little more, especially if we’re going to be stuck here longer than planned.I start on the ground floor, wandering from room to room, admiring the furniture and the paintings on the walls.They are everywhere. Like his parents were obsessed with art or something.Everything in this house looks custom made. Handcrafted and one of a kind. The other houses Lucian owns don’t come close to this.I make it to the end of the hallway and spot a narrow staircase leading down to what must be the basement.Curious, I head down to see the wine cellar Lucian mentioned to me.At the bottom
LUCIANSleeping next to Ingrid turns out to be one of the worst ideas I’ve had in a long time.The moment I heard her quietly slip into the bed, my heart started pounding, and I could feel the sweat gathering on my back under the sheets.She isn’t anywhere near me; she had made sure to lie as far as possible, but it doesn’t matter. My body still betrays me, aching for her in ways I can’t control.I close my eyes and try to focus on getting some rest. I toss, turn, and even count to a thousand in my head.Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drift into a shallow sleep. But it doesn’t last.I am jolted awake by sounds. Soft, pained whimpers coming from her side of the bed.I blink my eyes open in the darkness and switch on the bedside lamp.Ingrid looks restless.Her head keeps thrashing lightly from side to side, her fingers clawing at the headboard. She moves her legs as if she is trying to escape something. She must be trapped in a nightmare.I slide closer to her and gently place a h
INGRID“Mmh.. what is that smell?” Kira’s voice jolts me awake.I open my eyes slowly, disoriented for a moment.I look down and notice I’m still wrapped in a towel, lying above the comforter where I must have passed out after soaking my body in bath salts for almost an hour.My body feels relaxed, but my senses are immediately drawn to the sweet, mouthwatering scent wafting through the air.I sit up, stretch my feet out of bed, and yawn. Kira’s right, something smells heavenly.I drag myself to the dusty closet and open it only to find a surprising assortment of clothes that happen to be my size.I sift through them quickly and pick out a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans, brush my hair, and tie it into a high ponytail.This somewhat makes me feel human again.I head downstairs, my bare feet silent against the old floorboards. The scent grows stronger with every step until I find myself standing at the threshold of the kitchen.Lucian is there, in the middle of the room, sleeves rol
LUCIAN."How much further are we walking, Lucian? I'm tired," Ingrid whines from behind, her footsteps growing slower with each passing minute."We should have taken the truck," she adds with a frustrated sigh.I turn my head just enough to arch a brow at her, but don’t slow my pace.“That truck might have a tracker hidden somewhere, Ingrid,” I explain curtly, even though I had a few more times. “I can’t risk any of them finding us.”I don’t wait for her to argue back, I simply turn back around and keep moving, weaving between the trees."You haven’t even told me where we’re going," she points out after a few moments of heavy silence. "Is it to a motel or something?"I almost laugh, at how cute she is. Like I would sleep in some cheap motel.“No, not a motel,” I reply glancing at her over my shoulder. "I know somewhere better. Somewhere we can lie low for a few days until we can come up with a real plan."She falls silent for a few moments, and I think maybe she's given up complaining
INGRIDI see movement from where Lucian lies, and instinctively, I lean forward in my chair, my body tense, hoping he’s finally awake.I watch as his eyes flutter open, and relief floods through me like a crashing wave. I jolt from my seat and rush to his bedside, my heart pounding in my chest."How are you feeling? Have you healed?" I ask quickly, stretching out my hand toward his shoulder, desperate to check for myself.He shits, gritting his teeth slightly as he forces himself to sit up."Yes. I’ve healed." He mumbles.I give him a faint smile and nod, swallowing the lump of exhaustion caught in my throat."Good. That's good. You've been out for almost two days," I mutter, my voice coming out hoarse from lack of sleep.Lucian arches his brow, clearly surprised. "You haven’t slept the whole time?" he asks, concern laced in his voice.I sigh heavily, rubbing my tired eyes with my palm. "Someone had to keep watch... just in case," I respond casually, even though my body screams with f
INGRID."We're here," I pant, my voice barely above a whisper as I come to a halt in front of the old abandoned cabin.The place looks even more broken than I remembered—boards hanging loose, windows cracked, the front porch sagging like it might collapse under our weight."How do you know this place?" Lucian asks, his eyes scanning the woods, then flicking warily back to the cabin.I hesitate before answering, the old hurt rising like smoke in my chest."It's where I stayed when you chased me out of your territory," I blurt, my throat tightening.The words hang in the air for a moment, causing a little bit of tension.Lucian looks away in pretense, and changes the subject quickly."Are you sure it’s safe?" he asks, his hand pressing against his stomach almost instinctively."Yes," I respond quickly. "I'm sure, they probably think we’ve already left Shadow Ridge by now."I climb the creaking steps onto the porch and peek inside through a broken window. "It’s clear!" I call back. "No o