Elara's POV"Do you know how much I want you? You really don't. I want you so bad that I don't mind begging and pleading for you to take me like a wild animal. Unleash the beast. Oh fuck, I can't wait to have you inside of me." I said as I bit my lips.How doesn't he notice that I have always wanted him for a long time. Especially after our first night together. And now, the mate bond isn't even making things any better. I have never wanted anyone like I did him at that moment.Surprise colored his features after I spoke the words but his surprise couldn't overshadow my excitement. Instead it only made me more wet knowing my words could affect him. He was already rock hard, but I noticed the bulge in his pants twitch stemming from her pleasure ridden words, the pure naughtiness of them made his member pulse and strain against his pants and from all indications, he still wished to tease me some more, but he couldn't wait any longer.Because the next moment, he pulled my panties down in
Andrew's POVI quickly resumed pushing in slowly and it really helped that she was wet or it would have hurt a lot more. I continued my slow movements but soon forced my way through, embedding myself deep within her wetness.The pain was hair splitting but the huge amount of foreplay had helped. I quickly sensed her discomfort and stilled, giving her a chance to get used to being so full and stretched thin on my big cock.Elara took deep breaths and tried her best to adjust to the feeling quickly and when she was sure she had, she signalled me with a small moan and I began moving in her, slowly at first.In a matter of minutes, her painful moans had disappeared and was replaced with raw pleasure as I thrusted in and out of her in a gentle rhythm.I could already feel the build up inside me and it excited my wolf, but I refused to give into my primal instinct to take her at once.Elara moaned softly as she tried to get used to the wonderful feeling that her body was experiencing, she e
Elara’s POVI stirred to life, wrapping myself in the warmth of his embrace, content. My body was heavy, yet in a nurturing way, as if nothing outside this moment had any significance. A soft sensation with a gentle rhythm flowed across my shoulder: first soft, like a whisper of wind, then I recognized the rough texture of a fingertip tracing slow, delicate designs on my skin.A sleepy smile oozed across my face. I didn't need to open my eyes to know it was Andrew. The peculiar warmth of his touch, the regular rise and fall of his chest behind me, and the overwhelming pine and earth fragrance were all the reassurance I needed.I burrowed deeper into his chest, my head still spinning, and his arm pulled me closer to him, tighter, as if he wanted more of me, and his fingers stilled the playful patterns they'd been tracing."You're awake," he whispered, his deep voice rumbling through his chest, and something inside of me sizzled."Uhmmm," I replied, my voice muffled against his neck.I
Elara's POVI sat up against the headboard, knees tucked into my chest, hugging my arms over them defensively. The said and unsaid words of Andrew lay heavy and stiflingly between us. The speck of hope that had laced my heart sometime back now felt so cruelly joked about.Andrew, who lay beside me just a moment before, now sat up with his elbows to his knees, running his hands through his dark hair. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back, placing his hands behind his head and shutting his eyes-to appear bothered.And it grated on my nerves.I studied him, waiting for something, an answer, an explanation, anything that could give meaning to his behavior. But when it was obvious none was coming, my furrowed brows continued to capture the frustration growing inside me."Andrew," I softly yet firmly uttered, "why do you not want anyone to know we're mates?He refused to answer, further fuelling my frustration by his silence. When he finally opened his eyes, they weren't soft and w
Andrew's POVIt was a chillier night than I had anticipated as I walked back towards the central building, the cold wind cutting into me. The far-off howl of a wolf echoed through the trees, clearly a rogue but it was a reminder of what terrors lay beyond our borders.But tonight, the threats weren't out there alone, they were in here as well, within the pack mixed with the very life I was attempting to create with Elara.I shoved my hands into my pockets, my jaw clenched as my mind returned to her. Her kiss still lingered on my lips, a mix of many things but frustration among them.She didn't understand, not at all. How could she?How can I possibly say this to her?The truth now felt like a burden, a heavier one than any that I'd ever carried. Elara wasn't safe. Not just because there were already individuals who wished to harm her, but because of what she was—my mate.To make our union known to the pack would be to put a bull's-eye on her back. My enemies would recognize her as a w
Elara’s POVThe sun was dipping in the heavens, and the packhouse grounds were bathed in a warm, golden light. All was so serene, but I could not rid myself of the disquiet in my chest. Stepping outside, the chilly morning air struck me, bringing with it the smell of pine and wet earth.A hum of talk filled the air, and pack members one by one turned to greet me as I walked past them."Good morning, Elara," a young wolf said, smiling broadly."Thank you again for what you did," another said, lowering his head slightly.A small pack of wolves training nearby halted, offering me respectful nods.It was overwhelming.I had never been treated so respectfully since the day I was born. It all felt awkward and strange.I forced a polite smile and nodded in return, but each hello was a burden on my shoulders. They all thought I was a hero. They thought I had rescued them.But I wasn't a hero. I didn't attempt to rescue them. In fact, I attempted to kill them.My feet paused for a moment as gu
Andrew’s POVThe soft rustling of papers and the rhythmic ticking of the clock were the only sounds in my office as I sat behind my desk, buried in a mountain of paperwork. A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes from staring at contracts, land deeds, and reports for hours on end. Every now and then, I'd catch myself zoning out, my thoughts inevitably drifting to her.Elara.The stubborn woman, her name flitted like some vexing mosquito which refused to flee across my brain cells, though trying hardest to get consumed by it as I should: going through in my head over the plans that were for land expansion to further broaden my pack. How her lips, soft, caressed mine was all my troubled mind kept up with-how beautiful and striking she appeared last night-brown eyes that fired with both frustrations and desires.That memory alone was enough to give me a hard-on, wanting to rush over to wherever she was, bend her over, and plunge deep inside of her.I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, cursing
Elara’s POVMy heart was racing as I stormed down the hall, my feet moving quicker than my mind. I did not know where I was going; all I just needed was to get as far away from Andrew as possible. The sight of Rhea all over him, her hands on his chest, her intentions so blatant and obvious…It was too much.The air felt different now-oppressive, suffocating. My vision blurred, not from tears that I refused to cry, but from the great anger and humiliation that burned inside of me. I should have known better. Andrew had secrets, walls I probably could never see over, let alone climb. What was I thinking, letting myself believe this could be different?That would explain why he doesn't want the pack to know we're mates."Elara!" His voice echoed down the hall, but I didn't stop.He was right behind me, his heavy steps fast as he gained on me, but I didn't stop, quickening my pace as if the distance between us could ease the sting of the betrayal.It probably could."Elara, stop!" he call
Elara’s POVBranches clawed at my arms as we pushed through the forest, the moonlight barely cutting through the thick canopy overhead. My lungs burned. Every breath tasted like smoke and blood.Andrew’s weight leaned heavier and heavier against me, his steps sluggish, and uneven. He hadn’t spoken in minutes. I could feel the fever radiating off him.“Just a little further,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “Come on, stay with me.”It was crazy how our positions switched. The main reason why he was caught in this mess is to help me. Now, I was the one doing the helping.Luckily that stupid beast left after doing it's work leaving me with a very sick Andrew. I didn't know how far Michael and Lora had to go in order to get help.Noticing he hadn’t responded, I looked down as his grip on me loosened.“Andrew?” I stopped and turned, my heart hammering. “Hey. Look at me.”He swayed. His eyes blinked, unfocused. Then he crumpled.“No—no, no, no.” I dropped with him, catching his head before i
Andrew’s POVI didn’t think anything could shake me after everything we’d been through—Elara’s capture, the cult, the blade meant for my heart. But the thing crawling out of that seal wasn’t from this world.It was born from nightmares. A monster made of shadows and dark moon magic.It stretched as it rose, black tendrils spilling off its limbs like smoke, jaws clicking with bone and fangs. Its eyes locked onto us, glowing red-hot—rage, hunger, purpose.It was like it had a personal issue to settle with us.“Elara,” I said, backing up slowly, “we need to move.”She didn’t answer. She looked dazed, one hand clutching her chest like it hurt to breathe.“Elara,” I tried again, louder this time.She blinked hard, snapped back, and turned to me. “I can’t feel it.”“What?”“The bond. It’s gone.” Her voice cracked. “I—I think Jacob finished the ritual.”Shit. That explained the weakness in her posture, the pale cast to her skin. We didn't have time. The last thing I want is to be caught in t
Andrew’s POVElara didn’t stab me.Despite my unwavering trust in her, I could've sworn she wanted to gut me with the knife.She stabbed the cultist to my left—clean through the ribs.The robed bastard choked on his own breath, eyes wide, blood pooling from his mouth as he collapsed.And just like that, everything just seemed to go to shit as commotion broke out around us.Screams rang out in the still air. Chants siezed as every head turned and eyes snapped open towards our direction.Someone shouted, “She’s turned!”I didn’t need more time to think. My chains were half-broken the moment they stopped chanting. It seemed like they were using magic to contain me. The pulse in my chest hadn’t stopped. It was like a second heartbeat, wild and growing louder in my ear.I wrenched my right arm free with a roar, ignoring the tear of metal against skin. The pain meant nothing anymore. The moment Elara turned that blade, I knew—we were going to live or die together.“Elara!” I shouted.She s
Elara’s POVThe blade felt colder than it should have.Slick handle. Sharp edge.They’d placed it in my hand like it belonged there. Like I’d been born to wield it.My fingers closed around it on instinct, but my heart—fates, my heart refused. It pounded hard enough I thought it might split open my chest.Andrew’s eyes locked on mine, blood dripping down the curve of his jaw. He didn’t speak. Didn’t beg. Just looked at me, like he always had—steady, unflinching, and maddeningly full of love.Kieran stood behind him, watching like a predator admiring his own trap as Jacob came around to stand beside him.“This is the moment,” Jacob said, his voice low and coaxing. “Where the universe balances itself. You break the anchor, Elara, and disaster becomes your throne. You hesitate… and it becomes your grave.”I stared at Andrew. His breathing was shallow. His shirt clung to his chest, soaked in sweat and blood. And his mark—it pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own through his torn shirt.
Andrew’s POVThe chanting started slow.Low. Rhythmic. Like a heartbeat echoing in the belly of a beast.I sat with my back to the cold stone wall, chains digging into my wrists. My blood had dried hours ago, stiff and sticky against my skin, but the real pain wasn’t in the cuts or the bruises.It was inside.The mark on my chest that recently appeared burned like it had just been carved. A deep, pulsing throb that synced perfectly with their damn chants. Every beat made it flare hotter. Sharper.I gritted my teeth, flexing against the restraints. Useless.They’d done their homework.Silver links.Wolfsbane laced through the shackles.But they didn’t know everything. They didn’t understand what the mark meant—not really. Not what it did to a person. To me.To Elara.I shut my eyes, trying to hold her face in my mind. Before the rituals. Before the chaos. Before I let my own pain turn me into something she couldn’t reach.And then I heard his voice.Kieran.“I’d say it’s good to see yo
Lora's POVThe fire wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the kind that crackled in fireplaces or flickered in campfires.It was alive, red, deep and pulsing like blood. It didn’t just burn. It seemed to breathe.I stood at the edge of it, frozen, and unable to do a thing while I watched it wrap around her. Elara. Her skin was streaked with ash, her hair wild and tangled, eyes wide and wet with something too painful to name. She wasn’t screaming.She was whispering.“Lora…”Her voice barely reached me through the heat. But I heard it. Goddess, I felt it.“Please…”The flames swallowed her whole.I woke up screaming.I shot upright, lungs dragging for air like I’d been drowning. Sweat drenched my skin, my nightshirt clinging to me like a second layer of skin. My heart slammed against my ribs, and for a second, I wasn’t even sure where I was.The dream still clung to me like smoke. It was thick, choking, and inescapable.“Elara,” I whispered into the dark.I didn’t bother grabbing a robe. I rushed
Elara’s POVThe drums pounded through the courtyard like war cries. The smell of burning herbs and ash filled the air, thick and heavy, like it had a weight of its own. The cultists circled the altar, chanting words older than the land we stood on. Each voice layered over the next, rising into a sound that didn’t feel human.And above it all, I heard him.“Do you still feel it,” Andrew’s voice rasped, “or was it always a lie?”I froze. But before that—Before those words crawled into my bones and made my breath catch—I saw him.They’d chained him to the old execution post, like something out of a nightmare. His shirt was torn, blood streaked across his ribs, and his lip had split open. But he was upright. Breathing. Still defiant, even with all the blood on his skin and the metal biting into his wrists.Andrew.It was the first time I’d seen him since I was taken. Really seen him. Not in visions. Not in dreams. Not in those fleeting, aching flashes I told myself weren’t real.And go
Andrew’s POVThe robe stank. Like sweat, damp straw, and the kind of filth that clings to men who’ve given up being clean. It clung to my shoulders, itchy and rough, like it knew I didn’t belong. I hunched forward as I walked, mimicking the limping shuffle of the other prisoners. My wrists were bound in iron cuffs—fake ones Michael rigged to snap open with a twist—and my face was smeared with ash to cover my scent.It was raining when I arrived. Not a downpour, just a cold mist that turned everything to mud. The kind of weather that crept under your skin and made you wonder if leaving the comfort of your home was worth it.I passed through the first line of guards with my head down and my mouth shut. The cult didn’t say much—just grunted, pointed, and pushed us along. Most of the others were actual rogues. Desperate men. Broken ones. I could hear them breathing hard, coughing, mumbling to themselves. None of them looked at me.Good. I didn’t want their attention. I wanted hers.The
Elara’s POVThe torches burned low, casting long shadows against the stone walls. Their heat didn’t reach me. I was freezing, barefoot, and dressed in something between a robe and a rag, the sleeves torn, the hem dragging along the damp ground. My hands were tied behind my back, wrists rubbed raw from the ropes. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with something older. It made my insides clench as the scent assaulted me.I stood in the center of a circle etched into the floor, the grooves filled with something black and slick. I didn't know if it was blood, or something worse. Candles lined the edges. Hooded figures chanted in low, guttural tones that made my stomach twist.Kieran stood just beyond the circle, face painted in red and gold symbols, his smile as sharp as a blade.“Why are you doing this?” I hissed.His grin widened. “You know why.”“I don’t,” I snapped. “You keep saying I’m the key, the vessel, the… whatever. But I’m just me. You’ve got the wro