Reagan’s POVI watched them together, every step they took igniting a fire of anger and betrayal within me. My grip on the glass tightened, the stem creaking under the pressure. It took everything in me not to storm after them, and grab Andrea away from him far away but I couldn’t so I stood there like a hopeless fool watching them leave."Sike, is it just me, or was there some serious tension?" Julius said, his voice casual but his eyes keenly observant.I ignored him, downing the rest of my drink in one gulp. The burn of the alcohol did little to numb the hurt that gnawed at my insides. I needed to get away, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the party, away from the prying eyes and whispering mouths. My feet moved on their own, leading me to the balcony, where the cool night air offered a semblance of relief.Out here, in the quiet solitude, my mind raced. Images of Andrea and Hayden together, laughing, talking, perhaps even embracing, haunted me. My heart twisted at the thoug
Guinevere’s POVMy hands trembled as I carefully applied balm to Reagan’s split lips, the sight of his bruised face only fueling the anger burning inside me. How could this night have spiraled so out of control? My mind was still reeling from the confrontation with Hayden, and now, walking in on Reagan getting beaten to a pulp, it was too much.“How dare him,” I muttered through gritted teeth, my voice trembling with barely contained rage.To think the night could get any worse, first with Hayden, and now this.Reagan’s lips twitched into a smile, despite the pain I knew he must be feeling. “If you keep tightening your brows like that, you’re going to get wrinkles,” he teased, his voice soft but playful.How could he smile after what just happened? It baffled me. My frustration peaked, and I turned away, running my hands through my hair in a futile attempt to calm myself.“Andrea?” Reagan’s voice was gentle, coaxing me to turn back to him. His eyes searched my face, concern etched in e
Guinevere’s POVThe pounding rhythm of loud music reverberated through the air as we walked into the bar, the vibrant energy of the place hitting us like a wave. Neon lights bathed the room in hues of red and blue, casting playful shadows on the walls as the crowd danced and mingled. The scent of alcohol and sweat mingled in the air, and the sound of laughter and chatter added to the lively atmosphere.I led Reagan to a corner table, sliding into a seat and gesturing for him to join me. He sat down, his expression a mixture of reluctance and mild annoyance. His arms were crossed, and he surveyed the scene with a raised brow, clearly unimpressed.“Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair with a playful grin. “What do you think?”Reagan sighed, his brows knitting together as he glanced around the bar. His posture remained stiff, his body language practically screaming discomfort. “I would have preferred to be in my bed, fast asleep,” he admitted, his voice low, “rather than being surround
Guinevere's POVThe music pulsed through the room, blending with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses, but all of it faded into the background as Reagan and I settled into our own little world. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening my nerves, or maybe it was the ease with which Reagan and I bantered, but I found myself relaxing, genuinely enjoying the conversation with him.“I did not!” I protested, laughing as I took another sip of my drink.Reagan leaned back, a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh, you absolutely did. If I remember correctly—and I do—you cried all night because you lost the battle with Nora.”I scoffed, shaking my head. “In my defense, I was only ten.”He smirked, taking a slow sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving mine. There was something in his gaze that made me feel exposed, like he could see through the bravado to the vulnerable girl I used to be. His eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was also a depth there, something I couldn’t quite place
Reagan's POVThe ride to the hotel was torture. Every second felt like an eternity as I sat there, burning with the need to hold her, to kiss every inch of her, to hear her scream my name in pleasure. But with the old man behind the wheel, I had to keep myself in check, which felt impossible with Andrea so close, her scent filling the small space, driving me to the brink of madness.When we finally arrived, I barely managed to keep it together. I tossed the driver more money than I intended, not caring about the change, and quickly grabbed Andrea’s hand. We rushed into the hotel, practically running to the elevator. As the doors closed, leaving us alone, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.But Andrea had other plans.Before I could even process what was happening, she grabbed my hands and slammed me against the elevator wall, her lips crashing into mine with a fierce hunger that matched my own. A smile tugged at my lips as I kissed her back, hard and deman
Guinevere's POVHis scent filled the room, a heady mix of musk and desire that sent shivers down my spine. Every inch of me was aware of him—the heat radiating from his body, the roughness of his hands as they explored my skin, and the relentless motion of his tongue as it flicked over my nipples, teasing and torturing me with a pleasure so intense I could hardly breathe."Ahhh, Re... Reagan," I moaned, my voice trembling with need. I was so close—so achingly close. My back arched involuntarily, pushing my chest further into his mouth as his tongue continued its wicked dance. I could feel myself unraveling, my body responding shamelessly to every touch, every swirl of his tongue that sent electric currents surging through me.I didn't care who could hear us, who might be aware of the cries spilling from my lips as I called out his name, each syllable a testament to the ecstasy he was drawing from me. I was lost, completely and utterly lost in him."I'm so cl... Ahhhh!" The words disso
"You're so beautiful," Reagan whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he moved slowly inside me. His eyes were dark and intense, locked onto mine as he poured every ounce of his feelings into each deliberate thrust. "Ugggh, my wife is so beautiful," he murmured again, his breath hot against my lips before he pressed a tender kiss to them.His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the sincerity in every syllable. "I don't deserve you, Andrea," he whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of reverence and guilt. "You're too good for me."I grabbed his face, cupping his strong jaw in my hands and pulling him closer for a deep, searing kiss. He groaned softly against my lips, and I could feel the smile spreading across his face as he kissed me back with equal fervor. His hands tightened on my hips, drawing me even closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of any distance between us.Finally, he pulled away for some breaths leaving our faces inches apart as he gazed into my e
Guinevere's POVI Love youReagan’s words echoed in my mind as I slowly woke up. My eyes fluttered open, taking in the soft light filtering through the curtains. The remnants of last night’s passion were all around me—clothes strewn across the floor, books knocked off the shelves, and an undeniable sense of intimacy hanging in the air.I groaned softly, my hand pressing against my throbbing head as I sat up. My body ached deliciously, a reminder of just how intense last night had been. Heat rose to my cheeks as flashes of being bent over by Reagan came rushing back. My pulse quickened at the memory, but something else crept in—where was Reagan?A sense of unease washed over me as I scanned the room. The bed was empty, sheets tangled and rumpled from our restless night. I reached down, picking up Reagan's shirt, slipping it over my shoulders as I moved out of the bedroom.Padding quietly into the kitchen, I found him there, completely absorbed in whatever he was doing at the stove. He
Guinevere’s POVMy heart pounded in my chest as I stood there, forcing my breathing to remain steady.I willed myself to stay calm, to mask every bit of hesitation threatening to seep through. A simple smile that’s all it took. Just one convincing smile.But Reagan… he knew me too well.What if he saw through it?What if he realized that what I was about to say was a lie?No.I couldn't let that happen.If Reagan discovered that I knew about the solution, he would be pissed and knowing Reagan he could lock me up just to ensure I don’t live and Rya I couldn’t imagine how hurt he would be with her... I couldn't allow that.I took a deep breath, steadying myself.I won’t let that happen.When this was all over, I didn’t mind begging for his forgiveness. I’d take whatever consequences came my way as long as Reagan was safe, I’d be okay.The door creaked open, and then he walked in.A soft smile graced his lips as his deep blue eyes locked onto mine, making my breath hitch.“Andrea.”His v
Rya's POVThe stupid knot in my chest just wouldn’t go away.I clenched my jaw, pacing the room in restless frustration.I didn’t do anything wrong.Right?Guinevere had every right to know. As much as Reagan loved her, she wasn’t some fragile child. She could make her own decisions. She deserved that much.And it’s not like she was going to die or anything…I exhaled sharply, raking a hand through my hair.“F*ck.”Why did things always have to be this way? Why did doing the right thing always feel so wrong?A sudden cough pulled me from my thoughts.I turned sharply, my heart lurching as I saw Otis sitting up in bed, his dark eyes bleary with confusion. His fingers pressed against his temple as if trying to steady his thoughts.Without hesitation, I grabbed the cup of water from the nightstand and handed it to him."Here, drink this."He took a slow sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. A moment passed before he exhaled and handed the cup back."Thanks."I nodded, keeping my
Guinevere's POVI shut the book with a sharp thud, the sound echoing through the empty library. A frustrated sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. The library had practically become my second home ever since the meeting with the elders. Books upon books surrounded me, pages filled with knowledge, yet none of them held the answers I so desperately sought.And thankfully, Reagan wasn’t here.He had gone to a meeting on the south side, giving me a moment of solitude no forced smiles, no pretending that I was fine. Because I wasn’t.How could I be when the hex was still a looming threat?I worried for him, more than he probably realized. And yet, every time I looked into his eyes, all I saw was that same reassuring smile, that same determination to act like everything was okay. But I knew better.Deep down, he had to be terrified.Terrified that one day, the hex would take control. That he would do something unforgivable.I clenched my jaw and grabbed another
Rya POVAgain, I hit the ground, hard. The impact rattled through my bones, but I clenched my jaw, swallowing the frustration burning inside me."Damn it," I hissed, pushing myself up. My legs trembled slightly, but I steadied them, lifting my gaze to the werewolf standing before me."Again," I ordered, my voice sharp.He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Rya, maybe we should—""Again!" I snapped, cutting him off.Reluctantly, he lunged at me. I blocked his strike, but he was faster this time—his foot connected with my legs, sweeping them from under me.I hit the ground with a thud, a sharp groan escaping my lips. My fingers dug into the dirt as the frustration clawed at my insides."Maybe we should take five," he suggested, his tone careful."No," I growled, pushing myself up once more. "Again.""Rya—""I said again!"I launched forward, tapping into my wolf speed. He barely had time to react before I struck, catching him off guard.But my mind wasn’t on the fight. My b
Guinevere's POVToday had been an overwhelming mess, a whirlwind of chaos that left my mind spinning. First, Reagan and the elders, then the horror of watching the killer bite off his own tongue, and now this—Reagan and Hayden, fists flying, pure rage crackling in the air like a violent storm."What's wrong with you two?" I shouted as I rushed toward them, shoving myself between their tense bodies. My hands pressed against their chests, trying to force them apart.Reagan’s breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitch. A thin cut on his lips oozed a slow trickle of blood, but he barely seemed to notice. His icy blue eyes burned with fury, locked onto Hayden.Hayden, on the other hand, stood rigid, his fists still curled at his sides, his chest rising and falling in rapid, angry breaths. His dark eyes flashed with something dangerous—resentment, frustration, maybe even something deeper."Why don’t you ask him?" Reagan spat, his voice thick with barely con
Reagan's POVFlashbackTick. Tock. Tick. Tock.The clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second dragging on forever.In just a few minutes, I would stand before the elders. This could go really well… or it could take a sharp turn south.I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling a slow breath, forcing myself to remain composed. The weight of the moment settled heavily on my chest, but I had long since mastered the art of masking my emotions.The door creaked open, and Andrea walked in.She didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at me, her eyes full of concern. No matter how hard I tried to hide my feelings, she always saw right through me.“You okay?” she asked softly.I forced a smile. “Of course. Can’t wait to see their faces when we show them the real killer.”She didn’t laugh.Instead, she closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around me in a firm embrace.I stiffened for half a second before my body instinctively relaxed. My arms encircled her waist, pu
Reagan's POVI stepped into the town hall, my boots echoing against the polished stone floor, each step measured, deliberate. The room was already filled, the Elders seated in their high-backed chairs, their expressions a mix of stern judgment and anticipation.If only they knew what awaited them.My eyes swept across the hall, noting familiar faces—some filled with worry, others with satisfaction, eager to witness my downfall.Andrea sat near the front, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her brows furrowed with concern. Our eyes met, and I offered her a small reassuring smile, though my chest tightened at the worry in her gaze.Then there was Hayden.His face remained unreadable, but the way his jaw twitched and his hands curled into fists at his sides told me everything. Hatred. Resentment. Rage.I smirked at him, watching with amusement as his eyes darkened, his posture going rigid.But my amusement faded as my gaze flickered to the empty chair in the farthest corner—a chair tha
Reagan's POVRya.She stood a few feet away, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something—but no words came out."Rya," I breathed.She quickly blinked back her tears, looking away as she hastily rubbed a hand over her face. "I’m sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t mean to eavesdrop."She turned on her heel, about to leave."Wait," I called out.She froze, her back still turned to me. Her fingers tightened into small fists at her sides, betraying the storm of emotions raging inside her.I took a slow step forward. "Can we talk… please?"She stood motionless for what felt like an eternity, her shoulders rising and falling with each measured breath.Finally, after a long pause, she turned to face me—her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears—and gave a small nod.The garden was quiet except for the steady chirping of crickets and the distant sound of wolves laughing and chattering inside the packhouse.
Reagan’s POVFlashback "Next time, lock the door," Grandmother Lana teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. I let out a chuckle, shaking my head. "Duly noted," I muttered, though my ears still burned from earlier. As I walked her toward the grand entrance of the **Shadow Fang Pack house, the cold night air nipped at my skin, sending a chill down my spine. The moon cast a pale glow over the stone pathway, illuminating the gentle yet wise features of the woman who had been a second mother to me. Lana turned to face me, her silver-streaked hair glinting softly under the moonlight. A warm smile tugged at her lips as she raised a wrinkled hand, cupping my cheek. Her touch was gentle yet firm, the way it had always been when I was a child seeking comfort. "You know I'll do anything for you," she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet strength. "You're Amelia’s boy." Something in my chest tightened. My mother’s boy. That’s what she always called me. I let my eyes flutter shut for j