Seven old women sat in a circle on the damp forest ground, their frail bodies bent like crooked branches. These were the elder witches, and they looked as worn as the earth beneath them. Their black gowns hung loose, the fabric torn at the hems and patched with mud. Wrinkles carved deep lines into their faces, and their gray hair stuck out in wild, matted clumps. Some had gaps where teeth once were; others had cloudy eyes that barely saw. Yet, their hands, though shaky, gripped small, rusty knives with purpose. Damon’s mother was one of them, her thin fingers clutching her blade tightly, her face pale under a tangle of silver hair.The meeting kicked off with a strange ceremony. The witches pushed themselves up, their old bones cracking like dry twigs, and raised their knives high. In their tattered gowns, they started chanting words no one else understood—harsh, foreign sounds that rolled off their tongues. Damon sat off to the side, legs crossed, watching them. Too much drama
Anna's POVI woke up to the softest sheets I’d ever felt in a very long time, the kind that makes you feel like you're floating in a cold swimming pool under a hot sun.But as my eyes fluttered open, confusion crashing over me with the speed of light. The last thing I remembered was the hospital—the sterile smell, the cold bed, the seizure that had ripped through me, leaving pain blooming in my stomach. Now, I was here, in a place so exquisite it didn’t make sense.The room was breathtaking. A massive bed decked in silky blue linens stretched beneath me, and the walls glowed a soft cream under the warm light of a crystal chandelier. A plush armchair sat in one corner, a sleek glass desk in another, and floor-to-ceiling windows framed a sprawling city skyline I couldn’t place. It was a hotel, maybe, but one so luxurious it felt unreal. How had I gone from a hospital bed to this?I sat up slowly, my breath catching as I pressed a hand to my stomach. I’d expec
Anna's POV But his face was stone-serious, his eyes digging into mine, waiting for an answer I didn’t have.“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I managed, my voice a shaky whisper. My heart hammered, each thud ringing in my ears. What did he mean I smelled like an alpha? And a pack? The questions piled up, suffocating me with no answers in sight.He tilted his head, his brow creasing like my confusion threw him off. “You don’t know?” he asked, his tone softening, almost curious. “But you carry the scent. It’s unmistakable.”I backed up, my shoulders hitting the elevator wall. The cold metal steadied me, but my thoughts were chaos. That voice earlier, my eyes flashing red in the mirror, the sudden craving for meat despite years as a vegetarian—it was all unraveling, and this man’s words were tugging at threads I didn’t want to pull.“I’m not… I’m not part of any pack,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t even know what that means.”He stared at me,
Anna's POV"My mother used to say, when there’s a heavy downpour of rain, it means the Earth is mourning dead souls."The sharp crackle of lightning lit up the night, followed by a rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the car. The sound jolted me back to reality. I hated thunderstorms—the noise, the darkness, the way my chest tightened every time it struck.I took a shaky breath, trying to focus. "Can you go any faster?" I asked the driver, my voice sharper than I intended.“Sorry, ma’am, but I have to drive carefully. The roads are slick with rain,” he replied, his hands steady on the wheel.I bit my lip, drumming my fingers anxiously on my thigh, feeling like something was clawing inside me. I tried blaming the weather or the pace of the drive, but deep down, I knew there was something else, something I couldn’t shake.Desperate to distract myself, I reached into my bag, searching for my phone. Maybe scrolling through the internet would ease this gnawing
Anna's POVMy head pounded as I came back to consciousness, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes. I blinked, my vision clearing just enough to catch sight of a man standing over me, his expression as cold as stone. Panic set in, but I tried to keep it hidden, my eyes darting around the room. There were more men, rough, brutal-looking, and then my gaze landed on a particular one amongst them.He sat apart from the others, watching, calm and unreadable. Unlike the others, he didn’t look at us with hostility. Instead, he seemed almost bored, a quiet authority radiating from his relaxed posture. “Get up,” the man in front of me barked, grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. My heart raced, but I forced myself to stand steady."Please..." I wanted to speak but a stinging slap to my face stopped my words. The man grabbed my chin, "You don't utter a sound unless you are asked." He said, shoving his scarred face in front of me."Wake the others," he commanded, h
Anna's POVI slept through the night in a room he’d prepared for me in his mansion, but it felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. The memory of my father’s lifeless body, drenched in his own blood, haunted me. What about my sister? My mother? Were they safe? Did they even know I was gone?A fierce anger bubbled within me, directed at the man who had taken me against my will, my so-called “savior.” He was nothing but a demon in disguise, dragging me into a world I wanted no part of.A sharp knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts. Before I could even gather my rage, it swung open, and two young maids stepped in, their heads bowed.“Good morning, miss,” one of them said softly. “We’ve brought breakfast. Master requests that you put this on and join him in the main hall when you’re ready.”“Requests?” I spat, “More like demands. Why should I even think about doing anything he says?”They exchanged worried glances, but I didn’t care. I crossed my arm
Damon glanced at his wristwatch, his patience thinning. "She should be out by now, it's been over ten minutes."“Master,” Tiger spoke up, a sly smile playing at his lips. “Is she the one?” Damon asked, his eyes scanning for answers. “Yes, boss, she’s Kane Blackwood’s daughter," He said with a grin on his face."Good; this is the perfect opportunity for us, a direct line to Blackwood territory.” Damon smiled, turning his face to the direction of Anna's room.Tiger’s grin widened. “So, do we call him? Let him know we have his little princess?”“Not yet,” Damon replied sharply."There’s no need to rush. Kane doesn’t even know she’s here.” His voice lowered.A dark smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Once she’s mine in every way, with my seed in her womb, then we’ll make the call. By then, Blackwood will be begging to meet my terms.”He took a step toward the stairs, his tone icy with control. “Tell the men I’m not to be disturbed.”Tiger gave a respectful nod, “Understood, boss
Anna's POVI held my breath, caught between terror and confusion, trying to figure out what had made him stop.He sat down in front of me, his eyes fixed on my nearly bare body, save for my torn underwear.I quickly tried to cover myself with the shredded fabric, tears streaming down my face, but he barely seemed to notice.Lighting a cigar, he took a long drag, letting the smoke swirl around us before his gaze returned to me.“You think I’m a bad person, don’t you?” he asked, voice low.Anger surged through me. "You're a monster," I shot back, my voice thick with fury and fear.He chuckled, a sound without warmth. “A monster?” he murmured, as if amused. “So, that means you’re terrified of me, yes?”I clenched my jaw, refusing to respond. Yes, fear was coursing through me, but I’d never let him know that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction."Please, just let me go," I whispered, my voice trembling as tears continued to fall. "I'm nothing—just some low-life
Anna's POV But his face was stone-serious, his eyes digging into mine, waiting for an answer I didn’t have.“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I managed, my voice a shaky whisper. My heart hammered, each thud ringing in my ears. What did he mean I smelled like an alpha? And a pack? The questions piled up, suffocating me with no answers in sight.He tilted his head, his brow creasing like my confusion threw him off. “You don’t know?” he asked, his tone softening, almost curious. “But you carry the scent. It’s unmistakable.”I backed up, my shoulders hitting the elevator wall. The cold metal steadied me, but my thoughts were chaos. That voice earlier, my eyes flashing red in the mirror, the sudden craving for meat despite years as a vegetarian—it was all unraveling, and this man’s words were tugging at threads I didn’t want to pull.“I’m not… I’m not part of any pack,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t even know what that means.”He stared at me,
Anna's POVI woke up to the softest sheets I’d ever felt in a very long time, the kind that makes you feel like you're floating in a cold swimming pool under a hot sun.But as my eyes fluttered open, confusion crashing over me with the speed of light. The last thing I remembered was the hospital—the sterile smell, the cold bed, the seizure that had ripped through me, leaving pain blooming in my stomach. Now, I was here, in a place so exquisite it didn’t make sense.The room was breathtaking. A massive bed decked in silky blue linens stretched beneath me, and the walls glowed a soft cream under the warm light of a crystal chandelier. A plush armchair sat in one corner, a sleek glass desk in another, and floor-to-ceiling windows framed a sprawling city skyline I couldn’t place. It was a hotel, maybe, but one so luxurious it felt unreal. How had I gone from a hospital bed to this?I sat up slowly, my breath catching as I pressed a hand to my stomach. I’d expec
Seven old women sat in a circle on the damp forest ground, their frail bodies bent like crooked branches. These were the elder witches, and they looked as worn as the earth beneath them. Their black gowns hung loose, the fabric torn at the hems and patched with mud. Wrinkles carved deep lines into their faces, and their gray hair stuck out in wild, matted clumps. Some had gaps where teeth once were; others had cloudy eyes that barely saw. Yet, their hands, though shaky, gripped small, rusty knives with purpose. Damon’s mother was one of them, her thin fingers clutching her blade tightly, her face pale under a tangle of silver hair.The meeting kicked off with a strange ceremony. The witches pushed themselves up, their old bones cracking like dry twigs, and raised their knives high. In their tattered gowns, they started chanting words no one else understood—harsh, foreign sounds that rolled off their tongues. Damon sat off to the side, legs crossed, watching them. Too much drama
Under a full moon, the forest stretched cold and silent, save for the distant howls of wolves and faint, eerie laughter that drifted through the trees. Damon pressed forward along a narrow path, Anna’s limp body slung across his shoulders. His red Lycan eyes glowed fierce in the dark, cutting through the shadows like a blade. Tall trees towered above, their thick branches choking out the moonlight, leaving only slivers to speckle the ground.Wild animals lurked nearby, drawn by the scent of Anna’s death. A wolf pack edged closer, their eyes glinting with hunger, until Damon let out a deep, rumbling growl. They bolted, tails low, and even the bolder creatures—bears, foxes—slunk back into the undergrowth. But as he reached a small clearing, Damon slowed. Ahead stood a threat no growl would scatter.Three werewolves blocked his way, their blue eyes glowing bright and unyielding. Guardians of the territory, they bristled with tension, claws flexing. Damon didn’t hesitate. He strode to
Tiger sat alone in the hospital’s technical office, his eyes fixed on the flickering CCTV footage displayed on the monitor before him. The small room felt cramped, packed with humming computers and cables that spilled across the desk. He’d been at it for hours, watching an endless stream of doctors and nurses passing through the hospital’s hallways on the big screen. A yawn escaped his lips as boredom settled in. Most of the faces were unfamiliar but expected—medical staff going about their routines. The only exception was Damon, who had stormed through earlier. Other than that, nothing seemed out of place.Still, Tiger wasn’t convinced. Anna’s death gnawed at him, and he needed answers. Pushing back from the desk, he stood and crossed the room to the door. He opened it and leaned out into the hallway. “Doctor,” he called.Moments later, the doctor who had first brought him into the technical office appeared, his white coat slightly wrinkled. “Yes?” he asked, stepping closer.Ti
The helicopter descended into a small clearing nestled deep within the Mexican tropical forest, its rotor blades chopping through the thick, humid air. The sound was a relentless whump-whump, sending gusts of wind that bowed the towering pines and scattered dry leaves in swirling patterns across the ground. A semicircle of mercenaries stood waiting. Six men, hardened by years of conflict, gripped their rifles with steady hands, barrels pointed slightly downward but ready to snap up at a moment’s notice. Dust kicked up by the chopper’s landing swirled around their boots as it settled with a soft jolt, the skids sinking slightly into the earth. No one seemed to come out from the helicopter. The mercenaries shifted uneasily, exchanging quick, wordless glances. Their leader, a burly man known simply as the boss, stepped forward. His scarred forehead twitched faintly as he squinted at the chopper’s dark windows. His heavy boots crunched against the dry ground, each step deliberate, h
The uninhabited forest of La Mosquitia in Mexico stretched out beneath a hot midday sun. The air hung thick with humidity, carrying the faint swamp of insects and the occasional cry of birds. High above the dense forest, a mercenary lay flat on his belly on top of a rugged mountain, his body pressed against the warm, hard rock. His eyes were locked on a pair of binoculars, scanning the horizon. He was the lookout, tasked with a single, pivotal role in the ambush about to unfold below.His face, toughened by years of mercenary living, reflected no emotion as he adjusted the binoculars. A deep voice had spoken through the walkie-talkie earlier, barking orders that still played in his mind: “Watch out for any sign of a Gulfstream G-159, a chopper. Target is Damon. Alert the others when you sight him. Do you copy?” “Yes, boss, I copy,” he’d replied, “No sign of any chopper yet. I’ll keep watching.” That had been over an hour ago. Now, as sweat formed on his forehead like morning de
A man in his early fifties stood at the imposing iron gates of Damon's mansion. His coat was slightly rumpled, and his hands fidgeted with the strap of a leather bag slung over his shoulder. Two security guards approached, their broad frames and stern expressions signaling that no one entered unvetted."Hands up," one of them ordered gruffly, his voice cutting through the stillness. The other guard stepped forward, patting down the visitor with practiced efficiency, searching for any trace of a weapon. Finding none, he nodded to his partner."He's clean," the second guard muttered.The first guard fixed the man with a hard stare. "Who are you?""I'm Doctor Francis," the man replied, his voice steady but laced with a hint of nerves. "I'm here to see Mr. Damon."The head of security, a towering figure with a scar running across his jaw, stepped closer. "Damon’s not around," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "But his sister might want to hear you out." He tur
Damon stood alone in the big compound of his mansion, the night air cool against his bare torso, dressed only in trousers, his shirt abandoned somewhere in the heat of his torment.Before him stood a magnificent golden lion statue, its jaws parted to release springs of water that splashed into a marble basin below. The constant flow shimmered under the moonlight, a wide contrast to the emptiness that gripped his heart.His eyes, filled with tears that refused to fall, were fixed on the statue, though his thoughts were elsewhere—lost in memories of Anna, in the promises he’d made, in the hollow ache of her death The sound of footsteps broke through his internal agonies, soft but steady, approaching from behind. He turned his head just enough to see Ghost, his sister, stepping into the faint glow cast by the mansion’s lanterns.“I’m sorry about Anna,” Ghost said, her voice thick with sympathy.Damon didn’t respond. His jaw tightened, and he turned his gaze back to the lion, unwilling