Novels by Mira Writes

Kade’s POV: “Well…” she dragged the word out, a deliberate tease. “Sooner than you think.” “This week?” I asked, my brow furrowing despite my attempt to look indifferent. My arms were still crossed, a shield over my chest. “Maybe,” Aria shrugged, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. “Next week?” I pressed, needing something concrete, a date to anchor the sudden, unwelcome hollow feeling in my gut. “Hey,” she laughed softly, sinking back into the couch cushions, that infuriating smirk still in place. “You’ll know when you know, okay?” What the hell did that even mean? “And what does that mean?” I asked, looking down at her where she lay, a picture of smug satisfaction. She fake-cleared her throat, the smirk widening. “It means I’ll leave when you least expect it.” “Hmm,” I hummed, squinting my eyes. A slow realization dawned on me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” “Maybe, maybe not,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling with victory. I broke into a light smil

Aria’s POV: We collapsed onto the couch in a tangled, breathless heap. Kade’s arms splayed out as he fell back, and I landed with my head pillowed on one of his muscular arms, my body beside his. The only sounds in the room were the heavy, slowing rhythm of our breathing. I kept my right arm curled over my breasts, a shy barrier as I lay against the solid warmth of him. Our gazes were fixed on the ceiling, both of us coming down from the raw, unexpected intensity of what had just happened. I was desperately trying to steady the frantic pounding of my heart, hoping the drumbeat against my ribs wasn't as loud to him as it was to me. It had been quite a while since I’d been touched like that, since I’d felt so completely unraveled and put back together. A slow, secret smile spread across my lips as I stared at the ceiling, replaying the moments in my mind. Then, his arm—the one I was using as a pillow—curled inward. The movement gently turned my face until I was looking dire

Author’s POV: “We need to talk.” Carlos turned, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze a laser of pure accusation. Lancaster slammed the door shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the tense silence. He took a few steps toward Carlos, stopping just short of him. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and rising concern, his brow deeply furrowed. “Have you been sleeping with Selene?” Carlos’s voice was low, but each word was sharp and deliberate, devoid of their usual camaraderie. Lancaster’s face twitched. A nervous, forced chuckle escaped him. “I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?” “It’s a simple question,” Carlos said, closing the distance between them until they were almost nose-to-nose. “Have you been fucking Leon’s wife, or not?” “I’m not about to do this with you,” Lancaster retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand, attempting to brush past him. Carlos shot out a hand, grabbing Lancaster’s arm to stop him. “You’

Author’s POV: “I can’t believe this. I just… cannot believe this right now,” Wolfe growled, pressing the heels of his palms hard against his temples as he leaned heavily against the wall. “Believe it, man. I’m just as shocked as you are,” Carlos replied, a frantic hand raking through his hair. “We’ve put in all this work!” Wolfe’s voice was a low, seething thing as he dropped his hands, his gestures becoming sharp and wide. His volume began to climb, fueled by pure, incandescent rage. “Months of negotiations! And Lancaster sets the whole damn thing on fire by sleeping with Leon’s wife?!” Carlos didn’t respond. He just sank onto the couch, dragged in a deep, shaky breath, and rubbed his palms together before locking them in a white-knuckled grip. He pressed his clenched fists to his lips, his eyes staring blankly at the blank TV as if searching for an answer in the empty space. A heavy silence fell, thick with the ashes of their ruined deal. Wolfe remained braced agains

Ivy’s POV: The answer was a tangled knot in my throat. How could I possibly explain? *Hey, sorry I’m zoning out, it’s just that I’m gay, my girlfriend wants us to go public at a pool party, and I’m terrified of the entire world finding out.* It didn’t even sound right. The sheer impossibility of saying it aloud kept me silent. I dropped my gaze from his, focusing intently on my own fingers as they twisted and fidgeted on the cafe table. “Ivy?” His voice was softer now. I felt him lean forward, trying to catch my downcast eyes. “Yeah?” My own voice came out small, the earlier sternness completely gone. “What’s wrong?” The genuine concern in his tone was almost worse than irritation. It made me want to confess. “I… I… hmm.” I let out a shaky breath, a useless sound that filled the space where an explanation should be. I cleared my throat, grasping for an escape. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just… let’s just continue.” He gave a soft, disbelieving chuckle. “So your h

Ivy’s POV: “Aria?” The name came out as a startled question. “Yeah, I mean Aria,” Keisha said, folding her arms over her chest. A challenge glittered in her eyes. “Or… would that also be a problem?” “N-no, it’s not that,” I stammered, forcing a light laugh that sounded fake even to my own ears. “It’s just…” My mind raced through the complications. First, convincing Aria to come to a party was a mission in itself. Second, and more terrifying, was the introduction. What would I even say? ‘Hey, Aria, this is Keisha, my…'’ The word girlfriend felt like a live wire in my throat. “Just what?” Keisha pressed, one eyebrow arched high. “Aria doesn’t know I’m… that we’re…” I stumbled over the words, gesturing weakly between the two of us. “I’ve never talked to her about you. About us. You two have never even met.” “Oh,” Keisha let out a short, sharp laugh and shrugged, as if it were the simplest problem in the world. “Well, it’s high time we fixed that, don’t you think?” “Rig

Lyra povI wished I had stayed.Moon goddess, if I had known this was how it would end up, I never would’ve stepped out of that car. Never would’ve let Vincenzo’s cold hands replace Marcello’s fire. Never would’ve believed him when he said I was safer with him.“Why are you doing this to me, Vincenzo?” My voice was shaking, raw like something had clawed its way out of my throat. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t wipe them. What was the point?He didn’t answer.Didn’t even look at me.Just sat on the edge of that ratty mattress with a cigarette balanced between his fingers like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He brought it to his lips slowly, took a long drag, and exhaled as if I hadn’t spoken at all. The smoke curled into the air between us, a ghost of silence.“Vincenzo.” I stepped closer. My bare feet scraped against the dusty wooden floor. My voice cracked. “Talk to me.”He turned his head halfway. Not all the way. Never all the way.“Shut up, Lyra,” he muttered, the w

Marcello povI just don’t need anyone’s permission to confront Vincenzo. The thought of him with my woman for days gnaws at me like a relentless itch that I can't scratch. What stings even more is that nobody seems to acknowledge this – not even my godfather, who usually has a finger on every pulse in our circle.I sat in my worn leather chair, the surface cool against my skin, twirling a pen between my fingers as I flipped through a pile of reports and memos. The words blurred together in a haze of frustration; my focus was lost, consumed by the infuriating image of Vincenzo laughing and whispering sweet nothings in the ear of the woman I love. It had been days now, and the silence surrounding this betrayal was deafening, amplifying my anger.With a sudden burst of irritation, I tossed the papers aside, the scattering sheets creating a chaotic scene that mirrored my tumultuous thoughts. The shuffling echoed in the quiet room, a sound that felt as heavy as the weight on my chest. My g

As the music swelled and laughter filled the hall, my throat tightened. I kept my eyes down, but I could feel him.His presence was like a fire beneath my skin, drawing me in, pulling me toward him even when I knew I shouldn’t look.But I did.I risked a glance, just one.And I caught him watching me.Across the glittering room, past the nobles and silks and chandeliers — his gaze was locked on me.Not Valerie.Not the noble alphas or their perfect mates.Me.It was brief. A flicker. A ghost of something unreadable in his eyes.Then it was gone. He turned away as if it had never happened.As if I didn’t exist.Still, my pulse thundered in my ears. My grip on the tray tightened until my knuckles ached."Stop staring," I muttered to myself. "He doesn’t care. He’ll never care."But part of me whispered what if?What if that flicker meant something?What if he saw me — truly saw me — for just a second?A crash jerked me out of my thoughts. A noble had bumped into a servant, sending wine c

Claire povI watched the unfolding romance between Vincenzo and his visitor, Lyra. There was something undeniably magnetic about their connection; Vincenzo had this way of drawing her into a conversation that made it impossible for her to resist. He never allowed a moment of silence to linger between them, always eager to reassure her and pull her closer into his world.As I leaned against the doorframe, my eyes pressed against the peephole, I could feel the electric atmosphere of their exchange: laughter mingling with soft whispers, the warm glow of the dim light casting shadows around them. Suddenly, I felt a gentle but unexpected touch on my arm. My heart raced, and I froze in place, the urgency of not wanting my brother to notice sending a shiver down my spine. I inhaled sharply, my breath hitching in my throat as I carefully turned my head to see who had approached me.It was Cassandra. Her presence was both alarming and oddly comforting. I could see her striking green eyes glimm

Vincenzo povI couldn't help but grin as Lyra's hips swayed to the music, her waist twerking seductively on my laps. The confidence she'd gained since being with me was intoxicating, and I was drunk on the sight of her. My hands wandered, tracing the curves of her body as she moved, sending shivers down her spine.As she spun around, her sparkling eyes locked onto mine, a playful glimmer dancing within them as she raised an eyebrow in curious inquiry. "Who was that?" she asked, her voice husky and throaty, barely rising above the throbbing beats of the music that enveloped us like a warm, intoxicating embrace.I couldn't help but chuckle, fully aware of the subject of her intrigue. "Marcello," I replied, my voice low and smooth, each syllable dripping with a calm confidence.Lyra's eyes widened in surprise, her curiosity morphing into a hint of panic. She attempted to scramble off my lap with a flurry of limbs, but I quickly pulled her back, wrapping my arms around her waist with a ge

Marcello pov"Rebekah!!" I bellowed her name again, the sound ricocheting off the plastered walls and mingling with the cacophony of laughter and music in the air. Frantically, I swept my gaze across the crowded room, a sea of unfamiliar faces blending into a blur as I searched for that one familiar figure. With each passing moment, the rising tide of panic washed over me, my heart pounding like a frantic jackrabbit trapped in a snare. I cried out for her once more, my voice laced with urgency. "Rebekah!!"Driven by a force beyond my control, my feet propelled me forward, weaving in and out of clusters of partygoers lost in their own revelry. The pulsing rhythm of the bass thumped heavily in my chest, and the idle chatter around me faded into a dull, disorienting hum. Desperation clawed at my insides, tightening its grip with every heartbeat. Where was she? Why wasn't she responding to my calls?I navigated through the throng, feeling the warmth of bodies brushing against mine, the sc