Novels by Najaatu

Sophie’s POV The black dress felt like armor. I’d chosen it carefully, it was elegant but not expensive, modest but not mousy, the kind of thing that would help me blend into the background at Richard’s funeral. But as I zipped it up and stared at my reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, I knew that blending in was impossible.Camille had seen Ethan. By now, the entire pack probably knew.“Mama, do I have to wear the tie?” Ethan appeared in the doorway, tugging at the navy blue tie I’d insisted on. He looked so grown up in his little suit, so heartbreakingly handsome with his grey eyes serious and his dark hair combed back.He looked like a Steele.“Yes, baby. Just for today.” I crouched down, adjusting the tie and smoothing his collar. “Remember what we talked about? We’re going to say goodbye to my stepfather. There will be lots of people there, and some of them might want to talk to us. Just be polite and stay close to me, okay?”“Will that mean lady be there? The one from the

Sophie’s POV Central Park in October was breathtaking. The leaves were turning, painting the trees in shades of gold and crimson, and the air had that crisp quality that I’d forgotten existed in California’s endless summer. We walked along the paths, Ethan running ahead to examine every interesting rock and leaf, and for a moment, I let myself pretend we were just tourists. Just a mother and son on vacation, with no complicated past and no terrifying future.My wolf wasn’t fooled. She was on high alert, sensing the pack boundaries we were crossing, the territorial markers that saturated the air. We were in the heart of Steele territory now, and every instinct I had was screaming at me that we were exposed, vulnerable.That he might be near.“Mama, look!” Ethan had found a hot dog cart and was staring at it with the intensity of someone who’d discovered buried treasure. “Can we get one? Please?”I laughed despite myself. “Yes, we can get one.”The vendor was human—I could tell by the

Sophie’s POV The plane descended through grey clouds, and my Soso stirred uneasily in my chest. She could sense it as we were entering Steele pack territory. Even at thirty thousand feet, the change in the air was palpable and thick with the scent of established power and old dominance.I had forgotten how suffocating it felt to be in another Alpha’s domain.“Mama, look! I can see the buildings!” Ethan pressed his face against the window, his breath fogging the glass. His excitement was pure, untainted by the dread coiling in my stomach like a living thing.He had no idea what we were flying into.I had spent the entire flight trying to prepare him, to find words that would explain without explaining too much. Your grandmother can be… difficult. The people we’re going to see, they’re complicated. Just stay close to me, okay?But how did I explain that we were walking into a pack that had cast us out? That his father didn’t know he existed? That every instinct in my body was screaming

Sophie’s POVThe words punched the air from my lungs. Soso whimpered, wanting to tell our pup the truth, to howl our grief and rage and longing to the Moon Goddess who gave us a fated mate we couldn’t have.“Lots of people have grey eyes,” I said, taking the magazine and setting it aside with hands that shook. “Come on, let’s get you dinner. I promised we’d try that new taco place, remember?”I’d gotten good at deflecting over the years, at building walls around the truth and at pretending the bond didn’t still sing in my blood, calling me back to a mate who’d rejected everything we could have been.The taco place was cheerful and loud, and Ethan chattered about his day while I nodded and smiled and tried not to think about grey eyes and broken bonds. But my dear Soso was restless, pacing beneath my skin like she could sense something coming.I saw a letter immediately we git home waiting for me. Cream-colored, with a return address that made my wolf snarl and my human heart stutter.

Sophie’s POVTell me you don’t feel it, Sophie. Tell me the bond means nothing to you.”I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal. His voice still echoed in my ears, rough and demanding, even as the afternoon light streaming through my studio windows dragged me back to reality. My cheek was stuck to my forearm, a fabric swatch pressed into my skin leaving little indentations, and my body hummed with a heat that had nothing to do with the Los Angeles sunshine.“Mama? I’m hungry.”I sucked in a sharp breath, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin as I straight“ened too quickly. Ethan stood in the doorway, his small hands gripping the frame, and those grey eyes—those damn grey eyes that were a mirror of his father’s—watched me with concern that no six-year-old should have to feel.“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I managed to say, my voice rough from sleep and dreams I had no business having. Dreams that felt more like memories of my fated mate, the one bond I sh

Silence.Then, in a voice that was very quiet and very controlled, "She's escalating.""Yes.""She knows something is closing in.""That's what I think too." I wrapped both hands around the mug. "Diana wants everything Marcus has. She wants to speak with him directly. She thinks if we can establish Natalie's involvement this whole thing transforms from a messy divorce into a fraud case."Adrian was quiet for a moment. "Let me make some calls.""Adrian…”“Not to interfere with Marcus or Diana. Just to supplement." His voice was measured, careful. "I told you I have resources. People who can trace financial transactions faster than a one man forensic operation. People who specialize in exactly this kind of digital fraud." He looked at me. "With your permission."I looked back at him. At the steadiness of him, the absolute lack of performance in his expression. Just a man sitting on a porch step on a Saturday morning offering to use everything he had to help someone he cared about."Okay

I called Diana from the porch of the house while Adrian made lunch inside.She answered on the first ring, which told me she'd been waiting."Ivy. Good, I'm glad you called quickly.""Your email said it was important." I sat on the wooden porch steps, looking out at the property, the long grass still damp from the morning. "What's happening with the settlement?""Ethan's lawyer contacted me at eight this morning. On a Saturday, which tells you how eager they are to move." Papers shuffled in the background. Diana apparently worked weekends without apology. "They're proposing a full settlement within thirty days. They want the house, the joint investment accounts, and they're offering you a single lump sum payment.""How much?""Fifty thousand dollars."I let out a short sharp laugh. "That's insulting.""It is. The house alone is worth nearly two million in the current market and the joint accounts hold approximately three hundred and forty thousand dollars. They're offering you fifty t

He thought about it for a moment, stepping over a root that crossed the path."I collect maps," he said.I looked at him. "Maps?""Old ones. Antique. The older the better. I have about sixty in the apartment, most of them framed, some just stored flat in drawers because I ran out of wall space." He glanced sideways. "There's something about the way people understood the world before they had complete information. The gaps and guesses and the places where mapmakers just wrote things like 'here there be monsters' because they genuinely didn't know.""That's not what I expected you to say.""What did you expect?""I don't know. Something more serious. Business related.""You said not resume stuff.""Fair point." I watched a bird move through the branches above us. "I like that. The maps thing." Something about it felt right for him, for the way he paid attention to things, the way he sat with uncertainty instead of rushing to fill it with false certainty."Your turn," he said."Something

The kitchen smelled like coffee and something sweet.Adrian was at the stove when I padded in barefoot, hair loose and probably embarrassing, wearing the gray sweater and the leggings I'd slept in because I hadn't wanted to take time to change when there was coffee involved.He heard me come in and looked n his shoulder."Morning," he said, like the word was something easy and familiar between us already."Morning." I went straight for the coffee maker, poured myself a mug, wrapped both hands around it. Took a sip and closed my eyes because it was exactly the right temperature and strength, and for one perfect moment my entire existence narrowed down to just that."I told you I'd bring my own coffee," I said."And yet here you are drinking mine.""I forgot.""You didn't forget."I opened my eyes. He was watching me with something quiet and amused in his expression, spatula in hand, completely at ease in this kitchen that wasn't even his in a way that made the whole scene feel disarmin

I chopped. He cooked. We stood side by side in a kitchen that smelled like garlic and herbs and something deeper and warmer underneath, and the ease of it was almost frightening. How naturally we moved around each other. How little space the silence between us needed to be filled.We ate at the big wooden table with the fire going in the next room and wine that he'd chosen without consulting me, which I was ready to object to until I tasted it."Don't say anything," he said, watching my face."I wasn't going to say anything.""You were going to make a comment about me ordering without asking.""I was going to say it's good," I said. "Which it is. Annoyingly."He smiled. "I'll ask next time."There it was again. Next time. Said with the same casual certainty as before. Like next times were already a given, already being planned for, already assumed into existence.After dinner we sat in front of the fire with our wine glasses and for a long time neither of us said much. The fire crackl

Friday afternoon couldn't come fast enough.By the time five o'clock arrived I had packed a small bag the night before, unpacked it twice because I didn't know what you brought for a weekend away with a man who wasn't quite your boyfriend but was definitely more than a friend, and finally repacked it with the decisive energy of someone who had bigger things to worry about than whether to bring the gray sweater or the navy one.I brought both.Adrian's car was waiting outside the Rhode building when I came down, same driver, same sleek black car that I was starting to recognize like an old acquaintance. He was already inside, jacket off, looking out the window at the Friday evening traffic with the particular stillness of someone who had learned to be patient with things they couldn't control.He looked up when I got in."You brought a big bag," he said."I didn't know what to pack.""Good thing the house has everything.""Then why did you tell me to pack?""Because telling you not to