Novel-novel oleh Jo Peters

Julie's POV “What is it, Julie?” Raynard asked again, his voice was low and sharp, but I didn’t answer.I didn’t move, couldn't even breathe too loudly, I just let the silence stretch between us. My heart pounded, my wolf quivering weakly inside me, unsure and fragile.Raynard’s patience snapped. Before I could speak, he grabbed my phone from my hand, his fingers tight around it in a cold and possessive way. His steel-gray eyes scanned the screen, and the first words made his expression tighten“What the fuck is Voss writing?” he growled, his voice cracking with disbelief and rising anger. “This truly is a game, right? She’s the one inciting all these nonsense thoughts into you, making you let someone else touch you, isn’t it? He wasn't even done.You parading yourself in that dress, laughing at Mike’s compliments, letting him put his fucking hands on you… all so you could force my hand?”I stared at him, my chest aching with a mix of hurt and exhaustion. “What do you mean, Raynard

Julie's POV The garden was way too quiet.The soft rustle of leaves and the distant trickle of water from the stone fountain did little to calm the restless energy humming beneath my skin. I sat on the wrought-iron bench beneath the arch of blooming roses, one leg crossed over the other. The high slit of my crimson dress fell open, exposing smooth, glowing thighs to the warm afternoon air. My heart still raced from the confrontation in Raynard’s office, but I refused to let it show. This was my choice and my rules now.I knew someone would come, the question was which one.“Careful, Luna… sitting out here alone like this is dangerous.”I didn’t turn immediately. I let his voice wash over me, let the moment stretch just enough to feel powerful before I slowly lifted my gaze.Alpha Mike Harlan leaned against the stone pillar at the garden entrance, his eyes already locked on me with undisguised hunger.I smiled faintly. “Dangerous?” I echoed softly. “I thought I was perfectly safe wi

Julie's POV The next morning, I woke up with a cold, clear purpose burning in my chest.No more tears, no more begging. No more waiting for Raynard to decide whether I was worth touching. If my wolf was going to survive these two months, I would save her…. by hook or by crook. And if that meant reminding the men around me that I was not invisible, then so be it.So I dressed to kill.The deep crimson gown hugged every curve, the neckline plunging down my cleavage just enough to draw the eye, the fabric slit high up one thigh to reveal smooth, glowing skin with every step. My dark hair fell in soft waves, and I added a touch of bold red lipstick. For the first time in years, I looked like a Luna who knew her worth… not the forgotten wife hiding in the shadows.Word had spread that Alpha Mike Harlan of the Stormridge Pack was arriving today to discuss support for my father’s council election. Raynard had not invited me to the meeting. Why would he? But that didn’t stop me.I walked str

Julie's POV My phone felt heavy in my trembling hands as I sat on the edge of the bed, the silk robe still hanging loosely around my body. The dream refused to fade, the heat of Raynard’s tongue, the stretch of his fingers inside me, my own broken pleas echoing in my ears. My skin was still flushed, my core aching with unfulfilled need, and the air conditioning did nothing to cool the shame burning through me.I dialed my father’s number before courage failed me completely. The line rang once… twice…“Hello, Julie.”His voice was clipped, already laced with that familiar impatience that made my stomach drop.“Hey, Dad.”“Hey to you too.” He paused, and I could almost see him leaning back in his office chair, rubbing his temple the way he always did when I disappointed him. “Now what’s this nonsense I hear about you getting a divorce? Where did you learn that from, huh? Have you lost your mind completely?”I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping the phone tighter. “Dad… it’s not

Julie's POV The Luna’s quarters felt heavier that evening, the air thick with anticipation and dread. After a tense dinner where Raynard had barely spoken two words to me, I retreated to the shower, hoping the hot water would soothe my frayed nerves and wash away the sting of his earlier dismissal.Steam billowed around me, fogging the marble walls and the large glass enclosure. I stood under the spray, letting it cascade over my bare skin, my hands moving mechanically with the soap.My mind, however, refused to be quiet. The forged diagnosis echoed in my thoughts—two months to live unless I mated with him repeatedly. My wolf was so weak, yet the mere idea of Raynard’s touch made her stir with desperate longing. I lathered soap over my arms, my breasts, my stomach, trying not to imagine his hands doing the same. But the images came anyway, unbidden and vivid.Then the bathroom door clicked open.I gasped, the soap slipping from my fingers as Raynard stepped inside without a single wo

Julie's POV My words hung in the air like a live grenade.He just kept looking at me like I'd spoken a strange language.I repeated myself again just to make sure he heard me. I just hoped my heavy breathing wouldn't give me out.“Raynard… I’m dying. And the only way I can survive the next two months is if you…..”“Yeah…yeah…I'm not deaf, I heard you the first time?” His voice cracked like thunder as he cut me short while coming closer to me. He snatched the forged medical reports from my trembling hands, scanning them with furious speed. “You’re what? Lunar Atrophy? What the fuck is that? Two Months? This is bullshit.”He slammed the papers down on the small table, the sound echoing off the walls. “Your father did this. That scheming bastard sold you to me for a council seat and now he’s found another way to twist the knife. An arranged marriage wasn’t enough, he has to curse my bloodline again!”I flinched, but he wasn’t finished. He paced the small room like a caged wolf, his broa

Clara's POVI woke to sunlight and the weight of Cameron's arm across my waist.For a moment, I didn't remember. The penthouse was quiet, the city soft and golden through the windows, and his body was warm against my back, his breath slow and even. I felt safe and whole.Then the memories crashed in.The festival. Joe's voice. His hand on my wrist. The punch. The blood. The chaos.I sat up too fast, my heart hammering.Cameron stirred beside me, his hand reaching for me automatically. "Hey, hey. You're okay." His voice was rough with sleep, but steady. "You're safe, we're home."I looked at him. His lip was still swollen. The bruise on his jaw had darkened overnight and spreading across his cheekbone like a storm. But his eyes were clear, and he was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered."You're hurt," I said."I've had worse.""Cameron…""I've had worse," he repeated, sitting up slowly. He winced, one hand going to his ribs, and I saw the bruise there too, it was purp

Joe's POVThe holding cell smelled like bleach and fear. I sat on a hard plastic bench, my back against the cold wall, and stared at the scuff marks on the floor. My suit was ruined—blood on the collar, wine on the sleeves and a tear at the knee from when bloody bastard had slammed me against the fountain. My face throbbed, my ribs ached and every breath reminded me that I had lost.Not just the fight. Everything.The door at the end of the hallway clanked open. Heavy footsteps approached and a guard I hadn't bothered to learn the name of appeared outside my cell."You're being released. Someone posted your bail."I stood up slowly, my joints protesting. "Who?"The guard didn't answer. He just unlocked the door and gestured for me to follow.The waiting area was empty except for one man.He was standing near the vending machines, his back to me, wearing a tailored overcoat that probably cost more than most people's rent. His hair was the same dark brown as mine, but cut shorter and ne

Clara's POVThe penthouse was dark when we finally made it through the door.Cameron didn't turn on the lights. Neither did I. The city glowed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the floor, and we stood in the middle of the living room, still breathing hard, still vibrating with everything that had happened.His face was a mess. Blood had dried on his lip. A bruise was already blooming across his jaw. His shirt was torn at the collar, stained with wine and champagne and his own blood. He looked like he had been in a war.He looked beautiful."Sit down," I said."I'm fine.""Sit down, Cameron."He sat.I went to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth, warm water, and the first aid kit he kept under the sink. I knelt in front of him on the couch, my knees pressing into the cushions, and I began to clean his face.He watched me the whole time.His eyes were dark, unreadable and tracking every movement of my hands. I dabbed at the cut on his lip. He didn

Clara's POVThe silence after the punch lasted less than a second.Then Cameron moved. Not the way I expected. Not with a wild swing or a blind rage. He moved like an athlete, he was controlled, precise and devastating. His left hand shot out and grabbed Joe by the collar of his rumpled suit jacket. His right fist drew back."You want a show?" Cameron's voice was low, almost calm. "I'll give you a show."He punched Joe in the stomach.Joe doubled over, the air rushing out of him in a wet gasp. Cameron didn't let go of his collar. He held Joe up like a ragdoll, pulled him close, and spoke directly into his face."Never touch her again."Joe laughed. It was a horrible, breathless sound, half-choked and full of madness."Or what?" Joe wheezed. "You'll kill me? In front of all these people?"Cameron's jaw tightened.Joe saw the hesitation and he used it. He drove his forehead into Cameron's nose.The crack was sickening. Blood sprayed—Cameron's blood—and he staggered back, his grip on Joe

Clara's POVThe voice came from behind me."Hello, dear wife."Oh, dear God.The gallery courtyard was full of people—patrons, artists, journalists, strangers in expensive clothes holding wine glasses and pretending to care about art. I had been standing near the fountain, waiting for Cameron to come back with drinks, when I saw him and heard it. That voice. The one that had haunted my nightmares for four years.I turned around and saw Joe standing ten feet away.He looked terrible. His suit was rumpled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had lost weight—the wrong kind of weight, the kind that came from whiskey and despair instead of diet and exercise. But his smile was the same. That cold, knowing smile that said I own you even when he owned nothing at all."You look… different," he said.I didn't answer.He stepped closer. "All of this. This is new." He gestured at the gallery behind me, at the people, at the lights. "You've been busy."I found my voice. It came out steadier than I fel

Clara's POVThe morning of the festival, I woke before the sun.Not because I was nervous—although I was, my stomach was a tight knot of anxiety and excitement—but because the light was different today. I lay in Cameron's bed for a moment, listening to him breathe beside me. He was still asleep, one arm thrown over his head, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady rhythm. I didn't wake him. I just watched him for a moment and thought about how different my life was from the one I had lived a year ago.A year ago, I was waking up in Joe's house, in Joe's bed and in Joe's shadow.Today, I was waking up as an artist. A featured artist. At a festival I had dreamed about since I graduated from college.I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom to get ready.Emma arrived at the penthouse at eight o'clock, carrying a garment bag and a paper bag that smelled like croissants."Rise and shine, superstar," she announced, sweeping past me like she owned the place. "I brought options. Th