Novel-novel oleh Eyareosowo Cletus

Chapter 5Evelyn’s POV "Absolutely not," I said.Tasha held the dress higher, as if distance were my only objection. It was a pool of deep red silk, cut dangerously low in the front and even lower in the back, featuring a thigh-high slit that would end somewhere north of decency."Absolutely yes," Tasha countered, her voice unyielding. "Den rules, Evie. If you walk that floor, you look like you belong on it. This isn't Memorial Hospital. Nobody pays to see sensible shoes."We were in her cramped apartment, three hours before my first shift, and she had been systematically reconstructing me for two of them. My hair, freed from its neat nurse’s bun for the first time in years, fell in loose, dark waves past my shoulders. The face staring back at me from her vanity mirror belonged to a complete stranger. Smoky eyeshadow. A blood-red mouth. High, sharp cheekbones I hadn't realized I possessed.I hated it.I hated every single second of it. Not because it looked bad—but because it looked

Chapter 4Evelyn's POVDr. Okafor found me in the ICU waiting room just after sunrise.I knew him. I'd worked codes with him, passed him charts, shared bad coffee with him at three in the morning. The look on his face was the one we were all trained to wear, professionally gentle, and seeing it aimed at me made my knees go loose."Evelyn." He sat down next to me instead of standing over me. Small mercy. "It's an ischemic stroke. A significant one. We've started treatment, but there's swelling, and with her age and her heart condition..."The words washed over me. Some of them landed. Intubated. The next seventy two hours are critical. Long term care. Rehabilitation, if she stabilizes.If."Can her wolf..." He was pack. He'd understand. "Is her wolf helping at all?"Dr. Okafor's jaw tightened. He shook his head slowly."Her wolf is too old, Evelyn. Too weak. Whatever healing she had left, it's gone. It's going to be machines and medicine from here. All of it human. All of it slow."And

Chapter 3Evelyn's POVMom wrapped me in the old quilt from the back of the couch. The one with the faded sunflowers that she'd stitched the winter Dad died."Drink," she said, pressing a mug of moonflower tea into my hands. "Small sips."My hands were shaking so badly the tea rippled. She closed her fingers over mine to steady them, and that small act of kindness broke me all over again."I lost the baby, Mama." I hadn't said it out loud yet. Saying it made it real. "I lost my pup."Her face crumpled. She didn't say it will be okay. She didn't say everything happens for a reason. She just pulled my head against her chest and held me while I shook, her old heart beating slow and steady under my ear."He rejected me," I whispered into her robe. "He said the words, Mama. In front of her. He rejected me and my body just... let go."Mom's arms tightened. I felt something wet land in my hair. She was crying too, silently, the way she'd cried at Dad's burial. Grief without sound. Omega grie

Chapter 2 Evelyn's POV Three months pregnant? This was too much to be just a one time coincidence. They'd been planning this. From the way she spoke about their plans, it all started to make sense now. I should have noticed. The way they spoke so casually while I made breakfast every morning. While I ironed his shirts and packed his lunches and told him I loved him before he left for work. I should have scented it. That was the part that shamed me most. A wolf is supposed to know. A mate is supposed to know. But Marcus had been careful, showering before he came home, drowning himself in cologne, and I had been too trusting to question why his scent never sat right on his skin anymore. Or maybe my wolf had known all along, and I just refused to listen to her. "The house is in my name," Marcus said, his voice businesslike now, like we were discussing a real estate transaction and not the destruction of my entire world. "I'll give you a week to pack your things and get out." He s

Chapter 1Evelyn’s POV The champagne bottle slipped from my fingers and shattered across the marble floor the moment I saw my husband’s bare back moving in sync with my sister’s naked body. For three seconds, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The red rose petals I’d scattered on our bed that morning were crushed beneath them. They were tangled on the special occasion silk sheets that I changed this morning to celebrate this memorable day, There were small moaning sounds coming from her, the words were almost a whisper, but I could still hear it, every bit of it. “Yes Marcus, oh baby, tell me I’m the best.” She had asked between shaky breaths of pleasure. “You know that you’re the absolute best thing that happened to me..” Marcus replied immediately amidst Moans. Though my eyes was seeing the two, my mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening, to say I was hurt would be an understatement. “Marcus?” I found myself calling him in disbelief. My voice was ba

Chapter 5Amara’s POV The neon sign of the local wine bar buzzed softly against the humid Italian night. I pushed through the heavy wooden door, the thick scent of oak casks, fermented grapes, and cheap tobacco hitting me all at once. The place was packed, a chaotic blur of locals laughing, shouting in rapid Italian, and swaying to a slow, sultry jazz melody that echoed from the corner speakers.I navigated the crowd with numb steps, dragging my small leather suitcase behind me until I found an empty wooden stool at the far end of the dark, polished bar. I climbed up, my muscles aching, and slammed my remaining cash onto the sticky counter."The strongest red you have," I told the bartender, my voice hoarse. "Keep them coming."He didn't ask questions. Within minutes, a heavy glass filled with deep, blood-red wine was placed in front of me. I didn't sip it. I swallowed half the glass in one burning gulp, letting the alcohol bleed into my system, desperately trying to drown the memory

Chapter 4 Amara’s POV The silence of the guest room was the heaviest thing I had ever carried. I sat on the edge of the mattress, my knees pulled tightly to my chest, staring blankly at the beige carpet. The door was locked. It had been locked since yesterday, ever since I walked out of my own bedroom and left my husband and my sister tangled in my sheets. Knock. Knock. "Amara? Please open the door." It was Naya, one of the older pack maids who had always looked out for me. Her voice was muffled, thick with worry. "You haven't eaten in twenty-four hours. Just a little soup, please?" I didn't move. My inner wolf was coiled tightly at the back of my mind, her spirit bruised and weeping, completely exhausted from the endless suffocating grief. "Amara, listen to me," Naya whispered, her forehead pressing against the wood on the other side. "Don't let them do this to you. Don't let them look at you and see a broken woman. You are the Luna of this pack. If you lock yourself away, the

Chapter 3Amara’s POVI don't remember getting to the guest wing.I remember the hallway moving past me in pieces. I remember my hand leaving a smear on the wall because I couldn't walk straight. I remember locking the door and sliding down against it, and then there's a hole in my memory where the next few hours should be.When I came back to myself, it was dark outside, and I was lying on the guest room floor in my funeral dress, and the place inside me where Naya lived was still silent."Naya?" I whispered into my own mind. "Naya, please."Nothing. Just an ache, like a bruise on my soul.They teach you about rejection when you're young. One line in the pack school books: a severed bond takes time to heal. They don't tell you your own wolf can go so deep into grief that she stops answering. They don't tell you how loud your head becomes when the one voice that's been there your whole life goes quiet.I lay on the floor and let myself count everything I had lost in forty-eight hours.

Chapter 2 Amara’s POV She smiled. My baby sister smiled at me from my own bed, with my husband's arm draped across her waist, and for several seconds nobody in that room made a sound. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My brain kept trying to rearrange what I was seeing into something else. A mistake. A hallucination. Grief playing tricks on me. "Chloe..." Her name came out of me as a whisper. Broken. Like maybe, if I said it gently enough, she would turn into someone else. "Hi, sis," she said softly. Hi, sis. The room tilted and I felt dizzy. I grabbed the door frame to stay standing. Michael sighed. Not gasped. Not scrambled. Not reached for an excuse. He sighed, the way a man sighs when his meeting is interrupted, and sat up against the headboard. "You were supposed to be at the cemetery," he said. That was his first sentence. Not I'm sorry. Not it's not what it looks like. An accusation. I had come home too early and inconvenienced him. "The cemetery," I repeated.

Chapter 1Amara’s POV "I'm sorry. We couldn't save him."The doctor's voice was quiet. Too quiet for words that ripped my whole world apart.I stared at her. My body was still shaking from twelve hours of labor. My gown was soaked with sweat. My arms were already reaching out, waiting for the weight of my son."No," I said. "No, I felt him kicking this morning. Check again.""Luna Amara...""Check again!"She didn't move. A nurse behind her lowered her head.That was when I saw the small bundle on the table. Wrapped in a blue blanket. Not moving. Not crying.Silent."Give him to me," I whispered."Luna, I don't think that's...""Give me my son."They placed him in my arms. He was so light. So small. His little face was peaceful, like he was only sleeping. He had Michael's nose. My lips.Six years. Six years of tests and treatments and negative results and crying alone in bathroom stalls. Six years of the pack whispering that their Luna was barren. And when the Moon Goddess finally bl