Novels by Pretty Wicked

MIRELLEThe room was completely black. I could not see anything, not even my own hands. My heart was beating so hard I thought it might break out of my chest. I stood by the bed wearing Anya’s black lace mask, my body shaking with fear and a wild, hungry need. Callan’s breathing was heavy and rough. He still thought I was her.“Anya…” he whispered into the dark. His voice was low and full of heat. “Is that really you? Come here. I need you so bad.”I did not speak. If I said one word he would know it was me. I just stepped closer until my knees touched the soft edge of the mattress. His hand reached out blindly and found my waist. His fingers gripped me tight, pulling me down onto the bed with him. The second my body pressed against his, a hot shiver ran all through me.“God, Anya, you feel so good,” he groaned. His hands moved up under my dress, sliding over my bare thighs. “I missed this. I missed your soft skin. Take this dress off. I want to feel all of you.”My fingers trembled a

MIRELLEThe salty taste of my tears is still fresh when a sharp knock sounds at my bedroom door. I scramble up from the floor like a frightened animal, wiping my face with the sleeves of my dress. I cannot let Callan see me crying."Mirelle?" Callan’s deep voice calls out from the hallway. "Are you decent? Everyone is asking for you downstairs."I take a shaky breath, steady my nerves, and turn the brass knob.The door swings open, and Callan stands there looking breathtaking in a sharp tuxedo with a black silk mask in his hand. But the moment his dark eyes land on my face, his expression shifts instantly from confidence to deep suspicion. His brows pull together, and his gaze zeroes in on my swollen, bloodshot eyes."Mirelle," Callan says, his voice dropping an octave. He steps right into the room. "Why are you crying? Did someone say something to you?""No, no, Callan, nothing like that," I lied quickly, forcing an unconvincing smile. "I just got some dust in my eye while packing a

MIRELLEThe noise from the grand party downstairs sounds like a distant wave crashing against a shore, muffled by thick walls and heavy carpets. I am standing right in front of the tall dressing table, wearing the simple navy blue dress Callan picked out for me. My hands are trembling as I try to fix my hair, my heart still racing from the way he looked at me downstairs, from the warmth of his fingers against my skin.A sharp, sudden knock rattles the door.I jump, my breath catching in my throat. Before I can even say a word, the door swings open wide.It is my mother, Liora.She walks into the room with that familiar, hurried grace, her expensive silk dress whispering against the floor. Her blonde hair is styled in a tight, perfect bun, and her diamond earrings catch the bright light of the vanity lamp. But her face looks tight, strained around the edges."Mirelle," my mother says, her voice sharp and brittle, cutting through the quiet air of the room. "Are you still not ready yet?

MIRELLEThe sun is shining bright today on campus, and everybody is shouting and laughing out loud. Red and gold graduation hats are flying high up into the blue sky. Music is playing from the big speakers near the main gate, and people are taking pictures together with big smiles on their faces. It is a happy day for all the students who just finished university.Except for me.I am sitting alone on a wooden bench under a tall green tree far away from the noisy crowd. My fingers are shaking a little bit as I zip up my heavy black suitcase. Inside the suitcase are all my clothes, my old books, and the few things I managed to keep. My graduation cap is resting on top of the bench next to me, but I do not want to wear it. ItAcross the wide green lawn, a loud wave of noise suddenly sweeps through the crowd. The cheering starts near the entrance and spreads fast like fire through dry grass. Girls are giggling and whispering behind their hands, and boys are turning their heads to look.I