Novels by Dewa Brooks

ZOE ELISE~~I stiffened because there was no mistaking the deep, terrifying growl that had already made the hairs on my arms stand up in my first few minutes inside this mansion.Slowly, I turned around. And there he was. Alpha King Weston.He was sitting in the doorway. His gray eyes were fixed on me.Not the room. Not the machines beside his daughter.Me.And if looks could kill, I was pretty sure I would have been dead before I could even apologize.My mouth opened, but nothing came out.His gaze dropped to my hand… the one that was still hovering dangerously close to Maisie's, and his jaw tightened.“Didn’t Theo warn you against stepping into this room in my absence?” He demanded. “I—” Again, my words caught in my throat, so I had no choice but to swallow them all. “You were told not to enter this room.” His voice was low now, yet that was worse than the snarl.I straightened slowly. “Y-yes, my King.” “Then why the fuck did you step in? Why are you standing close to my daug

ZOE ELISE~~“This will be your room, Zoe.” Theo had immediately taken me on a tour of the mansion, showing me all the places I was allowed to step into before he even took me to my room. He had carried my bags during the tour, so I couldn’t complain.If anything, I was beginning to wonder whether I had somehow walked into paradise.I mean, the place was huge. I wasn't allowed in a larger part of it, yet it was ridiculously huge.I'd lost count of how many rooms we'd passed, and I was pretty sure I'd already forgotten half of the hallways we'd walked through before we stopped at the room that was meant to be mine. Theo opened the door and held it while I slowly stepped into the space.I barely took two steps in before my legs stopped and my mouth fell open. “Oh, dear goddess.”Theo walked past me and placed my bags beside the bed, but I barely noticed because I was lost in a trance state. The room was bigger than the one I'd lived in for the past ten years. Or the shared room I

ZOE ELISE~~I kept staring at him.I knew I shouldn't. Actually, I knew I really, really shouldn't.But there was something about Alpha King Weston that made looking away almost impossible.Maybe it was the way he sat there, dominating the entire room despite the wheelchair holding his weight.Or maybe it was those gray eyes.Cold.Sharp.And currently fixed on me like he was trying to figure out exactly what kind of trouble had just walked into his home.My stomach twisted.Now that I had a good look at him, I must say, he didn't seem as scary as everyone claimed.Instead of a beast, I saw a man.An intimidating one, sure.But still a man.And, unfortunately, a very handsome one.His dark hair was slightly damp, making him look like he'd just stepped out of, or perhaps wheeled himself out of, a shower. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass, and those broad shoulders—Damn.In the blink of an eye, I had somehow decided that the inner chamber of hell would have the right kind of hea

ZOE ELISE~~Thirty minutes was more than enough time to pack up my twenty-one years of life into two duffel bags. I stood at the foot of a bed that would no longer be mine, telling myself I was only checking to see if I'd forgotten anything.But there wasn’t much to take. Aside from the memories that I would rather forget.I shook my head, refusing to dwell on it any longer. There was no reason to make leaving harder than staying had been. I took one last look around the room before grabbing my bags.“There was nothing else to take.”Or so I told myself until I reached the door, and Peach gasped through our bond, “You forgot the case!” My hand froze on the doorknob, my face wrinkling as I blurted, “What case?”“The bracelet case under—" Peach didn’t have to finish that statement before my fingers uncurled around the bags. I spun around and hurried back to the bed. My eyes immediately found the small, faded-blue case tucked beneath my pillow.I grabbed it, but it wasn’t until I o

ZOE ELISE~~I wasn’t one of the good girls.I used to be, but I was eight years old when I first realized that being good didn’t automatically mean people would choose you.“We can’t take her home.”My tenth prospective family that year said those words to Flora, the matron of Crescent Moon Orphans’ Haven, after I'd spent the entire morning preparing to leave with them.Their eyes had scrutinized me from head to toe as if they were deciding whether I was worth taking home. Eventually, they left with a younger girl. Their reason was simple: “She was abandoned outside the orphanage. She could be a cursed child, for all we know.”The next week, another family rejected me. The month after that, another. Eventually, I stopped counting. But the rejection didn’t stop. One morning, I sat between a woman and her husband while they spoke to Flora as though I wasn't even there.“If her parents didn't want anything to do with her, why should we?” the woman uttered without remorse.Her husban