Novels by Rain

The chilling tendrils of the nightmare clung to Evelyn even after she jolted awake. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the oppressive silence of the predawn hours. Images of betrayal, of being lost and alone in a vast, empty space, flashed behind her eyelids. The air in her room felt thick, suffocating. She needed to breathe, to escape the lingering terror of the dream. Carefully, so as not to wake Grandma or disturb the quiet house, Evelyn slipped out of bed. The wooden floorboards were cool beneath her bare feet as she padded softly towards the living room. The large sliding glass door leading to the veranda beckoned, promising fresh air and the cool embrace of the night. She pushed the door open, stepping out into the cool, pre-dawn air. A gentle breeze rustled through the garden, carrying the faint scent of jasmine. Evelyn wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly, not just from the cold, but from the lingering fear. She hugged herself tighter,

The air in Grandma’s house, once thick with unspoken tension, was now imbued with a fragile, burgeoning warmth. Evelyn, despite her lingering fears, found herself gradually letting go, her rigid defenses softening with each passing day. Hunter’s quiet, consistent efforts were no longer just about seeking forgiveness; they were about a profound, unwavering commitment to making her feel truly seen, deeply loved, and utterly safe. He was not merely rebuilding trust; he was trying to mend the very fabric of their shared life, piece by painstaking piece. One morning, Evelyn awoke to a soft, tinkling melody. It was faint, barely audible, but unmistakably familiar. She pushed herself up, her heart thumping, and looked towards her nightstand. There, bathed in the gentle morning light, sat her old music box. The delicate antique, which she had found broken years ago and stored away, was now gleaming, its tiny ballerina poised. As she watched, the ballerina slowly twirled, its delicate tune fi

The dim light of the bedside lamp cast a soft glow on Evelyn’s sleeping face. Hunter knelt beside the bed, his hand hovering inches from her cheek, his heart a raw, aching knot in his chest. He watched her, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful curve of her lips. The temptation to bridge the distance, to finally give in to the overwhelming surge of longing that consumed him, became an unbearable weight. He had resisted for so long, had promised himself he would earn her trust, earn the right to touch her again, but in her vulnerability, in the quiet intimacy of the room, his resolve fractured. His gaze dropped to her lips, soft and slightly parted. He leaned in, slowly, irresistibly, drawn by a force he could no longer control. His breath ghosted over her skin, light and warm. He closed the last inch, his lips gently, tenderly, brushing against hers. It was a feather-light touch, a hesitant whisper of a kiss, a desperate plea for connection. For a fleeting second, a p

The morning sun, usually a gentle balm, felt like a harsh, unwelcome glare through Evelyn’s curtains. She stirred, a wave of nausea washing over her, churning her stomach with unsettling ferocity. Her head throbbed, a dull, insistent drumbeat behind her eyes, and her limbs felt strangely heavy, leaden. She pushed herself up, a groan escaping her lips as the room spun momentarily. Just a little lightheaded, she tried to convince herself, a bad night's sleep. But she knew it was more. She managed to make her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face, trying to quell the rising queasiness. Her reflection looked pale, her eyes shadowed. When she finally descended the stairs for breakfast, moving slower than usual, Hunter was already in the dining room with Grandma, a cup of steaming tea in his hand. He looked up as she entered, his gaze immediately sharpening, an almost imperceptible flicker of concern in his eyes. "Good morning, Evie," he said, his voice quiet, his usual m

The days at Grandma’s house continued their gentle unfurling, each passing moment weaving a delicate tapestry of quiet care and subtle shifts. Evelyn’s emotional fortress, though still formidable, was no longer impenetrable. Hunter’s consistent, unwavering presence, devoid of demands or expectations, was slowly, meticulously, eroding her defenses. He was now doing things he had never done before in their past, smaller, more intimate gestures that spoke a language Evelyn had always yearned for but rarely heard from him. Her mornings began with a silent ritual. Each day, a tray with her favorite herbal tea, steeped to perfection, would appear by her bedside. Beside the steaming mug, a hand-written note would lie, sometimes just a few words, sometimes a simple drawing. The first note had read: "Good morning, Evie. Hope you slept well. Tea is ginger and lemon today – for comfort." His handwriting, usually a hurried scrawl on business documents, was neat, almost painstaking. Evelyn stare

Days bled into weeks at Grandma’s house, each one a testament to the quiet, almost imperceptible shift in the atmosphere between Evelyn and Hunter. The initial sharp edges of her anger had softened into a dull ache, a pervasive sadness that lingered, but no longer consumed her. She still carried the weight of past hurts, the phantom pain of neglect, but Hunter’s unwavering presence and his meticulous, unobtrusive care had begun to chip away at her defenses. Evelyn no longer actively avoided him. The elaborate detours through the house, the hurried retreats to her room when she sensed his approach, had ceased. She accepted his presence, a silent acknowledgment of his role in her healing. When he offered a glass of water, she took it. When he silently adjusted the pillow behind her head while she read, she didn't flinch away. She might not offer a smile, or initiate conversation, but the outright rejection was gone, replaced by a quiet, watchful acceptance. Hunter, for his part, ma

Lily’s POVThe rest of the school day unfolded in a surreal, almost dreamlike state of forced normalcy. It was a carefully orchestrated performance, a collective act of denial played out against the backdrop of ringing bells and echoing hallways.No fights erupted, no sharp, sarcastic jabs were thrown my way, no cruel comments were uttered within earshot. The usual undercurrent of tension that often simmered beneath the surface of my interactions with Ryder and his entourage was strangely absent.But the silence that filled the void was far more deafening, more oppressive than any verbal assault. It was a thick, suffocating blanket that stifled the very air I breathed, a constant, aching reminder of the unspoken truth that hung heavy between us.Ryder didn’t speak to me again after that first, chillingly possessive “mate” jab in the morning. He moved through the crowded classrooms and bustling hallways as if I were invisible, a mere figment of his imagination. His booming laughter ech

Lily’s POVThe morning sun, usually a welcome sight, felt like an unwelcome intruder, its harsh, unforgiving rays streaming through the classroom windows as if determined to expose every raw nerve I had desperately tried to bury beneath a fragile veneer of normalcy the night before. It illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, each one a tiny, mocking reminder of the chaos that now reigned within me.School felt different today. Colder, somehow. Quieter, despite the usual morning bustle of students. Or maybe that was just my perception, the world around me muted and distorted as I walked through the familiar hallways like a ghost, a spectral presence pretending that everything was normal when the very foundations of my existence had irrevocably shifted.They were my mates.Ryder.Hunter.The words echoed in the hollow chambers of my mind, a relentless, insidious mantra that felt more like a curse than a blessing. Each syllable carried the weight of my past pain, the chilling unce

Lily’s POVThe walk back into the grand hall felt like traversing a tightrope suspended over a chasm of unspoken truths. Sam’s steady presence beside me was the only anchor in the swirling vortex of my emotions.My heartbeat hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the chaotic rhythm of my thoughts. My skin felt strangely disconnected, alternating between icy chills and sudden, unwelcome flashes of heat. The invisible thread that tethered me to them – Ryder and Hunter – seemed to tighten with each step I took toward the throng of smiling strangers and the looming table laden with brightly wrapped gifts.I forced a smile onto my face, a brittle, carefully constructed mask that felt alien and unnatural, as if it had been crudely glued there. My mom’s eyes, scanning the room, finally locked onto mine, and her entire face illuminated with a radiant joy that pierced my carefully constructed defenses. “There you are! We were starting to worry, sweetheart. Everyone’s waiting

Lily’s POVI stood there, by the edge of the shimmering turquoise water, the cold night air clinging to me like a damp, unwelcome shroud. The distant sounds of the party – the muffled laughter, the faint strains of music – seemed to mock the turmoil raging within me.The golden flickers of light spilling from the mansion’s windows danced across the surface of the pool, a distorted reflection of the joy I couldn’t share. My dress, a flowing expanse of soft blue silk that had felt so promising just hours ago, now felt heavy and constricting against my skin, a tangible representation of the weight that had settled in my soul.The door behind me creaked open again, the sound slicing through the stillness of the night. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The soft, rhythmic click of heels against the cool tile was unmistakable. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned to see my mother—Olivia—walking toward me, her silhouette framed by the warm glow emanating from the doorway. Concern was etched

Lily’s POV“Mates… mates… they’re our mates,” my wolf kept whispering, a mournful lament that echoed within the confines of my skull. It was a sound I had never heard from her before – a raw, wounded cry that tugged at my heartstrings despite my fierce resistance.“No,” I choked out, my voice a mere breath against the stillness of the night. My hands gripped the edge of the pool, my nails digging into the rough cement, as if I could anchor myself to reality, to the life I knew before this impossible revelation. “No, it can’t be. It can’t be.Of all the people in the world, the moon goddess, the supposed architect of our destinies, had to choose them? The sheer injustice of it was a bitter pill that threatened to choke me.Ryder—the devil incarnate, the golden boy whose casual cruelty had haunted my high school years. The one who tormented me with his cutting words, who humiliated me with his dismissive glances, who had even, on that horrific night, slapped me across the face, a brutal

Hunter’s POVThe celebratory air in the grand ballroom evaporated the instant that single, earth-shattering word echoed in the deepest recesses of my being. It wasn't spoken aloud, not by human tongue, but by the ancient, primal part of me – my wolf.Mate.The pronouncement hit with the force of a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs and sending a jolt of raw, untamed energy coursing through my veins. My wolf, usually a steady, watchful presence, surged forward with a ferocity I hadn't anticipated, a guttural snarl of pure instinct ripping through my consciousness.Mine. Ours. The claim was possessive, absolute, echoing the undeniable truth that resonated within the very core of my soul.No. The denial was a reflexive whisper in the face of such overwhelming certainty. No way. Not her. Lily? The quiet, almost invisible girl who navigated the halls of our lives like a ghost? The one Ryder… the one we had both, in our own ways, overlooked?And yet, despite the shock, despite

2 years later - The stage, still shimmering under the golden wash of the spotlights, echoed with the thunderous applause even as the velvet curtains descended, sealing off the spectacle. Selena stood at the heart of the stage, her chest heaving, her breath coming in ragged, triumphant gasps. The final, soaring notes of her performance, a culmination of years of relentless dedication, hung in the air, a testament to her talent. Yet, the audience's roaring cheers, a wave of unabashed adoration, confirmed what she already knew: she had captivated them.She had done it. She had finally reached the pinnacle she had so ardently pursued.From her early days as a precocious prima donna in the grand opera houses, where her crystalline soprano had enchanted audiences, to this very night—her Broadway debut as the leading lady of a prestigious opera troupe—her journey had been a testament to her unwavering spirit. Yet, as she took her final, graceful bow, her gaze fell upon a familiar sight wait

The soft glow of the fireplace flickered across the dimly lit living room, casting long, dancing shadows that painted the walls with a warm, intimate hue. Julian leaned back on the couch, his arm stretched along the top, a silent observer of Selena as she tucked her legs beneath her, creating a cozy nest of her oversized sweater. There was something about the way the firelight danced in her eyes, catching the subtle flecks of gold and amber, that made his chest tighten with a complex mix of tenderness and a vague, unsettling apprehension. He’d always admired her quiet strength, but tonight, there was a fragile vulnerability that both captivated and worried him."You've been quiet," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that barely disturbed the stillness, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The simple gesture was meant to be comforting, a gentle reminder of his presence, but he felt a flicker of unease at the way she flinched slightly, as if startled by his touc

Selena's breath hitched as Julian planted a series of soft, wet kisses down her neck, his teeth gently nibbling at the tender skin. His hands roamed freely across her body, leaving goosebumps and a warmth that felt like wildfire wherever they touched. He caressed her breasts, teasing the nipples until they were taut with desire.Feeling the firmness of his erection pressed against her, Selena couldn't resist any longer and reached down to stroke him slowly. The base of his cock felt thick and velvety in her grasp. Julian let out a deep moan that reverberated through her entire body, sending shivers dancing along her spine.Their limbs tangled together, Selena's legs wrapped around Julian's waist as their bodies moved in perfect sync. Their breathing grew ragged and desperate, their exhales and inhales mingling together in a symphony of passion.Julian's gaze lingered on Selena's flushed face and he paused for a moment, his pupils dilating with unbridled lust. "You are so beautiful," h

Every day was a new adventure, every moment a testament to their connection, their bond growing stronger with each passing hour. They explored the city together, sharing kisses in the rain, and dancing in the moonlight, their laughter echoing through the streets, their love a constant, steady flame, burning bright, warming their hearts.It was perfect, it was bliss, it was everything she had ever wanted, and as the days passed, and the months turned into years, Selena couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, fairytales could come true after all."Marry me," he whispered one night, his voice a low, husky murmur against her skin, his eyes filled with an intensity that made her heart ache."Aren't we already married?"He smiled. "I want to marry you again, grand and happily."She nodded, her smile a promise, her gaze filled with a love that spoke volumes, her answer a silent declaration of her devotion.He smiled, his expression tender, his gaze filled with a deep, unfathomable aff

They returned to their home at night.Home.Selena loved how the word felt on her lips, a promise, a hope, a dream come true.That night, after a romantic dinner in a dimly lit restaurant, their meal accompanied by a string quartet and a glass of rich, velvety wine, Julian led her upstairs, his touch reverent, his eyes dark with a passion that mirrored her own.When he touched her, when he kissed her, her mind went blank, a haze of desire, and her body, her body was on fire, aching, longing for the feeling of him, the warmth of his skin against hers, the intimacy of their shared pleasure.He gently pushed her on the bed and hovered above her.She felt his hand brush the sensitive spot on her stomach, moving up to her breasts and cupping them, teasing them, and she couldn't hold back the moans that escaped her lips.She closed her eyes and arched her back. His hot, wet mouth enveloped her left breast while his thumb circled the nipple of her right.He sucked, nipped and bit until the p

Paris was everything Selena had imagined, and yet, it was also so much more. It was a living, breathing dream, a symphony of sights, sounds, and scents that resonated deep within her soul. She had seen the postcards, read the novels, watched the romantic comedies, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared her for the sheer, intoxicating reality of being here. The city hummed with a vibrant energy, a palpable sense of history and romance that permeated every cobblestone street, every ornate building, every whispered conversation. Every corner held a story, every street exuded a timeless charm, and every glance Julian sent her way, every touch, every word, amplified the magic tenfold.Their first morning in Paris, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains of their bedroom, Julian had woken her with a gentle kiss on her forehead, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. "Get dressed, sweetheart. We’re going out." His voice, a low, husky rumble, w

The journey from the courthouse to her new "home" was a blur, the tinted windows of the sleek black car obscuring the outside world, much like the opaque future ahead of her. When the vehicle finally slowed, Layla felt a tremor of apprehension. She was led out not to a towering mansion, but to a luxurious modern house nestled on the edge of the city. It wasn’t ostentatious, but its clean lines, expansive glass panels, and meticulously manicured gardens spoke of understated wealth and impeccable taste. It was far, far nicer than anywhere she had ever lived, a stark contrast to the cramped apartments and the suffocating atmosphere of her adoptive home.As she stepped inside, the cool air enveloped her, carrying a faint scent of fresh flowers and expensive wood polish. The interior was a symphony of modern design: high ceilings, polished concrete floors softened by plush rugs, minimalist furniture, and large windows that offered breathtaking views of the urban sprawl blending into the d

The steel door clicked shut with a soft, ominous thud, the sound echoing in the opulent silence of the room. Layla rushed forward, her hands pressing against the cool metal, testing the handle. Locked. Of course. She turned, her glare finding the two impassive men in suits who stood just outside the door, guardians of her gilded cage.“Let me out,” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her attempt at authority.One of them, a man with eyes as unyielding as granite, offered a polite, almost regretful smile. “I’m afraid Mr. Frost’s instructions were quite clear, Ms. Hayes. You are to remain here until you’ve come to a decision.”“My decision is to leave!” she retorted, frustration and fear clawing at her.The other man, equally stoic, merely inclined his head. “With all due respect, Ms. Hayes, that is not an acceptable answer to Mr. Frost.”Layla stared at them, helpless. They were polite, yes, but their politeness was more terrifying than any overt threat. It conveyed an absolute,

The world dissolved into an oppressive, suffocating darkness. Rough hands, impersonal and unyielding, bound a thick cloth around Layla’s eyes, plunging her into a terrifying void. The muffled roar of traffic, the subtle shifts and turns, told her they were moving swiftly through the city. Each bump and swerve sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. She was a parcel, an object, stripped of her agency. The fear, a cold, sharp blade, pierced deeper with every passing second.Eventually, the movement ceased. The doors opened, and the chill of an air-conditioned environment washed over her. She was guided, prodded, through what felt like a vast, echoing space. Footsteps, crisp and precise, clicked on a hard floor. The air grew colder, almost icier, carrying with it the scent of expensive polish and a faint, masculine cologne. It was a scent she dimly recognized, a ghost of memory from that terrifying, forgotten night. The blindfold was yanked off, the sudden light searing her eyes. She

Layla woke with a pounding headache and a mouth as dry as sand. As her eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar bedroom, her heart froze. There was a man beside her, muscular, shirtless, and undeniably gorgeous. But he was a stranger. And she was naked.Flashes of the previous night hit her like knives, not as dialogues, but as vivid, brutal recollections of events. She remembered her adoptive parents, their faces contorted with fury, their shouts echoing in her ears as they accused her of "ungratefulness" during another one of their endless arguments. The memory of a stinging slap, a dizzying blow, and the coppery taste of blood in her mouth was sharp, followed by the frantic scramble to escape their violence, tearing her shirt in the process as she finally broke free, blood on the fabric.Barely having escaped that nightmare, she sought refuge with her boyfriend, Mark. The image of his apartment door, slightly ajar, the soft glow of a lamp within, was etched in her mind. Then, the gut-wre