Novels by G. Gordon

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains contents of violence that may disturb sensitive readers and can be triggering for survivors of trauma and abuse.(Quinn’s perspective)I lay on the cold stone floor, the chill biting into my skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my bones. Every part of me throbbed, a dull reminder of what I had become—a prisoner, a plaything for the pack to break.My breathing was shallow, each inhale laced with pain. Ribs—probably cracked. Lips—split and crusted with dried blood. Eye—swollen shut. The room stank of iron, sweat, and fear. My fear. Their victory.They’d beaten me again today, just like yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.At first, I thought I’d die from it. I hoped I would. Death would’ve been a mercy, an escape. But no. My cursed blood healed me. Every single time. Bones snapped back into place, bruises faded, and cuts stitched themselves together. I was the perfect punching bag—never staying broken long enough

(Luca’s perspective)I’ve faced a lot of crap in my life. Fought battles I wasn’t ready for, took hits that should’ve left me dead, and carried burdens no one else even saw. But this?This was something else entirely.Quinn.Mated. To Cale.The moment he hinted at it—casually, like it was nothing—I felt the air shift. It wasn’t just the atmosphere; it was like the earth itself tilted beneath me. A force, raw and gut-wrenching, dug into my chest.It settled deep in my bones, an ache I couldn’t shake.And my heart?Gone.Ripped. Shattered. Scattered into a million pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last.I didn’t even realize my hands had curled into fists until I felt the sharp sting. My claws had broken through my skin. Blood pooled in my palms, warm and sticky. The pain barely registered—lost in the storm of rage swirling inside me.I turned around. Walked. No. Stormed away from the gala.Quinn’s voice called after me, a soft echo of concern and confusion. I didn’t stop. I coul

(Quinn’s perspective)I’ve been through hell and I’ve felt pain so deep it hollowed me out from the inside.But this…this was different. It wasn’t pain. It was rage.And it burned hotter than anything I’ve ever felt.Luca’s father just stood there, cool and composed, like he hadn’t just dropped the most soul-crushing, world-shattering proposal in the history of terrible proposals.Casey. Fucking Casey.I stared at the woman who stood beside Cale, her head high, sharp eyes flicking between Luca and me, like she already won.I don’t cry and I don’t break. Not anymore but right now? I was dangerously close. What’s worse was that Luca was watching me. His eyes locked onto mine, searching. For what? A sign? A reaction? He wouldn’t get one. Not from me.But my eyes—they betrayed me, and I could feel it. The sting. The way they glistened. I blinked. No tears. Not here, but shit, of course Casey noticed.Her lips curved into a smile, slow and deliberate, like she could taste my discomfort. Sh

(Luca’s Perspective)I wasn’t supposed to be here.Not lurking behind doors, not eavesdropping on conversations that had my blood boiling. But here I was. Watching. Waiting.Quinn’s voice trembled as she faced him—the man, the wolf, whatever the hell he was—threatening her. My Quinn. No, his Quinn now.I’d heard enough.I stepped into the room, slow and deliberate, every movement calculated to keep the anger simmering just below the surface.“Who the hell do you think you are, threatening my mate?” I growled, my voice low but loud enough to make heads turn.The man didn’t flinch. No, he smirked—a cold, arrogant curve of his lips that sent a chill down my spine. Something about that smile…And then it hit me.Recognition slammed into me like a freight train.The Echo.He wasn’t some misty, shapeless presence anymore. No dark whispers from shadows or fleeting glimpses in nightmares. He was here. In the flesh.“Impossible,” I whispered, my eyes narrowing. “How... How are you—?”“Fully fo

(Luca’s Perspective)She was here.The moment Quinn walked into the gala, everything in me froze. It was like time screeched to a halt, and the air thinned until I couldn’t breathe. The sight of her—her scent—hit me like a punch to the gut. That familiar sweetness, laced with something darker now, something sharp. It was her. It was Quinn.But not the Quinn I remembered.Ethan must’ve felt it too because his head snapped toward her as fast as mine did. His golden eyes flashed for half a second, and then he turned to me, his face pale. “No way,” he muttered under his breath.I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My heart was pounding so loud it drowned out the chatter and the soft music playing in the hall.She was walking beside a man I didn’t recognize—a tall, arrogant bastard with an air of possession. He had his arm looped through hers like she was a trophy. Her chin was held high, her movements slow and deliberate, but I knew her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders. She didn’t w

The week leading up to the gala was a blur of hell disguised as preparation. Cale was on a power trip, pacing and plotting, going on about alliances and territories like he was a war general. Apparently, the gala was his grand re-entrance into the world of packs. He was at full strength now, his army of twenty wolves polished and lethal, and I—his broken, hollow Luna—was supposed to be the cherry on top.“You’ll act like the Luna I chose,” he said one night, his tone sharp enough to cut. “Behave. Look the part. Be perfect.”Perfect. Right.That’s where Casey came in.Casey, Cale’s Beta. The woman I hated more than I hated him—if that was even possible.She’d been my “trainer” for years, which was just a polite way of saying “torturer.” Casey didn’t hold back. Not with the physical drills. Not with the verbal abuse. And definitely not with the humiliation. She had full reins to mold me into Cale’s version of a perfect Luna, and she relished every second of it.“Shoulders back. Chin up.