Novels by Julia Davis

Gerrard drew in a breath. “About what happened in the past…” I lifted a hand gently, trying to spare him the weight of it. “Gerrard, you don’t have to...” “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Please. Let me clear this.” I nodded, quietly waiting. “I never stopped loving you,” he said. “Not for a second. Even after finding out the truth, about who you were, why you came, I was angry, yes. I was hurt, and I felt betrayed… but the love never left. When we found your father during the raid on the Santorini Syndicate, I… God, I just felt so much. I realized how much pain you carried all alone... I knew I couldn't blame you, you did what you had to to survive” He paused and took a breath, his voice catching a little. “But I was a coward. I couldn’t accept you, even though you accepted me, for all that I am.” My eyes brimmed before I could stop them. I opened my mouth to say something, but he kept going, his voice low and urgent. “And when you left, trust me, Annabelle, I wanted to hold

I stood at the edge of my kitchen floor, the polished tiles warm under my bare feet, and for a long, quiet moment, I just let myself feel it all. The clinking of glasses, the laughter floating in from the terrace, the soft jazz curling through the air like smoke. The scent of rosemary, butter, garlic, and slow-roasted dreams wrapped around me like an embrace. Rivera Cuisine. My restaurant. My soul. My home. Named after my father, Philip Rivera; the man who taught me how to peel garlic and how to stand tall in a room that tried to shrink me. I wanted his name to live on, not tied to sorrow, not as a footnote in someone else’s story, but as something that meant warmth, comfort, healing. Something beautiful. The sign outside caught the light just right, the gold cursive glowing softly against the evening. And inside, warm woods, soft lighting, clean lines. Nothing loud, nothing flashy, just honest, just me. I had done it. After a year of intense training at Le Cordon Bleu, lon

It had been a full year since I first walked into the Amari Grace Project building, nervous and unsure, with barely more than a suitcase and a cracked heart.Twelve months later, I was no longer the same woman.I had rebuilt myself, slowly, steadily. Piece by piece. No longer shaped by fear or control, but by freedom, by healing, and by choice.Therapy wasn’t easy. There were weeks I cried more than I slept, and moments I nearly walked out. But I stayed. And for once, I didn’t run.I learned how to breathe again. How to trust my own voice. How to say no without guilt. I began to dream, not for someone else, not to survive, but for myself.And somewhere in that journey, I found my passion again.Cooking.I had always loved it, the rhythm of it, the creativity, the way food could bring comfort when words failed. At the Grace Project, they noticed. I was encouraged to train, to explore it professionally.And I did.From catering the weekly women’s circles, to hosting community brunches,

That night, I went back to the hotel where I had stayed after Gerrard left me stranded on the roadside.Everything looked just the same, the dimly lit hallway, the soft hum of the air conditioner, the faint scent of old furniture and citrus-scented cleaner. But something inside me was different now.I curled into the unfamiliar sheets, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning.For the first time, I saw my life for what it had been.I had never really lived for myself. I’d been passed from one man’s will to another, used, shaped, controlled. Bruno, Gerrard, Sammie. Even my father, in the quiet ways he’d taught me to shrink and please and stay silent.I had never truly owned my story.But now… I would start.A small, brave smile crept onto my face.And for the first time in a long while, I slept in peace.---The next morning, I woke early, my heart steady with quiet purpose.I opened my purse and pulled out the business card I had kept tucked away for months.Dante Amari.I stared

When I got home, I couldn’t find Sammie at first, but his car was parked out front. The house was quiet, too quiet. Eventually, I found him on the rooftop, standing by the edge, a glass in his hand. He was staring down at the city below, still and brooding. He must have seen me come in. Without turning, he spoke. “You went to see Gerrard, didn’t you?” I didn’t answer right away. The wind carried the scent of his drink, whiskey, sharp and bitter. He turned to face me, eyes dark with frustration. “I’m doing everything for you,” he said, his voice rising. “Everything. But no matter what I do, you keep crawling back to the man who threw you away.” I stood still, jaw clenched. “You embarrassed me today,” he snapped. “You said no. In front of everyone. After everything I’ve done for you. I gave you a home, safety, love. I’ve been patient, I’ve waited—God knows I’ve waited.” I still didn’t say a word. I was too angry, too disappointed to speak yet. He took a step closer, his tone

I decided to pick up the pieces of my life. It was slow, achingly slow, but every morning, I got up. I tried. I brushed my hair, sat by the window, and breathed. That was something. There wasn’t much to do, though. Sammie wouldn’t let me. He hovered constantly, wouldn't even let me cook for myself. He treated me like something delicate, something on the edge of breaking. I knew he meant well, and part of me appreciated it. But another part, tired, restless, grew irritated. I wasn’t fragile, I had been through fire. I could handle my own life, and yet, here I was, tiptoeing around someone else's version of care. One afternoon, Sammie came home looking lighter than I’d seen him in weeks. “I’ve wrapped up the business with Gerrard,” he said, grinning as he loosened his tie. “We’ll be heading back to Germany soon.” I forced a smile. “That’s good news.” He walked over and kissed my forehead. “We’ve done everything we needed to here. It’s time to start fresh.” But something in me re

“Father… council of Alphas… he is my chosen mate.”My voice softened.“If he still wants me.”Then I turned.“Xavier… I choose you as my mate.”For a moment, everything was silent, shock freezing the air.Then Xavier exhaled sharply, almost like a laugh of disbelief. He stepped toward me in three long strides and wrapped me in a tight, warm embrace. When he pulled back, his smile was bright and unguarded, full of pride and joy.Around us, murmurs rippled like a wave.Elliot’s face reddened, hurt, anger, disbelief all clashing in his eyes.My father stood slowly. “I have seen how Xavier fights for my daughter. How he protects her. How he looks at her.” He paused, his voice thickening. “I have no objections. But the question remains; who is he? From which pack does he come? I do not care whether he is Alpha or Omega. I only want my daughter’s happiness.”All eyes turned to Xavier.He stepped forward. Calm. Certain. Almost princely.“When I met Liora,” he began, “I fell in love with her

By the next day, we were back in Moonblood pack, where Alpha Callan formally introduced me to the pack as his true heir. I was accepted by all, and I felt like I was home, with my own people. --- Alpha Callan wasted no time, he sent messages to all the Alpha's of the realm and by the dawn of the next day, the palace grounds stirred with movement. Warriors guarded every entrance, and the air hummed with tension as one Alpha after another arrived, summoned urgently, restricted strictly to leaders alone. We could not risk traitors slipping into the heart of the strategy. By noon, the council chambers were full. Dozens of Alphas from every allied territory sat in a wide circle, Moonblood, Silvermoon, Ironfang, Duskriver, Thornridge, and even the rarely-seen Wintermane pack. Their faces were hard, wary, waiting. My father, Alpha Callan, stood at the center. “For years,” he began, his voice deep and steady, “the rogue king has taken our men, destroyed our borders, infiltrated

Luna Sabrina suddenly… laughed.A deep, hollow, chilling laugh that crawled under my skin.Her wrists were bound, but she looked at us with the wild triumph of someone who had nothing left to lose.“So what if our cover is blown?” she spat, smiling like a serpent. “Do you fools think this changes anything? The rogues will still destroy you all. Silas has powers your packs have never seen. You are all already doomed.”I felt Gina stiffen beside me.Then, as if her words were a signal, several Silvermoon soldiers stepped forward from the corners of the hall, followed by two Moonblood warriors. They moved silently, forming a line behind Luna Sabrina.My stomach dropped.Traitors.Inside both packs.They drew their weapons.Every loyal soldier instantly reacted, shields rising, steel clashing.The hall exploded into chaos.One of the traitor soldiers lunged toward me and Gina, blade raised......but before I could even raise my arm, a flash of steel cut through the air.The rogue soldier

The footsteps grew louder until a shadow filled the doorway.My heart almost stopped....but then the blur sharpened into the uniform of a Silvermoon guard.“Your presence is requested,” he announced.Relief washed over me, weak but real.Whatever this was, it wasn’t Ariana sneaking us out to deliver us to Silas.At the very least, it bought us time.Time for someone, anyone, to find us.Gina squeezed my hand as we followed the guard through torch-lit corridors. I tried to steady my limbs, but hunger made them feel like water.He led us into the Trial hall, the room where the Alpha conducts trials.And then I froze.Alpha Callan stood at the center of the hall.Beside him was Luna Sabrina.His elite guards flanked them in full armor.Ariana and Lana were also present, but their faces were twisted in confusion.Ariana stepped forward.“Father? Mother? What...what are you doing here?”Luna Sabrina folded her arms.“Your father said he had urgent business in Silvermoon, so I came along.

We were thrown into the palace holding cell like stray dogs. No food, no water.Just cold stone and darkness pressing against our skin.By nightfall, my head felt light, my throat raw, every breath scraping. Gina sat beside me, rubbing slow circles on my back even though she was shaking too.The iron door screeched open.Ariana stepped inside with Lana trailing behind her like a shadow.She didn’t bother hiding her smirk.“Is she really the one?” Ariana asked.Lana nodded once.“She is.”Ariana walked straight to me and grabbed me. Her fingernails dug into my skin as she yanked my shirt upward and forced the hidden mark to glow under the moonlight streaming through the barred window.Her eyes widened with triumphant delight.“My mother, and Silas our King, they will be thrilled,” she whispered, almost breathless. “I finally caught the real Blood Moon heir. The true Luna of prophecy.”Her words fell like stones in my chest.She stood taller, her pride swelling.“And you, you really fo

Ariana stepped forward like she was walking onto a stage she owned. Chin lifted. Shoulders squared. Triumph burning in her eyes.She looked at me the way a queen might look at a threat she finally cornered.The bane of her existence.The girl she believed stood between her and Elliot’s future.My stomach twisted, but I stood my ground.Elliot, however, looked genuinely stunned.“Ariana… what are you doing here?”She didn’t even look at him. Her gaze never left me.“I heard the fugitive was hiding in my pack,” she said calmly.“So I brought soldiers to arrest her.”My heart lurched, but I kept my expression blank.Ariana turned slightly and motioned to the man beside her.“What are you waiting for? Arrest her.”Then she lifted her hand toward Gina.“And her too.”Elliot’s jaw tightened. He didn’t intervene.Coward.Two soldiers grabbed my arms. Gina struggled beside me.I inhaled through my nose. “On what basis are you arresting us?”Ariana gave a soft, cruel laugh.“On what basis?" sh