LOGINBLURB "You drive me insane, Carla!" He growled, hoisting me on the desk. His lips brushed my jaw and my breath quickened when he slipped his fingers underneath my red dress. "Fuck, you are not wearing panties," He groaned, gripping my thighs possessively. I was filled with an unnerving amount of neediness and I had my fingers working on his belt in no time. "God, just fuck me already." I moaned, peering at him beneath my lashes. He muttered profanities under his breath, lifted me a little, and plunged into me swiftly. "Fuck!" I moaned, wrapping my legs around him to get more of what he was offering as he pounded into me, burying his head into my neck. "Mine!" He growled into my neck. ༆ Carla Jason and Dawson Walcott were the definitions of opposite attracts. Where Carla was naive—prim, innocent, and not ladylike, Dawson was the typical ruthless fuck-boy, who chased after anything in a skirt, especially the sexy ones. All his life, he had always hoped to meet his mate at his coronation ceremony of being the next Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, which was coming up in a few days but fate had other plans in store. Carla had walked in on him fucking another omega and she wasn't just a random omega to him. She was the omega he had always been in love with. Worse, she turned out to be his mate. Dawson knew how difficult it would be to make her his, given his history and what she had found out about him on the day he realized she was his mate. The complications weren't about to stop Dawson from claiming what was his before her twentieth birthday but was Carla going to allow herself to be vulnerable with a playboy?
View MoreDAWSONThe study was quiet except for the faint rustle of pages as I turned them. My father sat across from me, his presence commanding as always, but tonight, his gaze was shadowed by memories of a past that I was just beginning to uncover. The book between us held the names of rogues and the symbols that marked their clans or affiliations—a dark history preserved for moments like this.The air was heavy with unspoken tension, the weight of the pack’s legacy pressing down on us both. My father, the former Alpha, had faced countless battles to keep the pack safe, and now, I was walking in his footsteps, trying to make sense of the chaos left behind by those who once threatened us.His fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair as he watched me pour over the pages, his silence speaking volumes. Each name, each symbol, felt like a thread in a tapestry of blood and betrayal. These weren’t just words or marks on a page; they were lives—rogues who had once terrorized packs, brought d
DAWSONThe common room felt like a war zone, cluttered with maps, blueprints, files, and failed strategies. I sat at the head of the table, staring at the chaos before me, while Rick leaned over one of the map.“This trail went cold two nights ago,” he said, pointing to an abandoned factory near the southern border. “The rain didn’t help. It’s like the rogue vanished into thin air.”I clenched my fists, barely holding back my frustration. “What about the trackers? Did they find anything unusual in the area?”Rick Taylor shook his head. “Nothing. Whoever this rogue is, he’s careful. No scent, no sightings. Just the attack on Carla and then... nothing. Like he wanted to make a statement and disappear.”I slammed my fist against the table, the sound reverberating through the room. “A statement? What statement? Why Carla? Why now? None of this makes sense!”Rick Taylor straightened, his expression calm, though I could see the concern in his eyes. “Dawson, you’ve been pushing yourself non
CARLA The midday sun poured through my bedroom window, casting golden streaks across the hardwood floor. The warm light did little to thaw the chill that lingered in my chest. Since the attack, the pack house had felt more like a gilded cage than a home. Dawson’s orders were clear: I wasn’t to leave until the rogue threat was neutralized.It was protective, I knew that, but it was suffocating too.There was a soft knock at my door before it creaked open. Dawson stepped inside, his tall frame filling the space effortlessly. His hair was slightly dishevelled, and the tension around his eyes told me he hadn’t been sleeping well.“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice steady but lacking the warmth I desperately craved.“I’m fine,” I replied, tucking my knees under my chin as I sat on the bed. “Better, really.”He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Good. But you can’t leave the pack house, Carla. It’s not safe out there. Not yet.”I let out a soft sigh. “Dawson, I can’t stay
SMITHThe sun was at its peak, its rays warming the earth and casting long, golden shadows across the pack compound. Carla and I walked side by side, the sound of our boots crunching against gravel mixing with the sound of activity from the training yard. Ever since the news of a rogue attacking Carla got out, the training session had intensified, but this was beside the point. Today was about Carla. I had spent days planning this picnic, hoping to give her a moment of peace after everything she’d endured.She was walking steadily, her face glowing with the ease that had been absent for weeks. After the rogue attack, seeing her like this—strong, radiant, and herself—was all I needed to make this day worth it.The yard ahead buzzed with life. Wolves were sparring, their grunts and laughter blending with the sharp impact of fists meeting pads. Carla’s attention drifted toward the scene, her pace slowing slightly. I didn’t miss the way her eyes scanned the sparring pairs, lingering longe
DAWSON The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, but it did little to ease the cold, heavy knot of dread settling deep in my gut. I stared at my father, his face pale, eyes wide with disbelief and terror. The words he had just spoken to me rang in my ears like a hammer striking met
SMITHThe heavy scent of pine and damp earth clung to me ashoved sted my tie yet again. My fathr’s insistence that w,e visit the pack felt less like a request and more like a command. He framed it as a gesture of goodwill, a chance to offer condolences to strengthen alliances. But for me, this visi
DAWSONThe clock on my dashboard blinked 7:45 p.m., mocking me with every passing minute. Carla was waiting, and I was already fifteen minutes late. p.m. knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as I sped through the winding streets toward the park. Every second felt like a small betrayal. She hate
Dawson“Dawson!” Mother barged into my room, right before I could even sit. “Son, what's going on with you?”“Mother, can you please leave me alone?” I assessed her with an angry gaze. “Go back to your dinner with your insufferable mate. Just let me be.”Her fists clenched and her nails dug into he
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