LOGINShare
When The Fiery Wolf Speaks
Last Updated:
2026-02-07 23:42:53
Latest chapter
A Kiss For Every Bruise When The Fiery Wolf Speaks
Alejandro/ Inferno The Haven of Shadows was never meant to impress anyone. It was not carved from marble or crowned with banners like the courts of kings. No towering walls. No ceremonial guards.Just stone. Old, breathing stone that had seen too much blood to pretend it was holy. Twenty–nine souls lived within it. Only, twenty–nine. Not an army or a kingdom. More like a blade.Every member was chosen because they were necessary, not because they were loyal, not because they were strong, but because they were irreplaceable.Tonight, all twenty–nine were present. No one spoke. They had felt it before I entered. The shift in the air, the pressure and the way shadows leaned instead of standing.Koa stood to my right, silent as ever, his hand resting near the hilt at his waist, not in threat, but in instinct. Across the chamber sat the Five Ancients. Valerius Drakos. Cassian Drakos. Ragnar Frostbane, Seraphine LaRoux and Eldric Moreu. And beside them, Eamon sat still and watching. Always
A Kiss For Every Bruise Clarity
GwenThe thing about cages is that you don’t notice the bars until you start testing them. Once you do, you feel them everywhere.I woke before dawn with my heart racing, not from a nightmare, those had grown dull with repetition, but from clarity. The kind that arrived quietly and refused to leave. My body lay still beneath the sheets, but my mind was already moving, retracing conversations, glances, silences that had once felt benign and now revealed their teeth. Camilla believed I was manageable. That belief was her advantage. And, if I was careful, her undoing.I dressed slowly, choosing clothes that signaled compliance rather than challenge. Soft fabric. Neutral colors. The version of Gwen the Cruise family had grown accustomed to; recovering, grateful, subdued. It cost me something to put that costume back on, but rage, I was learning, did not require spectacle to be lethal. It required patience.Downstairs, the house breathed its familiar rhythm. Staff murmured. Doors opened a
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Sound Of Silence
GwenSilence used to terrify me. Not the peaceful kind, the heavy kind. The kind that pressed in on my ears until my own thoughts sounded dangerous. The kind Mason used as punishment. The kind Camilla weaponized, dressing it up as “rest” and “reflection” while my mind was being slowly unstitched. But this silence was different. This silence was chosen.I sat by the window in my room long after midnight, the villa asleep around me, the Mediterranean stretching black and endless beyond the glass. Somewhere across that water, Kayla was dreaming. I wondered what filled her sleep now, classrooms and crayons, laughter that didn’t flinch, stories she was learning how to finish out loud. I wondered when I had stopped believing I deserved the same.My phone rested in my palm, warm from repeated use. I had replayed the video Adrian sent earlier so many times that I could recite it from memory. Kayla walking through the school gates without hesitation, her small fingers curled around her backpac
A Kiss For Every Bruise Fault Lines
Gwen The realization did not arrive all at once. It came in fragments. Like hairline fractures spreading beneath a surface everyone else believed was solid. I noticed it first in my body. The way my shoulders no longer curled inward when Camilla entered a room. The way my breathing stayed even when her voice slid into that soft, coaxing register meant to soothe and dominate at the same time. The way my hands no longer trembled when her gaze lingered on me a second too long. Fear, I was learning, had lived in my muscles longer than it had lived in my thoughts. And it was loosening its grip. Camilla did not come to the villa that day, but her presence lingered anyway, spoken into conversations, folded into plans, treated as inevitable as weather. My family moved around her absence like people rearranging furniture to accommodate someone who was not even there. “She suggested the foundation expand into Southeast Asia,” my father said over breakfast. “Very forward-thinking.” “She alw
A Kiss For Every Bruise Silent Rage
GwenI learned, slowly, that silence frightened people more than rage ever could. The Cruise villa had always been loud. Voices overlapping, footsteps echoing, glass clinking against marble like punctuation marks in conversations that never truly ended. Even after my return, after the months where everyone spoke around me instead of to me, the noise had remained a constant. A shield, perhaps. Or a way to avoid listening. One morning, I broke the rhythm.I joined breakfast late, not dramatically, not apologetically. I wore a simple dress, pale blue, my hair loosely tied back. Nothing sharp. Nothing defiant. I took my seat, poured myself tea, and said nothing.My mother glanced at me twice. “Did you sleep well?” she asked eventually, her voice was careful in the way people sound when they are afraid of breaking something already cracked. “I slept,” I replied. Not a lie. Not the truth either.She nodded, relieved, and turned back to her plate. Conversation resumed around me, business, s
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Mask
GwenCamilla DiCarpo arrived at the Cruise villa just before lunch, precisely on schedule. She always did. There was something obscene about that punctuality. As though terror, when delivered politely and on time, could pass for kindness. I watched from the upstairs landing as her car curved into the circular driveway below, glossy black and unhurried, like a predator certain it would not be challenged. My mother hurried to the door before the bell even rang. That, too, was new.Six years ago, my mother had never rushed for anyone. Not business partners. Not politicians. Certainly not Camilla DiCapo. Now she smiled too quickly, smoothed her blouse with nervous affection, and called Camilla’s name the way one might greet a savior.I stayed where I was. From above, I could see everything. The angle gave me distance, and distance, I was learning, was survival.Camilla stepped inside with practiced warmth, her presence filling the space without effort. She wore cream today. Soft lines. N
You may also like
My Wife is a Hacker
Summer1.8M viewsBogus Billionaire
Shining Riviera786.8K viewsEx-Husband's Regret
Evelyn M.M4.6M viewsShe Accepted Divorce, He Panicked
Nyx Rai619.1K viewsThe abandoned wife and her secret son
Paulinah 541 viewsThe CEO's Secret Wife, The Ex-Fiance's Worst Nightmare
NihayatuZain185 viewsHIS REVENGE, HER REDEMPTION
Ubee188 viewsMY HUSBAND SOLD ME TO HIS BOSS.
I_nightshade193 views
