Mag-log inThe Morning
Ruby stirred just as the first pale light of dawn slipped through the curtains. Her body was sore, her head heavy, but she became aware of warmth pressing against her, of strong hands roaming over her waist, her thigh, her chest. She blinked her eyes open in confusion, and there he was. The man from the night before. A man whose name she still doesn't know, his hand trailed along her side, his touch both tender and deliberate. She knew she should be alarmed, slap his hand away and demand her clothes, but her body had other ideas. Instead of pulling away, she found herself tilting her hips and leaning into his touch. "Morning sunshine," he said with a silly grin, but didn't stop what he was doing or even slow down, and Ruby consumed by a building desire could only answer with a soft moan. The night before had been a blur of reckless courage, a haze of alcohol, but now she was acutely aware of every touch, the sensation sharp and vivid. A dull ache between her thighs was a constant reminder of exactly what she'd been up to. She felt him shift, his body heavy and warm over hers. Before she could fully register what was happening, he was inside her, thrusting hard and deep. The initial shock of his entry gave way to a wave of pleasure. Instead of getting angry, she let herself get lost in the moment. With every thrust, she followed his rhythm, her own body responding with a forgotten language of want. He groaned low in his throat, her sudden response driving him harder. “That’s it,” he muttered, almost to himself, “just like that.” This time, there was no alcohol to numb the feeling, only the raw, undeniable sensation of his body against hers, and her own, surprisingly eager, reaction. The first time had been wild, messy, and unrestrained, Ruby had been drunk, she remembered giggling, kissing him until her head spun, then the sharp sting followed by the intoxicating wave of pleasure that had left her trembling in his arms. Ruby shut her eyes, her mind a tangle of questions she didn’t want to ask. All she knew was that it felt good. Too good. Every thrust sent sparks dancing through her nerves, every touch of his lips to her neck made her toes curl. She wasn’t drunk now, there was no liquid courage fogging her judgment, this was her, awake, fully aware and choosing not to stop him. When she finally cried out, the sound echoed in the vast penthouse room, a raw and uninhibited release. Ethan followed moments later, collapsing over her, his breath ragged, his lips brushing that same spot on her neck that had already been marred the night before. Ruby lay still beneath him, her heart racing. “That was so fucking good,” Ethan groaned, stretching before rolling onto his back. For once, he didn’t immediately crave more, and that in itself was strange. Her body had satisfied him in ways others hadn’t. Ruby only smiled and nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. Inside, her thoughts were running wild. What did I just do? A part of her was proud, smug even. She’d finally done it. She wasn’t Whitney’s naive little friend anymore. She had crossed the line, and slept with a stranger, not just once but twice. And now reality was beginning to creep in. “Do you have plans today?” Ethan asked casually as he got up, stretching his long, muscled frame, heading toward the bathroom like this was the most ordinary morning after in the world. Ruby froze. “Yes, unfortunately I am swamped,” she replied quickly, already tasting the lie on her tongue. She could never tell him she had nothing to do. She wanted to run and hide where no one would see what she had done. Ethan gave a small, almost disappointed smirk. “What a shame,” he murmured, before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silence. That was her moment. Ruby’s heart raced as she scanned the room. Her dress was on the floor, her heels kicked off carelessly near the door. She scrambled quietly, pulling her clothes back on with shaky hands. She didn’t even bother checking her hair or the mark on her neck, too consumed by the urgency to flee. By the time Ethan was washing the steam from his body, his little lady had slipped out. The door clicked shut behind her, unnoticed over the hiss of the shower. Ruby walked quickly through the hotel lobby, her face flushed crimson. Every pair of eyes that landed on her made her skin crawl. They can see it, they know. She tugged her dress lower, adjusted her hair forward to hide her face. Guilt, shame, exhilaration was all written across her features like an open book. The fresh morning air hit her hard as she finally stepped outside. She drew in a shaky breath, hugging herself. She quickly waved a taxi and broke into a smile when she settled in, Whitney would be super proud of her. *** Ethan stepped out of the bathroom, running a towel through his damp hair. “You’re awfully quiet,” he called out, his voice carrying through the suite. “Don’t tell me you fell back asleep—” He frowned, dropping the towel around his neck. The bed was empty. Sheets still rumpled, but the little lady was gone. No dress, no shoes, only a faint perfume trail was left behind. She had vanished. Ethan smirked, shaking his head. “Well, well. The first to ever run off after a night with me.” He was almost offended. Usually, women clung to him, demanding for more, status, money, another round. But this one had slipped away without a word. He felt amused. Then his gaze caught something on the sheet. A faint stain near where she’d lain. Red. Ethan’s amusement evaporated. He stepped closer, staring down at it, his chest tightening as realization dawned. He let out a long, shaky breath. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. Her first time… and he— Before he could finish the thought, a voice rang in his head through the pack link. ‘Alpha, are you busy?’ Liam’s mocking drawl oozed through the connection. Ethan clenched his jaw. ‘What is it?’ ‘We found Joshua. But if you’re busy…’ Jason’s snicker echoed faintly in the background. Ethan growled low. ‘Shut it. I’m on my way.’ He grabbed a fresh set of clothes, pulling them on with sharp movements. The red patch still lingered at the edge of his vision. For the first time in a long while, Ethan felt something unsettled coil in his chest. When he left the hotel behind, sliding into the back of his sleek black car where Jason and Liam were already waiting. His mind still wandered briefly to the girl, and the red patch she left behind but he pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time. “Where is he?” Ethan asked, his tone sharp. Jason leaned back lazily. “Old mill, just outside the northern border. Word is, he’s been meeting with rogues and mercenaries.” Liam added, more serious, “He’s stirring up trouble again, Alpha. Same pattern as before—hits on patrols, supply thefts, harassment of the humans around here. He wants you to notice him.” Ethan’s jaw tightened. Joshua. The man was more parasite than wolf feeding on chaos, manipulating rogues, pushing crime through the territories like a poison. He had been a thorn in Ethan’s side for far too long. “Then he has my attention,” Ethan muttered. He cracked his knuckles, already imagining the confrontation. If Joshua had a reason, one Ethan could accept, then maybe they’d talk. But if not? If he was just being a selfish bastard risking innocent lives for greed and power? Ethan smirked coldly. “Then I’ll end him. Problem solved.” The car rolled through the hot afternoon sun, and as they neared the decrepit mill, Jason glanced at his Alpha, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “You think he’ll fight or beg?” “Doesn’t matter,” Ethan said simply. “Either way, everything ends today with me standing.”The pack house council room reeked of stale woodsmoke, withered herbs, and the faint metallic tang of worry. A single lantern burned low at the center of the scarred oak table, its flicker stretching shadows across maps of hunting grounds long stripped bare and ration ledgers that shrank by the week. Food had become a rumor, deer herds thinned by overhunting and rival incursions, gardens stunted by early frost, stores raided during the last skirmish. Each challenge for dominance bled them further: injured warriors, lost patrols, hunters pulled from the field to guard the den. Manpower dwindled. Exhaustion carved itself into every face. Still, the inner circle held.Jason stood at the head of the table, shoulders rigid, eyes dark with strain. Mary, his chosen mate, sat close, her hand resting on his arm, a quiet anchor keeping his wolf from snapping beneath the pressure. Across the room, their eight-year-old daughter, Anabelle, sat cross-legged on a bench, carefully braiding a strip o
Nearly six years had passed since Ethan Blackwood fell, since his blood had soaked into the sacred earth beneath a swollen blood moon, and his daughter had vanished into the night in Silas’s grasp. The Blood Moon Pack still wore their grief like a second skin: heavy, unyielding, etched into every howl that rose at dusk.The night the Blood Moon fell, the earth didn't just drink blood; it drowned in it.The casualties were catastrophic. Remarkable wolves, warriors who had breathed only for Ethan’s command and elders who carried the oral history of a thousand years, were cut down like wheat. Among the fallen was Liam, the Gamma. He was the pack’s Unbreakable Shield, a master of brutal, close-quarters combat who fought with a cold, terrifying efficiency. In the final breach, he became a storm incarnate, a wall of white fur and silver claws. But Silas’s hybrids were an endless tide of grotesque flesh. They swarmed him, ten to one, their fangs sinking into his flanks and tearing through s
Silas laughed, a soft, delighted sound.“Oh, pup,” he murmured. “Then you already know how this ends.”He struck first, but Ethan met him head-on. The moment the barrier fractured, Shadow tore free.Ethan surged to his feet with a snarl that shook the rafters, his body blurring as claws ripped free and power rolled off him in crushing waves. The Great Hall exploded into motion, wolves shouting, elders scrambling back as Ethan slammed into Silas with the full force of an Alpha who had never once bowed.The iron staff shattered under the blow.Silas reeled, one-legged stance faltering, fury twisting his features. “You think losing my leg made me weak?” he hissed. Ethan answered with bloodThey crashed to the stone, rolling in a frenzy. Ethan pinned Silas, paws crushing ribs that cracked like thunder. Silas countered, fangs sinking into Ethan’s neck, injecting venom that spread like liquid night, weakening his grip. Ethan shook him off, slashing at Silas’s face, claws gouging violet eyes
Several days had passed since Joshua’s vampires delivered their warning, and the Blood Moon pack had transformed overnight into a fortress of vigilance.The sprawling estate on the edge of human territory, once a symbol of Ethan’s quiet integration with the outside world, was abandoned. He’d ordered it sealed, windows boarded, gates chained, the long drive patrolled by rotating teams of enforcers who never shifted out of wolf form. No one entered or left without triple-checked clearance. The pack house, deep in the heart of their ancestral lands, became home again: stone walls thick with wards, every corridor lit by iron sconces that burned day and night, the air heavy with the scent of pine resin and gun oil.Aurora attended the pack school now, her days filled with lessons from elders who taught her not just reading and arithmetic but the basics of shielding her mind and recognizing the first whisper of dark magic. No more human classrooms, no more playgrounds where strangers could
As Aurora grew, eight, nine, then ten, Ethan approached her emerging gift with the same reverence he had once used to teach her how to braid her own hair. He never treated her intuition like a weapon to be sharpened for war. Instead, he treated it like a delicate instrument, testing it gently and always with her consent.At first, the tests were harmless. He’d ask her which route they should take home, then quietly choose the opposite just to see. Without fail, they’d encounter a sudden road closure, a fallen tree, or a delay that proved her instinct right. Later, he’d have a trusted pack member tell a harmless white lie about the night’s dinner menu. Aurora would immediately wrinkle her nose in distaste."He's saying pasta, Daddy, but the air feels... metallic. It's wrong."Ethan would nod, confirming the truth, and press a kiss to her forehead. "Good catch, Moonbean. That’s a very useful thing to know."Slowly, the stakes shifted. He began bringing her into the study for pack ma
The days after Natasha’s banishment felt like the first true sunrise after a long, suffocating night. With the iridescent scent of the Siren's Pull scrubbed from the halls and the woman herself stripped of her borrowed authority, the pack house finally began to breathe again.Ethan moved them temporarily back to the heart of the pack territory, away from the offices and the corporate shadow of Voss Dynamics. He woke before dawn each morning now, but the urgency had shifted. He was no longer buried under mountain-high council reports or jagged patrol schedules. Instead, he found himself in the kitchen, reclaiming the simple, sacred roles he had nearly let slip away.He made breakfast with a focused, quiet devotion. He learned the rhythm of her morning again: scrambled eggs with extra cheese and absolutely no "green bits," and toast cut into meticulous triangles because Aurora had once declared that squares were "too boring for a Wednesday." He even drove twenty minutes to the human m
Ethan didn’t even slow down as he strode through the hallway, scenting the familiar mixture of packmates, anxious, excited, relieved, and overwhelmingly curious. Half the pack was clustered outside the infirmary wing, spilling into the corridor, craning necks and rising onto their toes as soon as t
While the alphas gathered in the grand hall to discuss strategies against Silas, the Lunas held their own parallel council in one of the sunlit reception chambers. Ruby had expected nerves, expected to feel like an outsider among women who had been born into this world, raised for it, shaped by cen
RUBYShadow kissed me tenderly, his lips patient, and coaxing, drawing me closer without forcing a single thing. It was achingly slow, and yet I felt the ground tilt beneath my feet as if the world itself leaned toward him.When he finally pulled back, I was breathless, I curled my fingers into hi
Whitney's fear and desperation had curdled into a reckless, singular obsession: proving Ethan Blackwood was a criminal and finding Ruby. The frustration of being censored had driven her to a dangerous edge.She stopped relying on traditional journalism. Instead, she decided on a bold, foolish esca







