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Blood Gift
Last Updated:
2025-06-30 22:42:49
Latest chapter
Alpha’s Dark Redemption Marked
Lucas's POVSelina stared at it, expression unreadable. For the first time all night, she was silent. I waited. I could feel the heart beating in my palm, even though I knew it was only adrenaline.“I don’t believe in marriage,” she said, finally.“I know,” I said.She looked up. Her eyes were black in the low light, as if they’d sucked all the color from the room. “So what’s this, then?”“A contract. A dare. A threat. Whatever you want to call it.”Her fingers hovered over the ring. “What if I say no?”“Then I’ll wear it. I’ll be the first CEO on Wall Street with an engagement ring. The press will love it.”She laughed. It wasn’t a sweet sound; it was an exhale of disbelief, edged with something sharper. “You are the most arrogant bastard I’ve ever met.”“That’s why you like me.”She plucked the ring from the box and slipped it on. It fit perfectly, of course. She studied it, the cold brilliance catching the candlelight and scattering it into vicious little darts. She raised her hand
Alpha’s Dark Redemption It's called obsession
Lucas's POVI always thought the word “exclusive” was just marketing bullshit, a gloss the desperate rich layered over their pitiful longing to be envied. But tonight, as I waited in the gold-lit hush of Eleven Madison Park—every table empty but the one at the window where I sat, every candle and wild floral arrangement burning in tribute to us alone—I began to appreciate the other meaning: a secret shared between predators.The maître d’—whose name I’d forgotten before he said it—hovered, trembling on the periphery, a servant in the kingdom of excess. I’d told him to treat my guest like royalty. He’d taken it literally: the staff had practiced for days to perfect Selina’s favorite dishes and even called in a sous chef from a vanished Parisian restaurant she’d once mentioned in passing, back when we were just adversaries at the trading desk and not yet this. The way she talked about food was a warning to the wise; if you missed a detail, you’d never be forgiven.The city outside was a
Alpha’s Dark Redemption Provoke the pack to safeguard what you claim you love
Jonathan's POV“Lucas Blackwood is not a man who bows for spectacle,” I said. “He bows for consequence. For permanence. For an argument you cannot fold away. He tolerates fools. He tolerates noise. He does not tolerate matters that threaten his pack’s heart.” I let that hang like a stone.Lydia’s smile thinned. “And that is—?”“His family,” I said. “His mate. His son. That is the hinge on which he swings. Take that—and you take more than his attention. You own a hole in his armor.”The admission made her blink. It was small—almost insignificantly human—but it was a fissure. The next breath she drew was sharper.“You mean to go after a child,” she whispered, which sounds horrid when you write it down, but it sounded anywhere from greedy to incredulous in her mouth. Her voice tried to pretend it wasn’t a dangerous wonder; she’d smelled the possibility and found herself, for an instant, calculating.“Yes,” I said. “Indirectly. Carefully. Not to harm for harm’s sake. To leverage. To unset
Alpha’s Dark Redemption You're too cheap
Jonathan’s POVSelina had closed a door on me with care, just like someone sealing a letter. No flourish, no accusation—just the quiet, absolute cut of someone who’d already decided. The impression she left was the way a room smells after a candle is snuffed: smoke and a little pity, and the light gone.People break in different ways. I have learned the art of breaking slowly, of letting a shiver trace a scar before you make the incision that finally matters. Tonight, I did not want slow. Tonight, I wanted something quick and sharp enough to taste. I wanted to remind the world—and myself—that I never lose unless I choose to.Lydia Sykes lived in a house built on pretense and the applause of men who loved the sound of their own names. Her pack lands were manicured, the lines between flowerbeds and driveways measured for cameras and gossip. She greeted the world with a flash of white teeth and painted eyes, the performance perfected until conviction bent under question.I found the door
Alpha’s Dark Redemption Can I mark you?
Lucas’s POVI’m tired of meetings that smell like stale coffee and recycled threats, tired of men polishing the same fears until they shine like excuses. I’m tired of the way the world treats love like a ledger entry — a column you can audit, an asset you redistribute when it suits the balance sheet. They speak as if my life, my choices, my mate, were data points at the council table. They whisper as if words have the power to change what the bond already knows.Grant walked me to the car without dramatics. He is the kind of beta who knows when to press the edges of a conversation and when to keep the silence broad and useful. Tonight the silence stretched, pulled taut by names people kept feeding each other like rumor meat.“There’s talk,” he said finally, practical as ever. “Jonathan Carr and the Sykes. People are saying they’re working together.”I let the engine warm. Headlights cut through the low clouds, painting the drive in a strip of pale truth. “Carr?” I said. The name sound
Alpha’s Dark Redemption Jonathan's fury part 2
Jonathan's POVThere are knives that come in sentences. That was one of them. I let it slide like air over ice. It’s useful to be capable of losing before you make the enemy believe they have the upper hand. I kept my smile narrow and patient.“You’ve fallen for someone else,” I said. Not a question. Just the fact that it's a scalpel.She said my name and then the other man’s, like it was a spell that would clear the air: “Lucas.”It landed like a physical weight. The letters collected in the space between us, cold and accusing. She said it with a sigh that was half apology, half defiance. She’d wanted to confess it to me with something like dignity; she had failed. The admission was small and enormous all at once: Lucas Blackwood had edged into the places I owned.I kept my hand steady. The polite smile folded a little, like a hinge bent under pressure.“Selina,” I said, exactly the way you say someone’s name before you promise them something or kill their illusions. “You know how da
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