BLOOD MOON:Wolf Pack Trilogy

BLOOD MOON:Wolf Pack Trilogy

last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2025-05-12
Oleh:  Ella greyBaru saja diperbarui
Bahasa: English
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Sinopsis

"Why did you put me through that?" I asked, taking a moment to delve into his intense gaze. "Do you really despise me that much?" Dimitri hissed, his voice sharp like a knife. "Isabelle, be careful with what you say." "Why should I even try?" I shot back, matching his intensity. "That’s enough!" Dimitri growled, his voice low and menacing. Before I could respond, he roared, halting my words in their tracks. He seized my arms, pushing me against the wall. My heart raced, and the fire in his gaze intensified. This is unbearable! There’s no escaping destiny anymore. His lips crashed onto mine, stealing my breath and breaking through all my defenses. --- Isabella Rosa Santacruz is a witch on the run, her blood linked to a prophecy that positions her as the key to the universe. Throughout her life, she has evaded monsters and myths, always staying a step ahead—until now. Dimitri Axel Castellan, known as the Blood Alpha, is feared, ruthless, and weighed down by a cursed pack fated to perish on the eleventh blood moon. However, when he encounters Isabella—the one person he never expected—everything shifts. She becomes the air he can’t breathe without, even if loving her means sacrificing everything, including his own life. Will their connection protect them from the impending chaos, or will it pull them apart?

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Bab 1

Chapter 1

I

Chapter 1

GOT THE DRINKS!!!”

Tonight at the club, I heard Iris scream loudly as she tried

to drown out the deafening noise of the music that was

determined to burst my eardrum.

I took one of the red plastic cups from her hands and tried my

best to yell out at her, “About time! Why did you take so long!”

The blended cocktails in the cups were ones I would rather not

know the components of.

This was my first night at Tropical Thunder, Bournville’s largest

and busiest nightclub. Basically, everyone from our college

attended, even a group of adolescent hormone-happy high

school students who brought phony identification to show their

peers how horrible they really were. What utter fools they were,

squandering their time attempting to validate their value to

others who didn’t give a damn. I thought it was silly to try to live

up to other people’s expectations; why not just be yourself? But

anyhow, enough of my viewpoint, Iris started.

Iris laughed and bobbed her head back and forth, following the

beat of the music playing. “I met a guy,” she exclaimed.

A man, she mentioned? This was just how Iris was. She changed

males like clockwork every single week, but there was nothing I

could do about it. She was the only friend I had and the finest

one I had.

Do not misunderstand me. I’m not one of those pitiful, bashful

females who can never seem to find friends or know how to have

fun. This was not the case, though. I believe that I’m a very

enjoyable person to hang out with, and I’m sure that anyone

would want to be friends with me. However, the real reason I

didn’t have any friends was that nobody, save Iris, could truly

stay around to comprehend my already dysfunctional existence.

She remained consistent no matter what. To me, she was more

than just a friend; we shared an unbreakable sisterly tie. She was

my only remaining family member and very dear to me.

It was there that Iris and I nearly grew up together—that is, until

Iris was adopted by a wealthy and loving human family and I was

adopted by a repulsive abuser and drunkard. Well, that’s just my

usual luck, though. It was awful, extremely awful if I may say so.

Similar to the kind of bad luck where lightning strikes the same

spot twice.

We both began to dance to the music playing in the background,

and I inquired, “Who is the new guy that got you smiling like

this?” Pizzaboys was it; their music was the greatest.

She turned around and asked, “Remember Landon Brettman?

From literature class?” as we rocked our bodies together and I

ran my hands over her body.

However, isn’t she supposed to be fucking kidding me?

Do I still recall Landon Brettman? It is impossible to forget

someone as obnoxious and terrible as Landon Brettman, or as I

generally refer to him, as Landon jerk man. Of course, I

remember Landon Brettman.

In addition to being a showoff, brat, proud, irritating, awful,

overconfident, and a host of other adjectives that could be used

to describe him indefinitely, Landon was also a big man whore

and spoilt.

And regrettably, I was unfortunate enough to be paired with a

high-literature course out of all the several that I had applied for.

If I’m being very honest, Landon looked more like one of those

clichéd jocks from the 1990s. A guy like Landon was, to put it

plainly, a complete waste to humanity. Data!

I laughed and expressed my disdain at the idea of her and

Landon dating. “Ew. I bet he wouldn’t even last a day with you.

It’s either you dump his sorry ass or he cheats again.” I sincerely

hoped that this wouldn’t last forever.

“Maybe? Honestly, I think so too, but I’m going to be the one

dumping him first.” We both giggled “But you know that they all

just serve as a fun distraction for me until I find my one true

mate,” Iris remarked with a smile. The idea of meeting her

partner, who the Moon goddess had predestined for her, thrilled

her much.

Yes, your guess was correct! I’m a witch, and Iris is a werewolf.

And sure, it’s true that all those things older kids told you around

ridiculous campfires or in the dark to scare the living daylights

out of you are true. There is magic. It was also very much true

that there were monsters, creatures, and things you would never

think were possible; in fact, they all wanted me dead.

I’m not sure what sin I must have done in a previous life, but

everyone and everything on this already dysfunctional world wanted me dead.

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