Mag-log inHey loves, First off, I want to say a huge thank you for all the love and support y’all have shown to this series, it honestly means the world to me, and I don’t take it for granted. 💖 I also want to apologize for the late update. I’ve been completely buried preparing for my exams, which has kept me from writing. I’ll be finishing my exams on the 20th next month, so the next update will be coming after that (or 5th or 6th next month… maybe). Thank you for being patient with me, and for sticking around. Your support keeps me going, and I can’t wait to share what’s next with you all. Much love! ❤️
TATEI DIDN’T MOVE. Couldn’t.Because if I did—even a breath the wrong way—I’d lose the nerve holding me here. And I wasn’t walking away from him. Not tonight. Not after everything that led us to this terrifying, magnetic fucking moment.Enzo was still warm from the shift, heat rolling off him in slow waves that kept brushing my skin and stealing whatever thoughts I tried to form. His eyes were dark, fixed on me like he could feel every thud in my chest before I even felt it. And I hated how true that probably was.My fingers twitched. My whole body ached to touch him, and my brain kept lagging behind, useless, slow, a few steps behind the wanting.“You’ve been staring,” he said, voice low enough to drag straight down my spine. The corner of his mouth liftedand it punched a knot into my stomach.A broken laugh slipped out of me. “I… was—”The words hit my tongue and then dissolved, because how do you explain this? This pressure in my chest like something was trying to claw its way out
PRESENTTATEI WAS SHAKING so hard my teeth almost clicked, and adjusting my glasses didn’t help even though I kept doing it like pushing them up the bridge of my nose would somehow steady me. My breath stayed uneven. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. My heart punched like it was trying to break out of my chest.Not because I was scared of him.Because I was scared for him.Enzo wasn’t here with me. Not really. His body was, but his eyes were somewhere else—somewhere darker, somewhere soaked in blood and memory. His chest stayed tight like breathing hurt, and the way he stared past me, jaw locked around whatever he couldn’t say—it gutted me.What the hell do you say to a man who killed the person fate tied him to?What the fuck do you say when you’re watching him drown in it all over again?I couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. So I did the first thing my stupid, terrified, reckless heart reached for.I grabbed his face in both hands and crashed my mouth against his. Hard.He stumbl
ENZOI DIDN’T REMEMBER the first day. Or the second.Everything after Tristan’s body lay on the floor blurred into one suffocating nightmare. I didn’t remember them dragging me away, but I remembered waking and running back, how they pried me off him—four guards, maybe five—and how I fought until my claws cracked and my throat tore raw from screaming his name. I only stopped when I tasted my own blood, when I realized I was trying to rip open my own skin just to feel something other than the bond dead in my chest.They threw me in a storage room. Concrete floor. No windows. The fading scent of my mate still clung to my hands. In my jacket pocket, the small camera Tristan had used to take our pictures that night pressed against my ribs. I knew it was there, but I couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t touch it.A week. Maybe more. Time didn’t exist without him.I didn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him clawing at himself, begging me to stop him, begging me not to let Marcus use h
ENZOMY PALMS WERE slick with sweat as I gripped Tristan’s hand, leading him through the back door of the mansion. It was still dark outside—three, maybe four in the morning—and the air was sharp with that kind of silence that made every sound feel louder. We had to move fast, before Marcus came home.“We could plan—”“No.” I cut him off, my hand tightening around his. “We do it now.”Tristan didn’t argue, but I felt the tension rolling off him. We both knew there wouldn’t be another chance. If Marcus found out we were leaving—if he found out why—it would be over.The floor creaked softly beneath us as we slipped deeper into the hallway, our hearts hammering like a countdown.Then—Footsteps. A voice.My mother’s. Followed by Eli’s soft, sleepy murmur.“Shit,” I breathed, and yanked Tristan toward the storage closet. We slipped inside, the door giving a small, traitorous groan before the darkness swallowed us whole.My back hit the wood. Tristan’s chest pressed to mine, his breath hot
13 Years Ago (1 Year Later)ENZOTHE FIRST HIT landed before I even realized it was coming, a sharp crack that split my lip and left the taste of iron on my tongue. My chest tightened, muscles coiling to hold back the tremor that wanted to shake me into pieces.“Say that again,” Marcus growled, drunk and venomous, each syllable vibrating through the room like a hammer. “Go on, boy—say it.”I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, letting the sting mix with the dull ache in my ribs. I looked up, straight at him. “I said you’re a coward.”The room went silent, except for the slow tick of the clock. I could feel every second scraping against me.His eyes narrowed at me like he did not expect me to say it again. “Watch your mouth, Adrian.”I let a humorless laugh escape, the sound hollow, brittle. “Why? You’re gonna hit me again? Go on. You already do that better than you father me.”Before I could brace myself, his hand grabbed my collar, slamming me into the wall. Pain







