Matt tried to live a distant and quiet life. He avoided the world, the world he couldn't accept. He tried to make the world his own, and buried his true self in oblivion. He forced himself, in his own way, to be unlike the people he hated. He hated his true self. Matt managed to do this for twenty-seven years. But his true self continued to grow stronger, disrupting his life, forcing him to return and hide with his own kind. Mark didn't expect an event to end his dreams and his self-confidence. Until one night, he met a woman with a strange scent, a scent only found in his destined mate. Matt's attempts to avoid the captivating allure of that woman's scent were in vain. Matt couldn't stop his heart from beating again. Gradually, Matt fell in love with the woman. Because of this, Matt was forced to reveal himself, the woman accepted who he really was and live a normal life with the woman. This became a threat to those like Matt. The secret of his true self was revealed. The truth is that every time Matt falls in love, he must kill the woman he loves. This time, for the second time, Matt refused to lose the woman he loved to his own hands. So, Matthew took the woman and hid again with his kind. But in this meeting, Matt learns that the woman is not destined to be his mate, but the last descendant of a clan, a fierce rival of his kind. And according to the book of wisdom, the previous woman destined to be the most powerful, the one who will destroy all kinds including Matt."
view more"Matt! No! Please, Matt, don't! This isn't you... this isn't who you are!" Her voice, raw with terror, cracked on the last words, which echoed loudly through the forest. She remembered the Matt she knew: the man who held her hand gently, who laughed softly at her jokes, whose eyes held nothing but warmth and affection. This creature before her, eyes blazing with a hellish light, fangs bared in a snarl, was a grotesque parody of that man. The transformation was complete, a horrifying metamorphosis from the man she loved to a savage beast. Ella slowly walks toward Matt. Everyone around is alert. Everyone is in position. One wrong step from her and one wrong move from Matt, all their hard work will vanish like smoke in the air.
"She knew her words were pointless, but she was losing her mind. She felt sorry for Matt's fate, pitying him. She regretted their possible beautiful and happy future. Because of her, Matt was turning into a monster just to protect her. If only she could turn back time. If only they hadn't met at the bar that night."
"You are welcome, I'm glad my friend Toffee took care of you, and I can see that now. Matt answered with a smile. He finds her more attractive just by stuttering. "Oh geez, please give me more strength," Matt whispered as he met her gaze. He's doing thousands of things to control himself, not to be tempted to follow his boiling libido, especially since the woman is becoming sexier with her appearance now. "Ahh, Miss, you can speak your native language, I can understand a little, but I can't say it well." Matt said. His eyes are full of burning passion, staring at the woman's innocent face. "So, it was you, it's you? It is really you, oh, yeah it's you...." Ella said with a wide smile. She couldn't hide the happiness she felt now that she had found her knight and shining armor, or rather, her Superman, because he had saved her twice. She was so happy that she not only found him but also got to know him, and now she w
Oh sh*t, Matt cursed as the young woman rested in his arms. He couldn't blame her. He saw the fear and utter confusion of the woman. Her trauma wasn't a joke, and anyone would faint from fear.The young woman almost got r@ped if he hadn't intervened. The woman was probably in shock. Matt didn't hesitate for even a second. He lifted her up and whistled.His allies were just around, standing by for any possible danger that might come. That was his life, always alert, always alert, always in fear. But what Matt hated most was when others got involved.Suddenly, a red car arrived. Then a man quickly got out and was about to assist Matt, but Matt stopped him."No body should touch her," Matt said and carried the woman to the back seat."I'll take her home. Let's meet at her house. Take care of my mess."Matt said. Which meant the men he fought. He didn't really finish them off; they just lost consciousness. Although one was wounded, Matt tried not to hit a vital organ. As much as possible,
Even after the danger she had been through, her imagination still ran wild. But still, she felt safe in his arms, that was what mattered."You're crazy, Ella. You're still flirting even after what just happened," she said to herself. "Let me remind you, Miss Ella Marie Lucas, that you almost got raped. And you're flirting like you want your Superman to rape you. You're crazy," her mind chided. "Well, can you blame me?" Ella said to herself. Ella felt the man lay her on a soft bed and cover her with a blanket. Then he sat beside her and sighed deeply, several times in a row."I know you're awake, Miss. You can open your eyes, you're safe now." Matt teased his woman and stared at her intensely. He knew she was awake, he had known it since he picked her up. When Ella heard him say that, she felt embarrassed. So he knew she was just pretending to be asleep."Ugh, so embarrassing," she thought, not wanting to open her eyes. She was too embarrassed to face him. "It's fine, I know you're
The alley reeked of stale beer and something far worse—a cloying sweetness that clung to the air like a shroud. Matt, hidden in the shadows, watched the woman. Her terror wasn't just visible; it pulsed, a frantic rhythm against the suffocating darkness. He saw the stark white of her eyes, wide and desperate in the gloom, felt the frantic hammering of her heart as a physical vibration in the air. His own senses screamed—the acrid bite of alcohol warred with a sickeningly familiar chemical scent, a predator's perfume promising violation. A primal rage, hot and brutal, clawed at his control. He moved like a wraith, circling the battered car, his muscles coiled springs of lethal potential. The sight of her exposed skin, her vulnerability laid bare in the harsh light of the approaching motorcycle, ignited a furious inferno within him. He slammed his fist into the car hood, the metallic clang a tiny explosion in the oppressive silence. "Damn it," he snarled, the word a guttural rasp.
The alley was a tomb of shadows, and Ella was a small, fragile thing trapped within it. The air hung heavy with the stench of stale beer and something far worse – a sickeningly sweet chemical scent that promised oblivion. Fear, raw and visceral, clawed at her throat, stealing her breath, constricting her chest until each gasp felt like a monumental effort. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the suffocating darkness. Her eyes, wide and desperate, darted around, searching for an escape, a glimmer of hope in the oppressive gloom, but finding only the cold, unyielding brick walls closing in. The hands around her mouth were like iron bands, crushing the air from her lungs, stealing the ability to scream, to plead, to fight back. Each strained breath was a desperate battle against suffocation, a silent scream trapped within her constricted chest. Her body trembled uncontrollably, not just from the cold, but from a primal terror that seeped into her bo
Matt, hidden behind the rusting hulk of a discarded car, felt the tremor of Ella's fear as a physical wave. He heard the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat, a frantic drumbeat against the night's silence. He'd left her deliberately, a calculated risk to confirm his suspicions, but the gnawing anxiety was a bitter taste in his mouth. He remained motionless, his senses hyper-alert, his eyes like burning coals in the gloom, scanning the shadows with a fierce intensity born of worry and a simmering rage. The air crackled with unspoken tension.He scanned the surroundings, his gaze sharp and unwavering, searching for any hint of an impending attack. A fresh wave of glacial terror washed over Ella. It wasn't simply the darkness; it was the suffocating, unyielding silence, punctuated only by the frantic, thumping rhythm of her own heart, a desperate tattoo against the stillness of the night. Clawing, primordial panic constricted her throat, a sinister vise squeezing the air from her lungs. She
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