Vivienne Fox has a fuck buddy or friends with benefits but no strings attached, with Darius Kaelen Frost, the formidable Alpha of The Moonshadow Pack, known for his icy demeanor and his disinterest in romantic entanglements. He believed love to be superfluous, yet trusted Vivienne as his sole companion in matters of intimacy. Secretly, Vivienne harbored a hope that Darius might choose her as his mate, but she knew that was unlikely, given his singular focus on her physical presence—their clear agreement. However, everything changed when Darius's destined mate, Princess Celestria, emerged, and she’s meant to be the Moonshadow Pack’s Luna. It was a devastating blow when that day, Viviene finds out about her pregnancy with Darius's child—a taboo in their pack, where such unions without a formal mate were scorned. Faced with this dilemma, the doctor offered Vivienne a chance to vanish quietly, to protect herself and her unborn child. Darius, oblivious to her pregnancy, severed the deal with Vivienne for Celestria, dismissing Vivienne as inconsequential without knowing she carried his child. In a desperate bid to shield her child from the pack's judgment and the possibility of ruining the Alpha’s reputation, Vivienne fled without a trace.
view moreVivienne Fox
My legs locked tighter around Darius’ waist, breath hitching as he drove into me again, deeper, slower this time. Sweat slicked across his back under my nails. His necklace swung low and brushed my lips, cold and teasing, right before he crushed his mouth to mine. "You drive me insane," he groaned into my lips, voice all gravel and need. "So good, Vienne. Fuck, you’re everything." I gasped against his mouth, fingers tangling in his damp hair. “Then don’t stop. Prove it.” That was all he needed. He snapped his hips forward—harder. The headboard slammed rhythmically against the wall, our gasps syncing, a chorus of fever and filth. One hand tugged my hair, the other gripping my thigh with a bruising hold. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, burying his face in my neck. “Try me,” I whispered, smirking as my body arched into his. His rhythm faltered. His breath hitched. “Shit, I’m close.” “Then come,” I challenged, voice wrecked but confident. He did—eyes shut, jaw tight, whispering “baby” like it meant something. And I shattered with him, back arching, toes curling, breath caught in my throat as the room spun. Silence fell, heavy and intimate. He collapsed beside me, chest rising in ragged breaths. I glanced over. Even with sex-mussed hair and sweat-slicked skin, he looked like he belonged in a damn cologne ad. His voice broke the silence. “Gotta rinse off.” I nodded, watching his naked ass disappear into the bathroom like it hadn’t just wrecked me. I pulled the sheet over my body, not for modesty—just to feel grounded. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless. He could be it, she whispered. I hated that she might be right. Darius reappeared, towel low on his hips, hair damp and wild. He didn’t even glance at me as he grabbed his pants. “No cuddle?” I teased, lips quirking. “After blowing my back out?” He chuckled, slipping on his shirt. “You’d catch feelings.” Too late. Instead, I forced a grin. “Please. You’re not that unforgettable.” He came beside me, eyes still lazy from the night before. “What, you want another round?” he said with a low laugh, voice thick with mischief and aftermath. I smirked, biting back a sigh. “No... you might be the one who wants another.” He bit his lower lip, his gaze sliding down to my bare thighs. “I miss it,” he murmured, voice husky, like gravel dipped in silk. Before I could react, his hand slid over my leg, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles into my skin like he owned every inch. “You’re teasing me again,” I mumbled, gulping as heat rose to my face. “I’m just... not feeling well these days.” He stilled, then slowly pulled his hand back. The loss of his warmth stung more than I wanted to admit. “Did I push you too far—?” “No,” I cut him off, forcing a smile. “You think too much.” His eyes lingered on mine like he was trying to read through the cracks. “You can always tell me.” “You’ve been fucking me raw.” His eyes softened, but there was something unreadable swimming under the surface. A flicker of tension. He held my gaze like he was bracing for something. “I made sure it’s safe, so don’t worry,” he said, gently. Calm. Too calm. “You’re careful,” I echoed, looking down at the sheets. He arched a brow. “It’s almost time. I’ve got a meeting with an Alpha from another pack.” “You’re dismissing it,” I said, voice flat. I lifted my chin. “What would you do to me if I were…?” My words died on my lips when he sat down beside me again, a bitter laugh escaping as his fingers brushed against my hand. “Vivienne, that won’t happen,” he said, shaking his head with a low scoff. “It won’t. I’ve made sure I won’t make you pregnant, okay? This is just sex. Nothing else. If I were to actually get you pregnant… I’d risk everything.” “Because I’m an Omega,” I whispered, staring at him. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He bite his lips, “We have an agreement, Vivienne. Don’t make me like I’m the bad guy here.” “Alpha,” I murmured, voice shaking, “you don’t have to say anything.” “Vivienne, enough.” His voice cut sharper this time, low but edged with finality. “I’m not here to fight over something that doesn’t exist.” He stood up, like that settled it. Like that ended the conversation. “Besides,” he added coldly, “I know I was careful.” And just like that, the air between us shattered. I swallowed the ache, pressing a smile to my lips that didn’t reach my eyes. “Right. I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond. Just leaned down, pressed a kiss to my cheek like it meant nothing. “Later again.” And then he walked away, not even realizing I’d stopped breathing. *** The pack cafeteria buzzed with noise—cutlery clinking, laughter echoing, conversations overlapping—but it all blurred into static. I sat there, numb, barely tasting the food on my tray. My mind was still tangled in Darius’ scent, in the heat of his skin, in that stupid, dismissive argument we had. And god, it sucked. It sucked how one minute he could touch me like I was his, and the next talk like I was disposable. Like I was just a body he made sure wouldn’t ruin his plans. It sucked how I still ached for him, even when everything in me was screaming not to. “Girl, earth to Vienne,” my best friend, Zara, dropped into the seat beside me, snapping her fingers. I blinked. “What?” “You look like you just got wrecked or resurrected.” I choked on my drink. “Classy, Z.” She sniffed the air dramatically. “Wait... is that Alpha Darius’ scent? On you?” My face froze. Her eyes widened. “Bitch—don’t even try to lie. You smell like a wet dream dipped in authority.” I laughed nervously, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’re imagining things.” “Oh, please. I’m not blind. You’ve got post-Darius glow and limp energy.” “Can we not?” Zara leaned in. “Girl, if you’re his little secret... you’re playing with fire.” “I know.” And I did. Too well. She rolled her eyes. “Well, while you’re over there starring in your private romcom, the Crimson Pack Princess is arriving tonight.” My stomach sank. “Celestria?” “Yup. Rumor has it she’s Darius’ fated mate.” Zara popped a fry in her mouth. “Arranged marriage, Moon Goddess approved, all that crap.” I stared at her, heart ice cold. Zara nudged me. “Don’t panic yet. He might not even like her. Darius doesn’t do ‘love,’ remember?” Yeah, but I did. Stupidly. Quietly. And it was already too late.DariusIt’s pathetic, isn’t it? Me, Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack, reduced to begging for scraps of her attention. And yet here I am, every word dragging out of me like a plea, not just for the sake of our son—though that’s the excuse I hide behind—but because I can’t stand the thought of her walking away again.“Darius, don’t take this long,” Vivienne hisses, her voice sharp but trembling, her eyes darting toward the terminal behind her. “You’re making me miss the flight—”Her suitcase handle creaks beneath her grip, like even the steel can feel her desperation to run.“And I won’t let that happen,” I cut her off, my hand shooting out, locking around her wrist with the kind of certainty that makes her gasp. I drag her against me, her soft body colliding with my chest, and the scent of her—the wild sweetness that has haunted me for years—slams into my lungs until I can barely breathe.Her lips part, ready to curse me, but I’m already leaning in, voice low and dangerous, curling against
VivienneMy son’s small fingers squeeze mine. “Mom…?” His brows knit, confused, sweet, breaking me in all the soft places.Darius stops an inch too close, jaw tight enough to crack diamonds. “Don’t you feel bad for your son?” His voice is low, lethal. “He’s confused. He’s mine too.” He throws the last word like a gauntlet, heat rolling off him.I tilt my chin, armor made of eyeliner and audacity. “Congratulations,” I purr, “you’ve discovered paternity.”His nostrils flare. “I won’t let you get on that plane, Vivienne. I need a whole—fucking—explanation.”There it is. The gravity between us, feral and familiar. I hate that my body recognizes his voice before my brain does, like a song I’ve sworn I deleted but still know every dirty lyric to. The scent of him—clean soap and something darker—slides under my ribs like a promise I’m not supposed to want.I crouch to my son’s level, smoothing his hair. “Baby, can you grab us napkins from that counter? The brown ones. I’ll be right here—line
VivienneAirports always feel like limbo.Not here, not there. Just a place where lives are about to change, and nobody’s making eye contact long enough to see it happen.Alistair’s hand was small in mine, warm and solid. His other hand clutched his stuffed wolf—the one Daisy had given him—like the plane might not let him on without it. The ear was bent, the fur worn smooth in patches.We sat in those stiff blue plastic seats by the gate. Overhead, the intercom droned about boarding groups and delayed flights, a tinny hum that made everything feel slower than it should.I checked my phone.Nothing.No calls. No messages. Not even a “where are you?” or “wait for me.”Good.The boarding screen flashed Final Call – Flight 217. My heart didn’t race, but it didn’t slow either. I told myself it was just another step forward. One more crossing-off in my head: leave the pack house, leave the territory, leave everything.Alistair tilted his head against my arm. “Mommy?”“Mm?”“Will there be ic
Vivienne“Mommy? Where are we going?” my son asks, his tiny voice so soft it almost gets lost under the sound of his toy car skidding across the couch cushions.I force a smile, even though it feels like it’s stitched over a bruise. “Don’t you want a taste of the city?” I ask, tilting my head like it’s all just an adventure.He shrugs, eyes still on the car. “Of course, I do…” There’s a pause, the kind that makes my stomach tighten. Then he glances up, lashes brushing his cheeks. “But… will I see Lily there?”My hands still on the half-folded shirt. That name always does it—like someone just reached inside me and twisted. He doesn’t know the truth about Lily. Not yet. And Goddess knows I’m not ready to tell him. But somehow, deep down, he feels her in his bones.“Baby…” I murmur, kneeling until I’m right in front of him. “We’re coming back here soon. And when we do…” I brush a stray curl from his forehead, “…you’ll see her again.”He studies me, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m l
VivienneI’m processing everything, but every thought feels like it’s slicing me open from the inside.I want to scream, to throw something, to tell him that I hate him.But I just stand there—silent, still, pretending I’m stone.“You’re saying this right now because…?” My voice comes out flat, but my hand instinctively presses against my chest, like I’m trying to keep my ribs from breaking apart.His lips twitch. Not in sympathy. Not even in guilt.It’s almost—mocking.And it feels like a slap in the face. That he would think I could be the reason for the loss of his non-existent child.“I’m saying this because I don’t want you to think she actually had a miscarriage,” Darius says, his voice low but unyielding. “I don’t have another child with her. I never did. I’m just—”“Stop.”The word is sharp enough to cut through him, but my voice still shakes.“I don’t need to be informed about that, Alpha Darius,” I bite back, my tone laced with a formality I only use when I want to push him
DARIUS I think my vision actually blurred for a second. Not from shock. From rage. Because every memory I had of Celestria clutching her stomach, crying into my shirt, whispering about “our baby”… it all suddenly turned into something else. Something rotten. A performance. “Alpha,” Dr. Rhoslyn’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “You need to understand—I don’t know the reason and the logic that the Luna did this.”“Don’t speak.”“I’m just scared that the Luna will think I’m doing this as I’m against her.” I couldn’t even speak. My tongue was sandpaper. I turned away from her because if I didn’t, I might put my fist through the wall. Or worse, march straight into Celestria’s quarters and— God. I’ve been tearing Vivienne apart in my head for days. I’ve been keeping myself away from her because I thought if I looked at her, I’d see guilt in her eyes. But now? Now I realize I’ve been punishing her for something she didn’t even do. The corridor felt too long, too narro
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