Mag-log inđ„Her mate abandoned her for her sister. His dangerous brother decided to keep her.đ„ Olivia Reed's one-sided love for Eric ended in public humiliation when he ditched her at the airport during the camp trip for another woman-her own sister. Alone and exposed, she wished the earth would swallow her whole. Then a voice, dark and luring, cut through the air: "She's with me." It was Killian Roosevelt. Eric's estranged brother. Where Eric is false sunshine, Killian is all brooding danger, tattoos, and deadly allure. He wasn't part of her plan. Neither was sharing a room together. Now, forced into close proximity with the one man her husband hates most, Olivia is about to discover that sometimes salvation comes from the most forbidden place... And it looks damn good in leather. ~~~~~~ This is a dark, steamy standalone werewolf romance with themes of revenge, secrets, possession, and healing. Reader discretion is advised due to mature content and triggering themes, including violence and abuse, etc. đ
view moreOLIVIAI sat in the pack library, a book open on my lap, but the words blurred together.I wasnât reading. I couldnât. Every line reminded me of something elseâof freedom, of love, of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else now.The room was beautiful. Tall shelves filled with old books, soft chairs by big windows, the moonlight pouring in slivers. It should have been peaceful. But nothing felt peaceful anymore.I was a prisoner.Sold.The word still didnât feel real. Like a bad dream I couldnât wake up from.I clutched the book, my fingers white. I had to stop this. I couldnât let the fear win. Killian was out there. He was looking. I had to believe that. I had to be ready. Ready for what, I didnât know. An escape? A rescue? All I knew was I couldnât let Lucas break me. I had to play the game, even if every smile felt like a crack in my soul.I pictured Killainâs face the last time I saw himâstrong, worried, promising heâd keep me safe. I wanted to believe he was tearing th
OLIVIA I sat in office, the bottle in my hand half-empty already.The office was dark, the only light coming from a single lamp on the desk. Shadows danced on the walls, but I didnât see them. I didnât see anything except her faceâOliviaâs faceâthe last time I saw her at the auction. Smiling nervously, holding my hand like I was her lifeline.Three days.Three fucking days since she vanished.I had turned the world upside down looking for her. Maps and reports were spread out before me. I had torn through warehouses, threatened packs, broken bones. I had offered obscene amounts of money. I had painted the underworld with fear of my name.And I had found nothing.Lyraâs funeral had been yesterday. Alpha Roderick was a shell, his grief a cold thing that mirrored my own. We didnât speak. We just stood in the rain, two broken pillars, united only by loss and a promise of vengeance that felt empty without a target.I threw back another mouthful of whiskey. It burned, but it didnât warm th
OLIVIA I woke up, and for one beautiful, terrible moment, I didnât know where I was.Sunlight. That was the first thing. Real, gentle morning sunlight, streaming through a large window, falling across my face. I blinked, my eyes adjusting.I was in a bed. A real, soft queen-size bed with a cloud-like duvet and too many pillows. The room was⊠beautiful. Absurdly so. The walls were soft, creamy pink. There was a delicate vanity table with a carved mirror, a plush rug, bookshelves filled with colorful spines. It looked like a room for a princess in a fairy tale. A room for someone cherished.Then it all came rushing back.The blood. Lyraâs empty eyes. The cloth over my face. The concrete floor. The handsome man with green eyes and a smirk. Twenty million.I was sold. A choked sound escaped me. I sat bolt upright, the blankets falling away. I was no longer in the scratchy gown. I wore a simple, clean nightgown of soft cotton. Someone had dressed me while I was unconscious. The thought
KILLIAN The music was too loud. The laughter was too sharp. The air in the VIP balcony was thick with the scent of ambition, expensive perfume, and for me, a growing sense of wrongness.I kept one part of my mind on the conversation with Roderickâborder disputes, trade agreements, the tedious dance of Alphas. The other, larger part was tuned to a single person: Olivia.I felt her move away with Lyra. A good thing. Lyra was kind, benevolent. She could offer a moment of normalcy in this den of snakes. My eyes tracked them to the balconyâs edge. I saw them talking, saw Oliviaâs shoulders lose a little of their tension. Good.But as the minutes dragged on, my wolf began to pace under my skin. A low, restless feeling. *Sheâs gone, Killiain* What? My gaze swept back to the balcony. She was there, then she wasnât. Just an empty space by the railing.I cut Roderick off mid-sentence. âExcuse me.âHe followed my gaze, saw the empty spot where his own mate had been. A slight frown touched hi
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