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I'm still shaking off the travel dust.
Last Updated:
2025-11-20 01:04:36
Latest chapter
His Omega, His Punishment Thinks she's got me wrapped around her finger.
Taehyung’s POVThe sun climbed higher, mocking the tangled sheets and the woman nestled against me like a lover instead of a liar. Lisa's breathing had deepened into the slow, rhythmic cadence of sleep—trusting, vulnerable, utterly deceived. I lay there, eyes half-lidded, staring at the ornate ceiling of my bedroom, tracing the cracks in the plaster like veins in a dying leaf. My hand rested on her back, fingers splayed possessively, but my mind was a storm of calculations, each one sharper than the last.She'd played her part beautifully. The moans, the gasps, the way her nails had raked down my back as if marking territory she thought she'd claimed. I'd given her everything she wanted: the broken alpha, the man crumbling under grief and desire, the fool who'd finally succumbed to her web of smiles and subtle poisons. The drugged tea she'd been slipping into my evening rituals for weeks—subtle, wolfsbane-laced, meant to dull my senses, erode my loyalty to Clara—had never touched my l
His Omega, His Punishment Don’t you dare stop.
Taehyung’s POV The sun was a liar.It slid through the tall arched windows like liquid gold, painting everything soft and warm, as if the house hadn’t spent the night soaked in betrayal and chlorine and Clara’s blue lips.I sat on the edge of the bed exactly where I’d positioned myself an hour ago. Shirt half-buttoned, hair deliberately disheveled, the sheets twisted just enough to look like I’d thrashed through nightmares instead of memorizing every possible outcome of the next thirty minutes.I looked broken.I smelled like sleeplessness and bourbon I hadn’t actually drunk.Perfect.The guards outside my door believed I’d locked myself in after “feeling unwell.” I’d even let one of them hear me retch into the bathroom sink at 4 a.m. (water and a little creative sound effect). Word spreads fast in a worried pack.And worried packs gossip to pretty new girls who bake lemon bars and pretend they don’t know how to kill.Soft knock.Three taps. Hesitant. Exactly her rhythm.I waited fou
His Omega, His Punishment Do you suspect anyone?
Taehyung's POV Grief makes liars of even the strongest men. It twists the truth into shadows, turns allies into suspects, and carves doubt into every glance, every word unspoken. In the months since the ambush—those endless, suffocating months where Hang and my father lingered in their comatose prisons—I'd learned that lesson the hard way. The pack had rallied at first, a unified front against the invisible threat of James and his rogue exiles. But cracks had formed, subtle at first, like frost spiderwebbing across a frozen lake. Whispers in the halls, sidelong looks during council meetings, supplies going missing from the armory. And then there was Lisa.She'd appeared like a ghost from the northern borders, a lone wolf seeking sanctuary just weeks after the crash. Her story was polished, rehearsed: orphaned by a rival pack's raid, wandering for months before hearing rumors of our strength, our mercy. Her eyes—those piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the weight of storms—had ple
His Omega, His Punishment Touching you... that's unforgivable.
Taehyung's POVTrust is a luxury I buried with the weak. In this world of fangs and shadows, where alliances shatter like brittle bones and loyalties turn to dust under the weight of ambition, I'd learned that lesson the hard way. But tonight, as I stood on the upper terrace of the mansion, the night wrapping the estate in an eerie silence that clawed at my instincts, I realized just how deep that burial had gone. The air smelled wrong—too still, too calm, like the hush before a storm unleashes its fury. No wind rustled the ancient oaks that guarded our borders; no distant howls pierced the darkness. It was as if the world itself held its breath, waiting for the next betrayal to unfold.Below me, by the pool's edge, Clara sat with her knees drawn tight to her chest, her silhouette etched in the silvery glow of the moon. She stared at the water's glassy surface, lost in whatever tempest raged within her. The moonlight painted her in ethereal shades—fragile, open, vulnerable. My mate, m
His Omega, His Punishment I'm still shaking off the travel dust.
Clara's POVDays bled into one another like ink on damp parchment, each one a monotonous grind of grief and grit under the ever-watchful eyes of the pack. Hang's absence was a gaping void—his booming laugh no longer echoing through the halls, his steady hand gone from my shoulder. I'd visit Tae's dad daily in the healer's hut, sitting vigil by his bedside, willing my magic to seep deeper into his comatose form, easing the swelling in his brain bit by bit. The poison had been insidious, crafted by some rogue alchemist in James's employ, but the healers assured me he was stabilizing. Still, the waiting gnawed at me, a constant ache intertwined with the raw wound of losing Dad. Hang. The man who'd been my everything, even before I knew the truth. Taehyung threw himself into alpha duties, interrogating Silas until the traitor spilled every scrap of intel: James's hidden camps in the eastern wilds, his growing army of discontents, his obsession with "reclaiming" the pack by eradicating our
His Omega, His Punishment He'll regret every breath he takes.
Taehyung's POVThe first light of dawn crept through the cabin windows like a thief, casting long, pale shadows across the wooden floors scarred from years of pack life. I hadn't slept—not a wink that mattered. My body had lain still, wrapped protectively around Clara's smaller form beneath the heavy wool quilts, but my mind had been a storm, replaying the horror in endless loops. Hang's body, limp and blood-soaked, dragged back by the scouts under the cover of night. The metallic tang of poison clinging to his wounds like a curse—something foul, synthetic, not from any natural hunt. Clara's desperate magic flaring in the healer's hut, her hands glowing with that ethereal golden light as she poured everything into him, only for it to flicker out, leaving her drained and broken. And Dad... gods, Dad. Still unconscious in the healer's care, his alpha strength battling the same poison that had felled Hang, but clinging to life by a thread. The pack howled their grief into the stars last
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