Olivia Martins“The Luna requests the Alpha’s presence.” The maid announced.The Luna, my ass.Of course she did.I swallowed down the sudden heat rising in my throat, forced a sugary smile onto my face, and said sweetly, “I’ll let him know."Like hell I will.She curtsied and walked away.I shut the door. And locked it.The click felt too loud in the quiet room, but I didn’t care. I leaned my forehead against the wood and let out a breath.There was no way I was letting her have him tonight.When the water finally stopped, I sprang into action.I busied myself with the pillows, fluffed them twice, then dropped them. I checked the lamp. Turned it off, then on again. Pointless things. Anything to distract myself from imagining her body wrapped around his.He walked out in nothing but a towel, damp hair messy and dripping, a faint trail of water glistening down his chest.I turned, pretending I hadn’t been waiting for him like a lovesick idiot.He didn’t say anything. He just went into
Olivia MartinsBridget's scent clung to his skin like a second layer.I froze, immediately filled with disgust.No.No, no, no.I shoved at his chest.He didn’t budge at first. He was still lost in it, kissing my neck, gripping my waist like he needed me to breathe.“Caspian,” I said, sharper now, pushing harder. “Let me go.”His head lifted, dazed and flushed. “What?”I scrambled out from under him, my heart pounding. My body was still aching for him, still wet, still hot, but I couldn’t ignore it. I wouldn’t.“You were with her,” I spat.He blinked, confused and drunk, like the sentence didn’t register. Then he gave a slow, dismissive shrug and leaned back on his elbows.“She’s my mate,” he said simply, like that explained everything. Like that excused it.Rage clawed up my throat.“She’s not your fucking mate, I am.” I snapped.He groaned and dragged a hand through his hair, looking both exhausted and turned on. “Olivia…”“No,” I hissed, storming away from the bed. “Don’t ‘Olivia’
Olivia MartinsThe room was too quiet without him.I sat curled on the couch, knees to my chest, wrapped in one of the soft blankets I’d found at the foot of the bed. The lights were dimmed low, casting a golden glow across the walls, but it did nothing to warm the emptiness of the space. I had changed into my pajamas, an old cotton tank and shorts that suddenly felt too thin for how cold the room had gotten.I checked the time again. It was well past midnight.He hadn’t come back.I told myself I didn’t care. That I didn’t expect him to. But that didn’t stop my eyes from darting to the door every time I heard a footstep in the hallway. Every creak of the wood. Every distant voice. I waited. Hoped.Nothing.I didn’t know what I’d expected. For him to remember me in a rush? Pull me close? Did I push him too much?Was he...with her?I swallowed hard and stood, pacing to the edge of the room and back again. My fingers twisted into the hem of my shirt. I glanced toward the door one more t
Olivia MartinsThe sound of quiet footsteps stirred me from sleep.I blinked against the light pouring in through the tall windows, my body stiff from sleeping curled up on the couch. My blanket had slipped halfway off during the night, and the air was warm, but not warm enough. I pulled it tighter around me, pushing up on one elbow.There were maids in the bedroom. Two of them, moving softly, carefully. Their eyes flicked to me and then away again. Not unfriendly… but uncertain. Like they didn’t know what to make of me.I sat up fully. “What time is it?” My voice was hoarse.One of them, short and younger, looked at the other, who cleared her throat and said gently, “Almost noon, miss.”“Noon?” I scrambled upright, my heart lurching. “You’re serious?”She nodded. “You were asleep when we came in. We didn’t want to wake you.”I rubbed my eyes, muttering under my breath. I hadn’t meant to sleep that long—hadn’t even meant to sleep here. My body had clearly given up. Maybe it was the st
Olivia Martins He was standing there.Shirtless. Barefoot. Silent.“Caspian!” I gasped, arms shooting up to cover myself, the cold air prickling my skin.He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. His gaze felt like a brand.He leaned against the doorframe like he owned the damn world, and maybe he did. The mist had clung to him, beading on the dark hair of his chest, highlighting the ridges of muscle across his stomach. He looked like he’d just walked in from the wild. Raw. Untamed. His eyes were unreadable, hooded, and trained directly on me. Not a word. Just… watching. “What the hell, Caspian? You shouldn’t be here!” My voice came out weaker than I intended.He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.A smirk tugged at his mouth, a flicker of something dangerous. “It’s my pack, my house… my shower.“ He said casually, the words a low rumble that vibrated through the small space. "I can do whatever the fuck I want."God, he was infuriating. And...arousing. I hated him for it.I reached for a towel
Bridget ReyesI slammed the door shut behind me so hard the frame shuddered.“Stupid mutt,” I hissed under my breath, ripping the shawl from around my shoulders and hurling it across the room. “Filthy, lying, wretched bitch.”I stormed across the room and back again, my heels clicking against the marble floor, then stopped and threw them off too. One bounced off the wall with a satisfying thud. My chest rose and fell with every breath. I could still see her face, the way she stood there like she belonged in that room. Like she had a right to be near my mate. And Caspian, he remembered her.DAMNIT.My stomach twisted at the thought. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to forget her. Forget the past. The witch had promised.A soft knock sounded at the door. “Ma’am?” one of the maids whispered. “Shall I bring your dinner now?”I turned slowly, rage already burning in my throat.“Does it look like I want dinner right now?” I snapped.The girl flinched. “I-I’m sorry, I—