"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"
Caspian's loud voice cut through the tension in the air, and as soon as he saw me, he rushed towards me and swept me into his arms. His hand cradled my head, but I winced as his fingers brushed against my tender scalp. It still stung from Bridget's harsh pull, and he noticed. It only made him angrier. "Who the fuck did this to you?" He demanded as his fingers gently traced the scratch marks on my neck and the red handprint on my cheek. He took in my tear-stained cheeks, my puffy red eyes, and my crushed figure, and his anger evaporated; his eyes filled with concern. "Olivia." He whispered, his thumb gently wiping my tears away.His eyes flashed red as his wolf fought to take over. I gripped his hand tightly and shook my head. "Don't." I whispered urgently. He struggled for a moment, his body rigid with tension, but I held him firmly. His wolf wanted justice, but letting him out would only complicate things further.Olivia Martins I couldn’t stop shaking. Karen’s blood soaked into the floorboards, sticky and metallic, thick in the air. I sobbed uncontrollably, the sounds raw and animalistic, my wrists burning where the binds had rubbed them raw. Her body had gone still. Limp. Cold. Dead. “No…” I whispered, as if I could take it back. As if that one word could rewind time. “No, no, no—” The scent was overwhelming, iron and death. My stomach turned and I doubled over, vomiting onto the floor, gagging on the stench, on the grief, on the horror. Bridget was whining about something to the witch, pacing like a child denied her toy. I could barely hear her over the pounding in my ears. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen,” she snapped. The witch waved a dismissive hand, unbothered. “All in good time.” “Why did you?” I screamed, lifting my head. My throat was raw, tears and bile on my chin. "You monster! How could you!" Bridget didn’t even look at me. The witch chuckled. I thrashed agai
Olivia Martins “No!” I screamed, fighting the ropes with everything I had. They cut into my wrists and burned my skin raw, but I didn’t stop. I twisted, thrashed, and kicked until my shoulders ached and my lungs felt like fire. The chair creaked beneath me, unmoving. The bonds didn’t loosen. If anything, they tightened. I couldn’t feel him. I couldn’t feel Caspian. That silken thread that had always hummed somewhere at the back of my mind, faint but real, was gone. Like it had been cut. Like it had never existed. My throat went dry. “What did you do?!” I roared, eyes burning as I glared at Bridget. “Undo it! You twisted, jealous, insane—” She barely spared me a glance. The witch stood nearby, still watching with that sick satisfaction, and Bridget, Bridget was basking in it. Hands on her hips, chin lifted like she’d finally won. “This won’t keep him,” I spat. “Even if you tricked the bond, forced it, his soul will know. He’ll still come for me.” Bridget turned then, slowly,
Olivia Martins Pain brought me back. A slow, throbbing ache bloomed in my skull like something had cracked open inside. My eyelids were heavy, but when I forced them apart, the world swam: darkness, flickering light, the tang of smoke, and... blood. I was upright. Tied. My arms were strapped to the sides of a chair with something rough and tight—rope, maybe, or leather—and my legs were bound at the ankles. Panic hit me fast and sharp, and I twisted, but the bindings didn’t budge. Then the burn in my hand made me freeze. I looked down. A thin line of blood ran from a fresh cut across my palm, dripping steadily into a silver goblet on the floor. My stomach flipped. The sight of my own blood didn’t scare me, but the reason behind it did. It hadn't been to hurt me, not really. It was almost like the goblet was there to hold my spilled blood, which was absurd. After all, what use could my blood possibly be? I looked up. Bridget stood in front of me, arms folded, a cruel satisfac
Olivia Martins Two weeks later The silence between Caspian and me had stretched so long, I started to wonder if we’d ever spoken at all. Caspian and I hadn’t said more than a few strained words in the two weeks since our fight. I didn’t know what was worse, the nights when he didn’t come home or the ones when he did, silent and stiff, taking the couch without a word. Sometimes I woke to find the door still open, like he hadn’t been able to bear being inside at all. At first, I trained with the warriors, pushing myself harder just to keep from thinking. But that didn’t last long. One by one, they stopped showing up. When I finally confronted one of them, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, Luna,” he’d said. “Alpha’s orders.” The title felt hollow on his tongue. I wasn’t Luna. Not officially. We hadn’t completed the bond. There had been no mating ceremony. Just… distance. So I trained alone. Ate alone. Slept alone. I tried to stay busy, but the walls of the pack house started
Olivia Martins The morning light felt wrong, too soft, too warm, for how empty my chest was. I hadn't slept. Not really. I stayed curled on the edge of the bed, eyes open, waiting for footsteps that never came. Caspian didn’t return. Not even once. When I finally pushed myself to my feet, I felt like I was moving underwater. Every step toward Victoria’s room was heavy, like my bones remembered the weight of last night. I knocked lightly. Victoria’s voice called, “Come in.” The moment I stepped inside, her expression shifted from tired to cautious. She was sitting at the edge of the bed, brushing out her hair. But she is alone. The bed is empty. Blankets tossed aside. Blake was gone. My stomach dropped. I'd wanted to apologize for what happened. “He left early,” she said before I could ask. “Didn’t want to cause more trouble.” I crossed the room and stood there, arms wrapped around myself. “Is he okay?” “He will be,” she said gently. “His ribs are sore, but nothing is broken
Caspian Storm The blood on my knuckles was already drying, crusting over my skin like rusted iron. It should've stung. It didn’t. Not as much as the way Olivia had looked at me, wide-eyed, not with love, but fear. She was already in our room when I came in. Not pacing, not crying, just sitting there on the edge of the bed, motionless, like she hadn’t moved since she left the courtyard. Her back was rigid, shoulders tight. She didn’t look at me. “Olivia…” My voice cracked from use or guilt. I couldn’t tell which. “I...” She flinched. A small, almost imperceptible thing. But it sliced through my entire being. I stopped mid-step. My hand hovered in the air, then dropped to my side. I wanted to go to her. I wanted to fall to my knees and tell her I didn’t know what happened out there. That something dark had slipped loose in me the second I saw another man touching her, her arms around him, even if it meant nothing. That the beast inside me, the part tied to her, maddened by the in
Olivia Martins The celebration hummed with life. Flames flickered in the courtyard’s fire pits, casting golden light over dancing bodies and long banquet tables piled with food. Laughter rose into the cool night air, and somewhere behind me, Ryker’s booming voice rang out as he accepted his official Beta title. I smiled, my heart warmed by the joy around me. After everything we’d been through, it felt good to celebrate something that didn’t involve blood or survival. Just the pack, together, honoring one of our own. I wandered toward the edge of the courtyard, needing a break from the noise. The trees stood tall and still at the perimeter, their shadows offering quiet. Just as I stepped past the last ring of torchlight, a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. I spun, heart thudding, my body tensing to fight. But then I saw the face. “Blake?” I blinked in disbelief. He grinned. “Hey, sunshine.” A laugh burst out of me as I threw my arms around him. “What the hell are you doing he
Caspian Storm The rogues never got to scream. I gave them a chance, one heartbeat’s worth, to regret what they did. One look into my eyes was all they got before I tore them apart. The first one died quickly. My claws sank into his chest and ripped through bone like it was paper. I could’ve dragged it out. I wanted to. But I had no time for games. The second ran. I let him. For a few paces. Then I was on him, teeth bared, fury burning hotter than any flame. I didn’t just kill him. I made him feel it. Every bone cracked beneath my fists. He begged and cursed me, as if that would save him. It didn’t. When it was done, I stood there, chest heaving, surrounded by blood. My wolf still snarled inside me, unsatisfied. He wanted more. Revenge wasn’t enough. We needed to protect. Protect her. My Luna. My mate. Olivia. I staggered back, drawing a long breath as my claws retracted. The rogues lay broken, their blood soaking into the stone. Ryker stood in the corner, silent, his expre
Olivia Martins The morning light filtered in soft and golden, casting warm rays over the tangled sheets and bare skin. I blinked slowly, breath shallow as I took in the man sleeping beside me. Caspian. His chest rose and fell steadily, one arm looped protectively around my waist, the other curled near his face. His lips were parted just slightly, his lashes dark against his skin. He looked younger like this. Peaceful. Human. I didn’t want to move. Every part of me ached, but not in a painful way. I ached with the memory of him, of us finally coming together after years of distance, heartbreak, and longing. My body still hummed with the imprint of his touch, and I knew I’d never be the same. I didn't want to. I shifted a little to face him, brushing my fingertips along his jaw. His eyes opened slowly. “Hi,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Hi.” A sleepy smile tugged at his lips. “You're still here.” I smiled back, just as softly. “Where else would I be?”