LOGINWill you ever justify sleeping with the man destined by your parents to marry your sister? Iris Calder was never reckless—until him. For twelve months, she’s lived for his touch, his command, his untamed scent. Their affair had no names, no strings, and no future—just a consuming, secret desire. But everything shatters when the stranger she’s given her body to arrives at her family’s doorstep… as her sister’s betrothed mate. Darius Wolfe. Alpha. Ruthless. Untouchable. Suddenly, the one-night stand is sleeping in the next room, and his irresistible scent is dangerously clinging to Iris’s skin. Forced to play the role of the perfect daughter while hiding a passion that could destroy two packs, Iris teeters on the edge of ruin. Darius’s control is unraveling, his wolf claiming what his title forbids, and every stolen glance, every night spent giving in to that desire, burns hotter than the last. Fortunately but unfortunately, their forbidden affair is the least of their worries. When the estate is attacked and a corporate investigation into the Calder family surfaces, their secret proximity only deepens. As the wedding approaches, Venus’s paranoia, a trusted Beta’s betrayal, and a hidden prophecy threaten to expose Iris, strip Darius of his title, and risk revealing the entire supernatural world. Can a relationship born in lust survive a secret that was literally destined to tear their world apart? Read now before the secret costs them everything.
View MoreIRIS’S POVThe scream died in my throat before it could even form.Darius was a blur of charcoal grey and raw instinct. He didn't think; he lunged. His boots skidded on the rain-slicked floorboards as he threw himself toward the balcony, his hand catching the back of Ethan’s collar just as my brother’s heels cleared the stone ledge. The sound of the fabric straining was a sharp, jagged snap against the roar of the wind.Ethan dangled over the abyss, his face pale and unreadable, while Darius strained, his muscles cording under the silk of his sleeves. The rain lashed at them both, turning the scene into a chaotic mess of shadows and salt spray.I didn't run to the ledge. I couldn't. My feet were rooted to the spot, my gaze locked on the woman in the black veil. She stood perfectly still, her hands folded over the silver key, watching the struggle with an indifference that was more terrifying than the fall itself."Mom?" I whispered again, the word feeling like a piece of glass in my m
DARIUS’S POVThe darkness wasn't just an absence of light; it was a physical weight, thick with the scent of old dust and the ozone of the storm outside. I didn't need my eyes to find Iris. I could feel her. The heat radiating off her skin, the sharp, jagged rhythm of her breath, and the way her silk dress hissed against the floorboards as she moved closer to me.My hand found the small of her back, my fingers digging into the emerald fabric. I pulled her flush against my side, my body acting as a shield between her and the looming shadow of the woman at the base of the stairs. The proximity was a visceral, grounding force. In the middle of this nightmare, the only thing that felt real was the friction of her hip against mine and the way she didn't even flinch when the first of the men in the masks lunged forward."Stay close," I growled, the words vibration against the crown of her head."I’m practically inside your suit, Darius. Any closer and I’ll be on the payroll," she whispered
IRIS’S POVThe Summer House didn't need high-tech sensors to feel dangerous. It had the weight of a century of misery pressed into its floorboards. As the front door hung off its hinges, the rain began to lash into the foyer, turning the fine layer of dust into a muddy slurry. The man in the gold mask didn't move like a soldier; he moved like a debt collector who had finally lost his patience.Darius stepped in front of me, his body a solid, warm wall of charcoal wool and muscle. I could feel the heat radiating off him, a fierce, protective energy that was far more grounding than any corporate bond. He didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't need to. He just stood there, his hands loose at his sides, looking at the intruders with a bored, lethal contempt that made my heart hammer a frantic rhythm against my ribs."Sterling really has a flare for the dramatic, doesn't he?" I said, my voice cutting through the sound of the rain with a sharp, biting sarcasm. I tucked the leather ledger unde
IRIS’S POVThe Summer House didn't just feel old; it felt heavy, as if the very air was saturated with the weight of a century’s worth of unspoken sins. When the massive oak door groaned open, it released a breath of stagnant air that smelled of dried roses, sea salt, and the metallic tang of a history that refused to stay buried.Darius stepped inside first, his hand instinctively reaching back to catch mine. His grip was a grounding force, his skin hot against my freezing fingers, but even his heat couldn't dispel the chill that seemed to radiate from the stone walls. I stepped over the threshold, the train of my emerald dress whispering against the floorboards like a secret.The foyer was a tomb of Victorian excess. Heavy velvet drapes, once crimson but now a bruised, dusty purple, choked the windows. Dust motes danced in the beam of Darius’s flashlight, swirling like tiny ghosts disturbed from their sleep.Nothing had been moved.A half-empty glass of amber liquid sat on a side
DARIUS’S POVThe humming never stopped, but it wasn’t that sharp, crazy buzz that had trapped Ethan and turned his brain to mush. This sound sat deep in my bones, low and almost musical, like something ancient and heavy was singing directly through the stone of the foundation. It crawled up the hid
IRIS’S POVThe sub-basement of 422 Wall Street didn’t smell like high-tech machinery or the sharp scent of ozone you’d expect from a billion-dollar empire. Instead, it smelled like damp earth, expensive cigars, and a century of secrets that had finally rotted right through the floorboards. It was t
DARIUS’S POVThe city of New York didn’t care that a mountain had just exploded upstate. To the millions of people scuttling along the sidewalks, it was just another Tuesday. The morning commute on Wall Street was a grey, grinding tide of expensive suits and black umbrellas. None of those people ha
CHAPTER 137DARIUS’S POVThe transport was a vintage, overhauled Land Rover that smelled like wet dogs and failed corporate dreams. Silas sat in the front, his posture so stiff he looked like he’d been taxidermied in his Sunday best. I was shoved into the back with Ethan—who was currently vibrating






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