ALEXANDERIt's 4:00 a.m. I'm awake earlier than usual, and my body badly craves a run. I have no idea why the image of Ethan smiling at that lady riles me up like an itch in my skull. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't ‘feel’ uncomfortable. After having a glass of water, I step out for a jog. The sky stretches in a hue of grey clouds, with a little bluish hue. It's just daybreak. The grasses are wet, the birds are chirping as a start of their new day, the sky's slowly clearing up—but my mind isn't. I keep jogging, keep struggling to get that intimate little scene off my head, but nothing's working. My fist collides with a tree as anger burns through my veins. He's disrupting my routine. I don't think about anything else apart from work and the pack on such a perfect morning. Why is he suddenly in it? ~~William, my butler, hands me a bottle of water as I stalk in. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back, his crisp suit giving him the charm of someone sophisticated. He gives me
ETHANGwendolyn wraps her arm around my waist. “You're back late,” she says, while Jaz crouches down to her level. Jaz caresses her cheeks, lips curling into a faint small. “Ethan had to work late to get some things done,” she whispers, fingers still lingering on Gwendolyn's chubby cheeks. “All that matters is we're home now, right?” Gwendolyn nods. “Mom made dinner,” she adds with a smile, running into the house as Jaz and I walk after her. Marinette's home always reminds me of my parents’—the intoxicating scent of roasted chicken that rises from the kitchen, the soft laughter that spills from mom's lips each time my father tickles her waist, the goodnight kisses…I miss the cuddles, the teasing—everything. I still feel guilty, though, because I believe I murdered them. Jaz and I talk about work while having dinner. Marinette keeps laughing each time Jaz talks about her experience with a young man at work. Apparently, the man told her she's too elegant and pretty to be sin
KILLAN A few days ago, I arrived at the human territory because I didn't like the idea of a human leading Grey corps. I don't trust people I see everyday—my mother, Nelson, not even my butler, Williams—and having a human watch over a company worth billions of dollars is like an itch in my skull. I'm sitting in my office, staring at a bunch of files neatly arranged on my black desk, and all I can think about is that—my—assistant. Dyed black hair. Pink thin lips. Warm brown eyes. There's something about the way he stared at me, like he knows something I don't, and that baffles me more than anything. Soft footsteps interrupt my train of thoughts. When I raise my head, I meet Hudson's gaze. He's smiling at me. God. It's so infuriating, I want to rip the smile from his face. He slips into the arm chair across from me, pushing coffee towards me. “How do you like your new job, Alpha Alex?” He winks at me, “and by the way…” his voice turns serious, almost like he's about to say somethi
ETHAN“We're meeting him today!” Jaz squeals, fingers loosely holding a cup of coffee. She's dressed to the nines—grey pants, white shirt that exposes her milky collarbone, and lips in a shiny red color that'll send any guy to his knees. We walk into Grey corps side by side, and while she has excitement on her face, I'm inwardly screaming. A new boss. I'm the personal assistant of that new boss. Luther made me face hell on earth. He always wants me busy, working, reading files over and over again for a single mistake. Hell, I'm so glad he's gone. A day before yesterday, Jaz took me to a restaurant, and it was more of a date—even though she tries to deny it. She keeps saying she wants me to loosen up, to forget about him, but I still keep seeing his silver hair in my dreams. She's making an effort to help me forget—I don't think it'll work, though. Jaz suddenly turns to face me, shoving her coffee in my hands. “Tell me, Ethan.” She whispers, lips in a tight, enchanting smile. Her h
ALEXANDERIt was 4:30 a.m.I was already awake, eyes burning into the ceiling staring back at me. In thirty minutes, I’d step out for a glass of water, retreat back to my room, take a moment to jog and by 7:00 am, I’d be having a cold shower.It was a daily routine.A routine I didn’t have to keep—but I did anyway.By 8:00 a.m., I was out of the shower, eyes brushing over my closet for the right outfit. Some casual shirt and grey pants?A light knock on my door made me pause, just slightly. Just after I said the word “come in,” light brown hair filled my vision. My Beta’s half body was peeping through my door. Blue tux. Lazy half smile. Neatly shaved jawline.I cocked a brow at him.What's the occasion?“Alpha Alexander, the car’s ready.” His voice floated into my ears, and I paused, taking a moment to reflect on the activities I have today. A meeting with the elders, signing a pack treaty with Alpha Zayne, settling a murder case in the pack. If I still had hours until then, what in
ETHAN Golden light spilled from the small bulb hanging by the ceiling, illuminating the small dining area. The smell of coffee—from the kitchen—drifted into my nostrils as Jaz’s excited voice cut through the air, “I still can't believe we're getting a new boss. Finally, a breathing space from the Almighty Luther.” Her smile widened, and I couldn't stop staring at it.“Don't you think we should celebrate this or something?” she wriggled her brows at me. I shook my head. “Still jumping into conclusions, Jaz?” That was Marinette. Soft. Warm. Sweet. Five years ago, she accepted a broken young man into her home, and she doesn't seem to regret it. With short auburn hair, pointed nose and rosy cheeks, she looked quite identical to Jaz. They were sisters, anyway. “He might be different, Marinette,” Jaz smiled, setting the table with her niece, Gwendolyn. She was three when I got here. She grew a little too fast. I stalked towards the kitchen, grabbed some plates from the rack, and pas
NELSONFive years laterSiblings should love each other, to be obsessed even, but I loathed mine. I lived in his shadow. He was smarter, stronger, blessed with the looks that sent ladies in a daze. Alexander didn't have a gruesome scar running along his cheeks—the scar he gave me during our first spar together. He'd told me, “brother, let's call this off, I don't want to hurt you.” But I didn't hold back. I channelled the anger I'd locked in for several years towards my fist, aiming for his abdomen. He defeated me, though, with a single strike. Alexander. Alexander. Alexander. They all cheered his name like the sweetest thing on their lips, but me, I kept thinking of ways to ruin that name, to break him, to make him crumble, but he was still alive. Still breathing. Still staring at me with that all knowing smirk. The deal was to kill him after a few months, but even with no memory and emotions, he gained the favor of the whole pack. The elders included. He sat there on the throne
ETHANA large suitcase. A small bag. Standing before a broken mirror, I stared at my not-so-familiar outfit. My hair doubled in length—not the usual light brown, but ravenblack—and my rich brown eyes looked tired, like they'd seen it all. And maybe they had. It's been days since I last visited the cemetery. Days without shedding a single tear, days without trying to call Killan's number, and days with just merely….existing. Trust me when I say it's hard. Really hard. Occasionally, I fight the images in my head, try to get occupied with something else, but they stick anyway. Grabbing the small bag with my bruised knuckles wrapped in gauze, I dragged the suitcase with my other hand. This whole town reminded me of him—Killan, and the longer I stayed, the more I'd break. I was already broken anyway. Barely hanging by a thread. Finding Gregor at my doorstep, I fumbled for the keys in my pocket, shoving it in his rough palm, “everything's cleaned. The bathroom, the living room, the ki
ETHANLove is beautiful, they always say. But to me, it was poison, a sick feeling that messes with your feelings, drives you to the brink of insanity and leaves you feeling worthless. I lost count of time, it practically lost its essence when I had no more reason to live—to survive. I couldn't explain how I managed to live past the heartache I felt each morning, but I kept reminding myself he'd be back. I'd visited the penthouse a few more times—I wasn't allowed in. I called Bernard countless times, sent dozens of messages, still no reply.Getting off the couch I'd been sleeping on for days, I clumsily grabbed my phone under the pillows. My apartment was a mess. My clothes were due for laundry, the dishes were piled up in the kitchen, and I couldn't remember the last time I touched a healthy meal. I'd been surviving on junk. For the first time in days, I finally opened Jaz’s text and missed calls. I didn't bother to read the dozens of messages lined up after another, I only rep