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LOGINâOkay, young lady, what are you not telling me?â Mom asks, her brows knitted, as she scans my expression with suspicion.
I realize how paranoid I was acting, but who wouldn't snap at such news? âIâm sorry, Mom, but you just revealed that you and Dad also canât stand Melinda. Iâve made it pretty clear that I can't tolerate that woman for one minute, let alone an entire week,â I lied through my teeth. That's what I can come up with, and it wasn't a lie; it was part of the truth. I hate Melinda. The thought of leaving with my brother under the same roof was a burden on its own, not to mention a bonus âMelinda.â I'd totally go crazy. âNo, Mother, I don't want to go, and I told you I'd be lonely, not scared. It's okay if Brandon doesn't come over. I will stay alone.â And, goddess, why does my voice come out sounding like Iâm upset about the idea of staying alone when itâs the opposite? Everything is a mess. âIf it's Melinda you're worried about, then be at ease; your brother mentioned she returned home this afternoon, and she will be staying for over a week.â Mom announces in a reassuring tone as she takes my hand, squeezing softly. I stare at her face speechless. If I didn't know better, I may have believed this was all a carefully thought-out plan. Why the hell was everything falling into place? All leading to me staying over at my brother's. Now Iâm at a loss for words on how to prevent myself from having to stay at my brotherâs house and experience the most difficult days of my life. Ugh!! I really hate this. How did things turn this way? One day, I found myself unable to stand the older brother I love so much, the one who used to treat me better than anyone else. I used to depend on him so much; even Brandon was envious, since he was an only child. Now I can confidently say that I hate my brother. I hate that he's my brother, and I hate that he changed after what transpired between us. I had hoped he would initiate a conversation, because goodness knows I wasn't going to start. He's the male, the one who's more mature, and who asked him to be so handsome? Sinful, and flirting with his perfect-figure girlfriend in front of me? I was sexually frustrated, and I got curious, and curiosity indeed killed the cat, the cat being our brother-sister bond that got damaged after that situation. Oh goddess. This is bad; this is really, really bad. I can already feel another headache coming on. âMom, please, you guys should take me with you. I can't believe you guys are leaving for a whole week without me. Am I not your baby anymore?â I try another tactic, and Mother laughs, blushing fiercely. I instantly understand what she's thinking. They are adults and need some alone time. âAngel, your dad and I need some time together. And you know you're no longer a kid. You'll be 21 in a week.â She scolds sternly, but her face softens the next second, and she inquires, âPlease, tell Mom. Did your big brother bully you and perhaps threaten you? Is that why you're afraid toâŠâ âNo! I will go and pack my bag.â I interrupted her, relenting. I seriously wasn't ready for another bully talk, as I'm already starting to recall how my brother had indeed bullied me with his finger in a certain tight hole. I shudder, goosebumps erupting on my skin at the memory. âThat's my baby.â Mom hugs me tightly, and I hug her back, her warmth providing me solace. âNow you have the opportunity to tell him what's bothering you.â Mother murmurs, and I almost choked on my saliva. âTell him what? ...â I demand pulling out of the hug, my heart racing so much. Mixed emotions swirl within me, from panic to doubt, then fear and denial. âAbout Melinda?â Mother asks with a frown. âWhat's wrong with you? Sweetheart. You keep forgetting things.â âIt's stress at work, Mom.â âIs someone bullying you at work? Have you told your brother about it?â she inquires worriedly. âMom, are you a friend or enemy?â I scream inwardly. âMother, no one will dare bully the sister of the CEO.â I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I reminisce about the workload I've been working on each day at work for months now. I sometimes end up skipping lunchtime, the only time I get to spend with Brandon. My life is a mess; it seems Selene is indeed punishing me for my sins. âThat's good to know,â Mother states, smiling, and I fake one in return. âI will call you down once we're done. You'll have dinner at your brother's...â âAt my brother's house.â I completed her words, âI know, Mom. Please don't miss your flight because of me. Itâs not the first time Iâm staying at Big Brotherâs.â I respond, and she nods, then turns to leave after cupping my cheek affectionately with a smile. I step inside after she leaves and close the door, leaning against it, my emotions spiraling out of control. I allow myself to slide down and sit on my legs, my head lowered. âHow did it come to this?â I whisper in dejection, letting out a weary sigh. ~~~ After packing clothes to last the week, including work attire from Monday to Friday, I head to the bathroom for a bath. âŠ~... Thirty minutes later, I make my way down the corridor, dragging my wine-colored suitcase, and notice Dad and Brother engaged in a deep conversation at the grand foyer; they were so engrossed that they didn't turn to acknowledge me. I arrive downstairs when Mom comes out of their room, I look at the four suitcases, and wonder if they were perhaps planning to stay a year. How did she even pack four suitcases in just this short time? She probably stuffed everything in. But thatâs my motherâclassy and sophisticated. Whenever we visit the human cities, people usually confuse us as sisters, with me, of course, being the older one. And with my four eyes and nerdy look, the men always check out my mother, the spotlight of every moment. Over three centuries ago, a plague that struck werewolves caused us to stop aging at 30, so my parents look just as I remember them at 5, even better with their daily fitness, but I don't join them, since I'd rather use that time to read, learn, and do other thingsâanything that doesn't involve working out. Yet, Mother compliments me for having a body that naturally works out considering all the junk food I consume. âIt's sad you hide that perfect figure behind those loose clothes,â were her exact words. âSweetheart, why didn't you dry your hair? You might end up catchingâŠâ Mom didn't finish speaking when⊠âAchoo!â I sneeze, and my eyes widen in disbelief. Turning, I see both Dad and Brother staring at me, looking more like buddies than father and son. âWhat in the world?â I curse internally. How strange is this? This is not the first time I didn't dry my hair after a bath. I never caught a cold, so why? Could it be something I'm inhaling? âAchoo!â I sneeze once again. âBless you,â Mother states, pulling me into a tight hug. âOh, my little girl.â She buries her face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent. She told me it calms her. âKyle, why donât we take her with us? Look at how pitiful she's already looking.â she adds, and before I can cheer about my wish coming true, my joy is short-lived when Dad interrupts quickly, âThat's not a funny joke, Pam. After a busy month without any action. This is a break we need without distraction.â Dad asserts, looking at Mom intensely. I turn to look at Mom, whose face is red, as she grins shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. These two look like they're going to break everything in that hotel with whatever they'll be getting down with. Dad wraps a hand around me, pulling me to his side, and placing a soft kiss on my forehead. I happened to catch Brother's eyes at that moment, and the bloodthirst in them as he looked at Dad made me tremble. I blink to be sure I saw right, and there really was nothing, just his usual stoic and aloof expression I've come to know over the past months. Maybe I was imagining it. âOur kids are grown enough to take care of themselves. Right, Angel?â Dad asks me, I look up at his face, and reluctantly nod with a forced smile after casting a glance at Brother. The door opens, and the chauffeur enters to get their luggage. Dad takes one, so does Brother, and they walk out, leaving only Mom and me. She hugs me tightly, inhaling me deeply. âI love you so much, angel. And please don't make things hard for your brother.â I nod, since it's me she believes is making things difficult. âI love you too, Mom. You and Dad should have fun.â I say, and she kisses me on the forehead. âWe will. I'll send you pictures, and we'll facetime every night, okay?â She cups my cheek, smiling. I nod, unable to fake a smile this time. They were really leaving me. We walk out with me dragging my suitcase. âAngel, if Cassian gives you any trouble, let me know and I'll take care of it,â Dad says as a joke, kissing me on the forehead. I smile awkwardly, stealing a glance at Brother, who's grinning with his hands inside his pockets. âYou two have the best time of your lives. And be rest assured I'll take great care of my baby sis.â Cassian drawls, his intense eyes fixated on me. And the way he stretches âtake great careâ makes my skin crawl. âThat's a promise,â Dad says, patting him on the shoulder, and he nods, looking at me, his eyes predatory? I must be wrong; I look away from him to Mom. I watch in silence as Mom and Dad enter the car and wave at us, and I wave back. I turn upon feeling Brother's looming presence behind me. I force a smile, and with my fingers fidgeting, something I do when nervous, I look up at his face and murmur, âHi, big brother.â
Cassian kicks the door to his bedroom open with his boot.He steps inside, and for a moment, all I can do is stare.The room is enormous.Walls painted in a deep charcoal shade, furniture sleek and masculine, and the faint scent of tobacco and aged wine hanging in the air.Everything about this place feels like him: dark, powerful, and untamed.Thereâs nothing of the Cassian from the pack here. This man, this version of him, is sharper, colder, and infinitely more dangerous.He walks toward the huge bed draped in crimson sheets, his movements unhurried but purposeful, and sits me down on the edge.My pulse jumps; the color bleeds temptation and warning all at once.He steps back and starts to unfold the sleeve of his shirt, which had been neatly folded after he placed the cufflink he had taken off his other sleeve earlier into his pocket, his eyes never leaving mine.Something inside me stirsâreckless and defiant. I stand and cross the distance between us.âLet me help you undress,â I
Cassian's shoulder is iron beneath me, and every step he takes sucks the breath from my lungs.The forest blurs by in flashes of silver bark and moonlight as my fists pound weakly against his back.âCassian! You lunatic! Put me down!â I keep yelling.He doesnât answer.Only the low rumble of his growl, the pounding rhythm of his stride, and his scent of tobacco and aged wine, mixed with something darker that makes my pulse stutter.By the time he reaches the road, headlights sweep across us. His jeep waits, engine humming.He opens the passenger door, still carrying me as if I weigh nothing, and slides me inside before taking the driverâs seat.âWhere are you taking me?â I ask, angrily shoving my hair out of my face, panting.His lips twitch.âYou said you wanted to have sex tonight. Iâm giving you that.ââI did, but not with you. I need to find Brandon,â I say, reaching to open the door, but a low, intimidating growl from him makes me freeze in my action.âOpen the damn door, and you
I spent twenty minutes in my closet searching for the one dress my mom bought me months ago.It's a red, mid-thigh jumpsuit with long sleeves and a low back covered with lace and tiny gemstones that glimmered like sin. Back then, Iâd tossed it aside, calling it too revealing.But tonight, I want to wear it.Tonight, I want to stop being the quiet, careful girl behind the glasses.I want to shed that skin and become someone bolderâsomeone who makes people stare.A huge part of me wants to see Cassianâs face when he does.Even my wolf, Silver, hums her approval.âThere you are,â I whisper, holding the dress against me. âPerfect.âI slip the dress on, matching it with shiny beige heels with jewelry. I style my hair, apply light makeup, and then a final stroke of bright red lipstick, and goddess, the girl in the mirror takes my breath away.I look different. Dangerous.I look like someone who could make any man drop to his knees.âŠ.When I step out, Brandonâs eyes darken instantly. He lea
âIâm sorry I couldnât come to see you, love,â he says smoothly, stepping closer. âI came, but your brother forbade me. He knows Iâm the one who leaked the fashion designs.âI let out a slow breath.âOh, that's, um, understandable.ââElla, you know I won't miss a chance to be close to you, not to mention you being sick. But you bringing that topic upâŠâ He pauses, his eyes scanning my face searchingly.âWhy are you distant? Are you pushing me away because you realize Iâm not your mate?â he asks softly.My stomach twists as I blink, caught off guard by the question.âNo,â I say quickly. âItâs not that. I justâŠâ I trail off, swallowing hard. I meet his gaze and ask him. âWhat if you meet your mate one day, Brandon? What will you do?âHe laughs, shaking his head, like Iâve said something funny.âIâll reject her for you.âInstant answer. Smooth. Practiced. Like heâs been waiting to say it.And he says it like love should sound like a promise, but it feels more like a threat.He cups my chee
Angela:~~~I walked into the bathroom and prepared a hot bath and went to stand in front of the mirror.Slowly, I strip naked, as I let my fingers glide over every inch of my body, tracing the swell of my breasts, the dip of my waist, and the curve of my hips, and my breath shudders out as my mind drifts, corrupted and wicked.I canât help imagining Brother behind me, his predatory gaze locking with mine through the mirror, his hands roaming my curves as though they already own me.âCassianâŠâ I moan softly, shivering when he pinches my nipples.âAngel⊠Why do you keep pushing me away? What do you want me to do with you before you accept you're mine?â His voice is hoarse, low, and laced with hunger as he teases my earlobes with his wet tongue.I gasp, throwing my head back against his firm chest, my fingers gripping firmly onto the edge of the sink as heat curls low in my stomach.âTell me, Angel,â he murmurs, rough and demanding.âBecause of⊠everything. Because youâre my big brother
âHow the hell are you pregnant?â I growl, voice low, guttural, and dangerous. Kai presses close, restless, just like every inch of me is demanding answers. Gently, turning toward me, she starts talking, soft and coaxing, the way she used to, when my heart still belonged to her. âHoney, please donât look so upset. You should know those contraceptive pills arenât a hundred percent safe.â She tries to sound lighthearted and teasing, but thereâs an undeniable nervous edge to her tone. And I wonder why, she has always been a confident woman. I donât speak. I just stare at her. âAwww, honey, why are you acting like this?â She presses in that infuriatingly calm tone that used to melt me, used to make me weak as she stepped closer. âMistakes happen. But youâre not considering our child as one, are you?â Her arms slip around me, pulling herself into my chest, and I freeze. It used to feel natural, her touch. Comforting, grounding. But now it feels⊠wrong. Heavy. It's like wearing someo








