LOGINIxora, a wolf less omega, couldn't believe her eyes when she discovered that her fiancee is cheating on her. But like a soft girl she is. She forgave him after he promised not to cheat on her again. On her birthday night when he is supposed to announce her as his fiancee, Christopher publicly crushed her in front of the whole pack, rejecting her, leaving her humiliated and broken them chose her sister over her. But fate has other plans. When she thought all hope is lost, a stranger returns- Christopher's psychotic brother who was sent to an asylum years back. He was crazy and a psycho but he turned out to be her mate. He claimed her and soon step up as the new Alpha of the pack. His mission was to also break her and to make his brother jealous, but will it grow to obsession? Is his ice heart going to melt for a soft girl like her?
View MoreRONAN POVThe sun hadn’t climbed yet. The light was pale and gray, like it was afraid to touch the world too soon.I watched her sleep.Ixora’s breath rose and fell in the kind of rhythm you only find in those rare, untouchable moments. Her face turned slightly toward the window, one arm flung carelessly over the blanket like she didn’t give a damn what the world expected of her. There was something about watching someone sleep, not in that obsessive, twisted way but in the kind of way where you’re terrified the world might steal them the second you look away.My knuckles still ached.Chris’s voice still rang in my skull like a bad memory. That smug, scraping tone. The sharp twist in his grin, the kind that didn’t belong to love anymore if it ever did. I should’ve ended it. Should’ve finished him the way I was built to. But I didn’t. Maybe because she still saw the good in me. Maybe because for once, I wanted to be worthy of that.Or maybe I was just tired.Tired of blood.Tired of be
RONAN POVThe sun wasn’t up yet. The light filtering in was pale, lazy, undecided. It cast everything in the kind of hush only early mornings knew how to hold. The kind that made even breathing feel loud.Ixora lay beside me, her body curled slightly away but not far enough to be distant. She was still holding that scarf. Chris’s scarf. The red one. Folded too neatly, like she was trying to trap its history inside perfect corners. Like something so broken could be tamed if only it sat still enough.I hadn’t slept.Not even for a minute.The hours had crawled by, thick with thought. My mind a looping reel of every second, every word, every glance that passed between him and her. Every mistake I made by not getting there faster. By not knowing.By letting her walk into something I should have seen coming.Chris.I hated the sound of his name in my head. It didn’t feel like a person anymore. Just a sickness that spread. Something that latched onto whatever light was left in the room
RONAN POVThe walk back was longer than it should’ve been.The sun had already started to dip low in the sky, slipping behind the trees with a quiet kind of finality. It painted everything in gold and bruised purple, like dusk had something to say but didn’t know how to say it. The wind was sharp, slicing through the trees and against my skin like it had a message for me. Like it had grown tired of watching me lose her, piece by piece, and wanted to remind me just how much time I had already wasted.Every step felt heavier than the last. Like the ground wanted to keep me from reaching her. Like even the forest had started picking sides.By the time I reached the porch, my hands were fists in my coat pockets. I didn’t know if I was trying to hold the cold in or keep something darker from spilling out. Regret maybe. Rage. Guilt. I didn’t know what I was walking into, only that it was probably more than I deserved.I don’t know what I expected when I opened the front door.Silence, maybe
RONAN POV There was a tightness I couldn’t shake.Not the physical kind. Not something I could stretch out or bleed away. This one sat in my chest, right under the bone, where instinct lived. Where memory scraped raw.Ixora had been quieter since her talk with Flora. She didn’t say much after she came back in — just went straight to bed without finishing her tea. She tried to hide it, but I saw the weight in her shoulders. The kind of heaviness that didn’t come from a fight but from remembering why you had to keep fighting.I thought maybe sleep would help her. That maybe tonight, for once, the ghosts would leave her alone.I was wrong.She came back down just after sunset. No shoes. Eyes a little too wide. And in her hand — a scarf.I knew it before she said a word. That scarf didn’t belong to this moment. It was from another time. One she hadn’t spoken of in a long while. Her fingers were clenched around it like it might vanish if she let go.She held it out to me. Said nothing.I
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