LOGINRenee, a Disney and Harry Potter aficionado, is not your average girl. Beneath her nerdy exterior lies a secret - she is a rare breed of wolf. To protect herself, she must pretend to be wolf-less, a facade that subjects her to relentless bullying. Her first mate, who once shared clandestine moments with her, rejects her when she reveals their fated connection. His rejection is not of her wolf identity, but of her nerdy quirks, claiming he was only after one thing. Heartbroken, Renee leaves behind her past and embarks on a new journey, starting a catering business. It’s here that she encounters Jace, her second chance mate who has been patiently waiting for his destined partner. But just as things start looking up, her past resurfaces. Her former mate reappears, and she finds herself the prize in a competition between two Alphas. However, only one truly values her, nerdy quirks and all. The other, having discovered her true identity, is playing a dangerous game of deception. As Renee navigates this complex love triangle, she must decide who to trust and who to love. But the question remains: Will Renee choose the one who loves her for who she truly is or fall prey to the deceptive games of her past? The answer lies within the unfolding chapters of her life.
View MoreIt’s thirty-six minutes before her breathing evens out, before the wariness in her body language gives way to something that almost resembles rest. I stay perfectly still the entire time, arms slack, head down, forcing myself not to fidget or fill the silence. For someone who makes a living commanding rooms, it’s a kind of torture—more than once, I have to clamp my teeth together to keep from blurting out her name.When she finally emerges, it’s not dramatic. She peels back the blanket an inch at a time, fingers shaking but determined, and gives me a look like she expects to find the room empty. I offer her a thin smile. She blinks, as if surprised I haven’t left.“Still here?” she whispers, voice gone hoarse from crying.“Always,” I say, and instantly regret how much it reveals.She pulls the blanket up to her chin, defensive. “You don’t have to babysit. I’m not… I’m not going to break.”“I know,” I say. I keep my voice soft, so soft I almost can’t hear it myself. “I just want you to
JaceI let her slip away. It’s the only way it ever works with Renee—no sudden movements, no declarations, just a gradual, inevitable retreat behind whatever barricade she can scramble together in plain sight. She wraps herself in her nest with an efficiency that speaks to far too much practice: tangled sheets, a quilt that must’ve weighed as much as she did, two ragged couch pillows sandwiched over her head like noise-cancelling headphones. Only her bare ankles poke out, small and chalk-pale, twitching with each new pulse of anxiety as she senses me in the next room.I hover by the kitchen sink, coffee mug in both hands, as if the ceramic is the only thing keeping me from lunging across the apartment to drag her back. I stare out the window at the neighboring garage’s corrugated tin roof, where sunlight glances in hard, insistent angles. My wolf wants to flatten itself against the glass and howl. Instead I take a long swallow of bitter coffee, tasting it for what it really is: burnt,
I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe a little more trepidation or a nervous breakdown or at least the decency of a full-scale panic attack. What I did not anticipate was for my wolf to hijack my hands, my limbs, my entire corporeal self and start packing up my apartment with a ruthless efficiency that would have made Marie Kondo weep. She—my wolf, Jasmine—had decided, apparently, that we were moving out.It started with the kitchen. I watched, equal parts horrified and incredulous, as I gathered up my pots and Tupperware and half-empty bottles of spices into boxes scavenged from behind the corner bodega months ago. I could only observe, a passenger in my own body, as she tackled the blender, the hand mixer, the never-used bread maker with the methodical precision of a serial killer. Each item was wrapped in dishtowels and socks, then wedged into boxes, labeled in my chicken-scratch handwritingJace moves through my tiny kitchen like a force of nature at half-speed. He props one elbow o
The mix of emotions that go past her face was expected. I really didn't want to drop this bomb on her right when I got here. But she brought it up and I couldn't ask for a better opening to bring it up. Something I was truly dreading trying to find a way to bring it up. So, she did that for me."Why?" Her tone is neutral, her face is too."A few reasons, really." I admit. "One because it's the safest place for you to be." She starts to interject, but I raise my hand and shake my head. "No, let me explain."She closes her mouth and sits down, her arms crossing, and her lips pressed tightly together."So, there are a lot of things that I want to explain to you. But to be fair you just admitted my point yourself." I gesture towards the bed where she put the stuff from her nest. "You can't leave your nest set up because you are worried about someone seeing it and figuring out that you are an omega." I don't say that I feel like that isn't exactly right something tells we there is more to






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