LOGINSara.
“Shit!” The curse flew out of my mouth the second I saw the cracked clock. I was already late for chores, but all I could focus on was the deep, throbbing ache between my legs — raw and sore from how hard Killian had fucked me last night. He had slammed into me, made me moan and beg, then left me cold and empty in that tiny bed like I was nothing. I threw on one of my faded, ugly hand-me-down dresses, didn’t even touch my messy hair, and rushed out. The moment I stepped into the hallway, my heart slammed against my ribs. Rita, Darian, and Cole were walking out of the dining hall, laughing loud like life was perfect. And right in the middle — acting like nothing had happened — was Killian. He looked up. Our eyes met. For one stupid heartbeat, I hoped. I waited for something — anything — that said last night meant more than pity. He blinked once… then looked away. Turned back to Darian with that casual smirk, talking like I was invisible. Like he hadn’t pinned me down and buried his dick deep inside my pussy until I was crying out his name. My chest cracked open. I stood there frozen, breath stuck in my throat. Tears burned hot behind my eyes. What the fuck was I expecting? That he’d pull me aside? Smile at me? Tell me I wasn’t just a quick fuck? Of course not. I was still the pathetic omega orphan. The pack’s favorite punching bag. Last night was nothing to him. I swallowed the sob clawing up my throat and forced my legs to move. Don’t you dare cry here, Sara. Not where they can laugh at you. I hurried to the West Wing. The maids were already working. The second I walked in, their whispers slapped me. “Late again. Worthless as usual.” “Probably spent the night on her back somewhere.” I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood and started scrubbing, my hands turning raw and red. Every move made the soreness between my thighs pulse, reminding me how stupid I’d been. When they finally let me go, I ran back to my room, showered fast, and tried to wash him off me. The water didn’t help. I still felt dirty. Used. Discarded. Tonight was the banquet. The Alpha let me attend as a “guest,” but I knew I’d still end up serving like a maid. My head was spinning the whole time I got ready. Should I find him? Force him to talk? Tell him last night wasn’t just sex for me? I wandered the halls, chest tight, until loud angry voices pulled me toward the Alpha’s study. “That is final!” Alpha Blackwood roared. “Disobey me and you’ll regret being my son. Now get out!” The door burst open. Killian stormed out, face dark with fury. I stepped forward before I could stop myself. “Killian… are you okay? What happened?” “Fuck off, Sara,” he growled, not even slowing down. “Killian, please—just wait!” He spun around, eyes flashing red. “How long were you eavesdropping like a desperate little rat?” “I just got here! I swear! I was looking for you because after last night—” “Good. Then get lost.” My voice shook badly. “Can we talk later? When you’re not this angry? Please… I need to—” “Talk about what?” he snapped, stepping right up to me. “What the fuck do we have to talk about?” “Last night…” Tears slipped down my cheeks. “When you were inside me… when I came around you… it wasn’t nothing, was it? Tell me it meant something to you too.” Killian laughed — cold, mean, ugly. “Last night was a mistake. Pity pussy. Don’t ever mention it again.” He grabbed my shoulder hard, fingers digging in until I gasped in pain. “Stay the hell away from me.” Then he shoved me against the wall and walked off without a backward glance. I stayed pressed there, breathing fast, shoulder throbbing. But the worst pain was deep in my chest — like something vital had been ripped out. Was I really just a quick, shameful fuck to him? Then a soft, warm voice whispered inside my head. “He felt the bond last night… while you were sleeping. He knows.” I gasped, hand flying to my chest. “Who are you?” “I am Greta. Your wolf. Your soul.” Warmth spread through me, gently soothing the ache in my shoulder. Today was my eighteenth birthday. I’d forgotten in all the pain. Eighteen changed everything. “Why is he acting like that?” Greta asked, sounding as broken as I felt. “He felt the mate bond. I know he did.” “He’s… my mate?” I whispered, staring down the empty hall. “Yes, Sara. He is ours.” If we were mates, last night wasn’t pity. It was fate. Maybe he was scared of his father. I couldn’t hide anymore. I had to find him at the banquet. The Great Hall was blindingly bright when I stepped in. Heads turned. Whispers cut into me like blades. “Look at the orphan. Still showing her face?” “Pathetic. She thinks she belongs here.” I kept my head low but searched until I found him near the Alpha’s dais. He was surrounded by his friends, laughing loud like his life was golden. He looked so handsome in his suit it physically hurt. The pull in my chest turned sharp and painful. My wolf howled. Mate! Killian’s head snapped up. He caught my scent. His laughter died. His face twisted into pure disgust. I walked closer, legs shaking, tears already falling. “Killian… can we talk? Please. Just one minute.” The whole group went silent. His friends smirked, hungry for the show. “I told you to get lost,” he said coldly, stepping toward me. “But the bond… you feel it too, right?” My voice cracked, tears streaming down my face. “After last night… when you fucked me… when I was moaning your name… it wasn’t nothing! Tell me you felt it!” He glanced at his father, who was watching with hard, expectant eyes. When Killian turned back to me, his gaze was ice-cold and cruel. He leaned in close, breath hot against my ear. “You really thought someone like you could ever be enough for me?” Then he pulled back so the entire hall could hear every single word. “I don’t want a weak, pathetic orphan like you as my mate.” The words sliced deep. He stepped even closer, towering over me, voice booming through the silent Great Hall like thunder. “I, Killian Blackwood, reject you, Sara, as my mate.KILLIAN."She's not coming back, is she?"Leo stood in the doorway of my study on the second day, small and still in his pajamas. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement from a five-year-old who had already learned that adults sometimes lied to make things hurt less.I hadn’t slept. The bond in my chest felt like a lamp running out of oil, the flame flickering weaker with every passing hour. Claude’s latest trace had hit a dead end. Three search teams had come back empty-handed. Candice had vanished completely.I looked at my son standing there, blue eyes steady and far too knowing for his age."Come here, Leo," I said quietly, my voice rough from disuse.He walked over without hesitation and climbed into the chair across from my desk. He didn’t cry. He didn’t ask a hundred questions like he usually did. He just sat there, small hands folded in his lap, looking at me like he was waiting for me to fix the world.We sat in silence for a long time.Then Leo reached into his pajama pocke
CANDICE."You look terrible."The old woman behind the counter said it without judgment, just a simple observation as she poured coffee into a chipped mug and slid it across the counter toward me.I sat in the small roadside diner forty minutes outside Crescent Moon territory, the kind of place truckers and lost souls stopped at 3 AM. No phone. No bag. Just the clothes on my back and the small carved wolf tucked deep in my pocket like a secret I couldn’t let go of.I wrapped my cold hands around the warm mug and stared at the dark liquid.“Thank you,” I whispered. My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “For the coffee.”The old woman — grey hair pulled back in a loose bun, kind eyes that had seen too many broken people — didn’t ask questions. She just nodded and kept the pot nearby.I sat there for hours, the weight of what I’d done pressing down until I couldn’t breathe.“Greta?” I whispered under my breath, so quietly the old woman couldn’t hear. “Are you there? Please…
KILLIANThe east wing sitting room felt like a cage.Elaine sat across from me, legs crossed elegantly, teacup in hand, looking for all the world like we were negotiating a simple alliance instead of bargaining for Candice’s life.The bond in my chest pulsed weakly — a fading heartbeat that reminded me with every second how little time we had left.Claude stood to my left, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. Darian stood by the door, arms crossed, eyes burning with quiet horror as he watched Elaine like she was a venomous snake ready to strike.Elaine took a slow sip of tea, then set the cup down with deliberate grace.“So,” she said calmly, “let’s be clear about what I’m asking for. I want formal recognition as a protected ally of Crescent Moon Pack. Full status. Immunity from my father’s reach. No more surveillance. No more Claude watching my every move like I’m seconds away from betraying you all.”Claude’s jaw tightened. “You leaked information that could destroy this
KILLIANI was losing my mind.The ache in my chest had become a constant, gnawing void that refused to let me breathe properly. Every inhale felt shallower, every exhale heavier, like the bond itself was being slowly strangled. The steady pull that had anchored me since Candice walked back into my life was dimming faster now — a flame struggling against a storm, flickering weaker with every passing hour.I paced the command center like a caged wolf, hands clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms, drawing blood I barely felt. The monitors glowed with useless maps and dead-end traces. The silence in the room was deafening except for the pounding of my own heart.Claude stood in front of me, trying to block my path, his face exhausted but determined.“Killian, you need to breathe,” he said, voice low and urgent. “You’re spiraling. The bond dimming is serious, but panicking won’t help us find her faster. You have to stay focused. For her. For the children. For the pack.”I stopped pac
KILLIAN.It started as a quiet ache.The kind that crept in slowly, like a lantern running low on oil. At first I thought it was only guilt. I deserved every bit of it after the things I said to her in that corridor and the way I let her walk out in silence. But this feeling kept growing heavier, deeper, carving out a hollow space inside my chest that no amount of whiskey or pacing could fill.I sat alone in my study at 3:12 AM. The room felt too large, too empty. Moonlight sliced through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the heavy oak desk. Blank monitors stared back at me like dead eyes. The half-empty bottle of whiskey sat untouched, the glass beside it still clean. Sleep had become a stranger. Food tasted like ash. Every breath reminded me that something vital was slipping away.I pressed a hand over my heart, frowning at the strange coldness there. The pull that had anchored me since Candice walked back into my life used to feel warm and steady, like a quiet promise h
KILLIAN.The pack house was unraveling thread by thread, and every single one of those threads had my name on it.I stood in the doorway of the children’s playroom, watching Leo push his plate away for the fourth time that morning. The toast and eggs sat untouched, growing cold. His small face was pale, his eyes red and swollen from crying through the night. He kept glancing at the door like he expected Candice to walk in any second with her usual soft smile and quiet “eat up, baby.”“Leo, please,” I said, my voice rough and exhausted. I knelt beside him and gently pushed the plate closer. “Just a few bites. You need to eat something. Mummy wouldn’t want you to go hungry.”He shook his head, lips trembling. “I’m not hungry. I want Mummy.”The words sliced through me like a blade straight to the heart.“I know, buddy,” I whispered, pulling him into my arms. He buried his face in my chest and started sobbing quietly. I held him tight, rocking him gently, feeling my own eyes burn with te







