LOGINKieran’s declaration hung in the steam-filled air, absolute and undeniable. For a heartbeat, Nate could only stare, his mind reeling from the raw possession in those words. A spark of defiance, the last ember of his independence, flared to life.“I’m not yours,” Nate breathed, the protest weak even to his own ears. His hands were still braced against Kieran’s chest, but they weren’t pushing. “You… you do not own me.”But even as he said it, a shocking, terrifying thrill shot through him. The admission, the sheer, unapologetic claim, should have infuriated him. Instead, it ignited something deep within, a part of him that was tired of being scared and alone, a part that was starved for this kind of fierce, unwavering certainty. He liked it. The realization stole the air from his lungs.A dark, predatory smile touched Kieran’s lips, as if he could see the internal war and knew the exact moment Nate’s resistance crumbled. His grip on Nate’s jaw softened, his thumb stroking a possessive l
Nate stumbled backward into the hallway, his self-defense training vanishing in a surge of pure terror. He managed to duck under the first swipe of its claws, the air whistling where his head had been. He turned to run, but a searing, white-hot agony exploded in his leg. He screamed, a raw, involuntary sound, as the creature’s claws hooked deep into the meat of his calf and tore back.He collapsed hard onto the dusty floorboards, clutching his leg. Blood, shockingly warm and dark, instantly soaked through his jeans, pooling beneath him. The pain was nauseating, a deep, gouging throb that radiated up his entire body. The coppery scent of his own blood filled the air, seeming to enrage the creature further.It loomed over him, its souless eyes fixed on him, its maw dripping with thick saliva. It was going to tear out his throatThis was it. He was going to die.No.The thought was not his own. It was a raw, primal scream from a place deep inside him. A wave of corrosive heat, both agoni
The dial tone buzzed in Nate’s ear, a stark contrast to the warm, reassuring sound of his mother’s voice. For the first time in weeks, he hadn’t been lying when he told her he was okay. He was safe, he was fed, and the gnawing anxiety about his wolf had been shoved into a locked box by a terrifying, blue-eyed werewolf.Kieran had been gone for three days. His departure had been preceded by a quiet, menacing warning delivered in the library, his voice a low growl. “The rules remain, Nathaniel. Do not leave the grounds. Do not test my patience in my absence. Rose will see to your needs. Behave.”And Nate, wisely, had.In Kieran’s absence, he’d found an unexpected peace. The mansion’s resident housekeeper, Rose, was a kind, no-nonsense woman in her sixties with a fondness for baking and brutal honesty. She’d taken one look at Nate’s skittishness and decided to mother him into submission with a constant supply of shepherd’s pie and fresh scones. He’d grown genuinely fond of her.He was ju
A sharp burn radiated through Nate’s shoulders and chest. He pushed through it, the strain a welcome distraction from the whirlwind in his head. Twenty-nine... thirty. He collapsed onto the plush carpet of his room at kieran’s house , chest heaving. The physical exertion was the only thing that quieted the noise.Then, the real noise started.It was muffled, but unmistakable shouting. A voice he knew better than his own. Liam.Nate scrambled to his feet, his muscles protesting. He didn't even bother with a shirt, just wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and hurried out of the room and down the grand staircase, his heart hammering for a whole new reason.The scene at the massive front door was a study in contrasts. Liam stood at the front porch, his face flushed with fury, looking wildly out of place against the luxurious backdrop. Kieran was a wall of calm in the doorway, dressed in dark slacks and a simple t-shirt, his arms crossed. He looked utterly unbothered.“—I swear
Consciousness returned to Nate in a slow, syrupy drip. There was no sudden jolt, only a heavy, weighted feeling that pinned him to the mattress. His head throbbed, a dull echo of the fury that had consumed him.He tried to sit up. A sharp, metallic pull on his left wrist stopped him.He turned his head, the movement an effort. A leather cuff was buckled snugly around his arm, tethering him by a short, strong chain to the heavy oak bedpost. The sight sent a weak spark of anger through the fog in his mind.His eyes drifted around the room. It was Kieran’s bedroom. But it was different now. A tall, silent IV stand stood sentinel beside the bed. A clear tube snaked down from a bag, ending in a needle taped to the inside of his right elbow. But the liquid in the bag wasn’t clear. It was a pale, shimmering gold, and it was slowly, steadily dripping into his vein.That explained the weakness. It felt like all his bones had been replaced with lead.Muffled voices filtered through the door, sh
The car’s silence was a physical weight, thick and suffocating. Nate stared at the back of Kieran’s head, the hum of the engine the only sound. The fear that had driven him into the car was rapidly being incinerated by a fresh, boiling anger. He’d been cornered, humiliated in front of his best friend, and forced to submit. The resistance he’d nurtured for days finally found its voice.“You can’t just do this,” Nate said, his voice low and tight. “You can’t just show up and drag me around whenever you feel like it. Leave me alone.”Kieran didn’t even glance in the rearview mirror. “We still need to keep an eye on you. Your little vacation is over.”“It wasn’t a vacation. It was me trying to have a life without you in it,” Nate shot back, his fists clenching on his knees.This time, Kieran’s eyes flicked up to the mirror, his gaze cold and assessing behind the sunglasses. “Is that what you were doing with your friend? What’s his name… Liam?” The name was a deliberate, mocking drawl. “Tr







