LOGINDAVINAHeat pooled at my core at the sound of his voice. My mind anticipated the numerous dirty things he could do to me on the rooftop and my body shivered at the thoughts.His voice pulled me back to the moment.“Lie down,” he spoke, no, commanded. His eyes darkened with lust, watching me as I obeyed, moving slowly until my back finally hit the cold surface of the table. He took a few steps forward until he was standing between my legs, eyes raking my body like I was something he wanted to devour. And maybe I was. I wanted him to devour me.He traced his hands up my thighs, lifting my dress as he did until my dress way bunched around my waist. “Beautiful,” he said, more to himself than me as his hand found the waistline of my panties. In one swift move, he tugged at it, ripping it off completely. The cool breeze flushed against my core and I squeezed my thighs shut–well, I tried to, but he slapped them right back open, causing a gasp to tear through my throat. “Keep your legs a
DAVINA I had barely finished towel-drying my hair when the doorbell rang.Frowning, I tightened my robe. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Marcy was out of town for the weekend, and I had made zero plans. The entire day had been carved out for me, my couch, an endless romcom queue, and enough snacks to ruin any hope of a flat stomach.Still, the bell rang again.I padded to the door, peeped through the keyhole, but no one was there. The hallway looked deserted. Paranoia prickled down my spine. I cracked the door open.There it was.A sleek shopping bag sat neatly beside a stunning bouquet of deep red roses, and nestled between them, a cream-colored envelope with my name written in sharp, precise handwriting.It was him.A smile pulled at my lips before I could stop it.I picked everything up and shut the door behind me. Settling onto the couch, I opened the card first.Dinner tonight. Wear the dress.LThat was it. No dramatic declarations. No explanations. Just confident instructions like
LEVIThe numbers on my screen blurred together, projections, forecasts, revisions, all perfectly structured and meaningless in that moment. My team’s voices droned from the laptop speaker, clear and confident, but none of it was landing. I wasn’t really there.I was still with her.Davina.It was pathetic how easily her name could knock the wind out of me. Days had passed since that moment, her body so close as she pleaded to see my face, desperation oozing off her in waves. The night when she had the window open like I had instructed, sprawled on her bed, fingers sliding over and in and out of her crazily wet pussy, slick and hungry, her moans and heavy breaths were barely controllable, eyes rolling into the back of her head like she was seconds away from shattering, like she wanted me to cross the line I’d spent months drawing.And God knows I wanted to.I’d spent a whole year lurking in the background of her life, making sure she was okay from a distance. That day, in that mome
DAVINAI couldn't explain the ache curling low in my stomach, or how every shred of self-control seemed to slip away, quiet and unapologetic.I should’ve been trembling, shaken from what nearly happened, but all I could feel was the echo of his presence. The safety he gave me without asking for anything in return. In that moment, gratitude washed over me, settling heavily in my chest.But underneath that gratitude was something far more restless. A need I couldn’t name. I wanted to look at him because the not-knowing was driving me mad. What color were his eyes? Did they narrow when he watched me? Did they soften when I smiled? I wanted to know the face behind the voice that curled around my spine and held me still. I let out a petulant, almost child-like whine. His hand on skin was intoxicating, like a drug I wanted to keep using. The heat of the contact made me shiver. I wanted more. More of him. This time, he wanted a show. If a show was what he wanted, then a show would be what
DAVINAThe streets were too quiet.I knew it the moment I turned the corner, but I kept walking anyway. My shift had run later than usual, and Marcy had left hours ago after her part of the double. It was just me tonight.Work was no different than usual, save for one thing.Table 6.They’d come back.The same group of overconfident finance boys who thought tipping an extra ten bucks meant they could grope freely. I recognized them the second they sauntered in with cocky grins, shirts unbuttoned too low, entitlement radiating off them like bad perfume. I tried to avoid their table, but management said they were “big spenders.” So, naturally, I was sent over.I handled their crude jokes and the not-so-subtle comments until one of them decided to reach over and slap my ass while I leaned to grab an empty glass.I turned and slapped him hard enough to make the room fall quiet. He called me a bitch. I told him to choke. That earned me a talking-to in the manager’s office, but I didn’t
NATEMy studio was my temple, clean lines, black leather, and glass walls overlooking downtown LA. The kind of space where silence hummed money and discipline. I liked it that way. Minimal, controlled, and predictable.Except today, it wasn’t silent.Heather was already inside, standing by the control board like she owned the place.I shut the door behind me a little harder than I needed to. “You ever get tired of breaking into my studio?”She didn’t flinch, didn’t even look up right away. “It’s not breaking in if I have the access code,” she said, flipping through her iPad like it was her damn property deed.I walked past her, tossing my jacket onto the couch. “You know I hate unannounced visits, Heather.”“And you know I don’t give a damn,” she shot back, finally turning to face me. She was dressed sharp as always, black suit, red lipstick, eyes that could cut steel. “My job is to be all up in your ass, remember? You’re a brand, Nate. A billion-dollar one. I keep you out of trouble,
CAMILLAThe wedding preparations were in full swing, and somehow, I had thrown myself right into the middle of it. It started with simple errands, taking note of vendors, setting appointment dates, and adjusting Seraphina’s schedule around Council meetings. But it had quickly turned into choosing
CAMILLA I didn’t want to be the one to show Seraphina around. I had hoped someone else on the council would step up, maybe Kage or Hayden, but the moment Alpha Rhysand’s name was mentioned in connection with her, all eyes turned to me. Because of course, who better than the Beta he used to fuck?
RHYSANDI remember the scent of their fear, a metallic tang that mingled with the damp earth and the coppery smell of blood. Not my blood, not yet. The rogues. I’d caught them, a handful of pathetic stragglers who’d thought themselves clever enough to ambush Seraphina then hurt my Camila. The r
CAMILLA The skull splitting pain in my head woke me up.A dull, burning ache pulsed in my side, making it hard to breathe, like someone had tied barbed wire around my ribs. My eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the warm glow of the infirmary. The scent of herbs, antiseptic, and something sw







