LOGINGabriel Thorne was seventeen when he met his fated mate across a burning packhouse during a sanctioned werewolf purge. The moment their eyes locked, the mate bond snapped into place with devastating clarity. Dominic Ashford, the youngest billionaire Alpha in North America, rejected him instantly and publicly, shattering Gabriel's world with five brutal words: "I don't have a mate." Five years later, Gabriel has been cast out from the Holy Order, disowned by his exorcist family, and is barely surviving as a paranormal investigator when catastrophe strikes. His father is dying from a curse that can only be broken by Alpha blood willingly given. Gabriel must return to the pack territory he was exiled from and beg the mate who destroyed him for help. Dominic agrees, but his price is cruel: a thirty-day contract where Gabriel lives in his penthouse, attends pack functions as his companion, and submits to experimental mate bond suppression therapy designed to erase their connection forever. Gabriel accepts because he has no choice. Dominic believes proximity will kill the bond. Instead, it ignites into an inferno neither can control. As they're forced together, dangerous truths emerge. The curse killing Gabriel's father wasn't random, it was orchestrated. Someone inside the Holy Order is funding a conspiracy to restart the werewolf purges, and the scandalous mate bond between an exorcist heir and an Alpha is the spark that could ignite a supernatural war. Now Gabriel and Dominic must choose: break their bond to preserve the fragile peace, or claim each other and risk destroying everything their worlds have built. Their love could save both species, Or it could damn them all.
View MoreDominic moved through the crowd with practiced ease, stopping to speak with pack representatives and business associates as though nothing had happened in that quiet corridor, as though he had not just pinned Gabriel against a wall and scented him like something he owned.Gabriel smiled when expected, shook hands when introduced, and spent the remainder of the evening hyperaware of Dominic's hand on his lower back, burning through the expensive fabric of the tailored suit like a brand.They did not speak in the car on the way home, or even in the elevator. When the penthouse doors opened and Dominic disappeared into his study without a backward glance, Gabriel went to his room, sat on the edge of his bed, and stared at the city lights spread below the window until his heartbeat finally returned to something resembling normal.He barely slept.Dr. Helena Vance's office occupied a corner of the fifty-eighth floor of Ashford Tower, its walls lined with bookshelves holding texts that rang
The tailored suit arrived at precisely nine in the morning, delivered by a service that handled the garment like it contained the crown jewels. Gabriel stared at the midnight blue fabric, at the way the light caught subtle patterns woven into the material, and knew without checking the label that it cost more than he had earned in the past six months combined.It fit perfectly. Of course it did. Dominic would have ensured that every measurement was exact, that Gabriel would have no excuse to appear as anything less than what an Alpha's companion should be. Gabriel stood before the full-length mirror in his assigned room and barely recognized himself. The suit transformed him from the shabby exile he had become into someone who looked like they might actually belong in Dominic Ashford's world.The illusion was almost convincing enough to believe.Ethan collected him at six o'clock, his professional mask firmly in place as he looked Gabriel over with critical eyes. "You'll do," he said,
The private elevator opened directly into Dominic's penthouse, and Gabriel stepped into a space that looked more like an architectural magazine spread than a place where anyone actually lived. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around three sides of the massive open-plan living area, offering a panoramic view of Seattle that made the city look like a glittering toy seventy-three floors below.Everything was minimalist luxury executed with ruthless precision. White marble floors stretched in every direction, broken only by strategically placed rugs that probably cost more than Gabriel's entire year of rent. The furniture was all clean lines and expensive materials, arranged with careful composition that suggested an interior designer rather than personal taste.The space felt cold despite the warm afternoon light. It was more like a showroom than somewhere a person might actually live. Gabriel supposed that was the point. Dominic Ashford did not do comfort. He did control, power and care
Ashford Tower rose from downtown Seattle like a monument to werewolf ambition, seventy-three floors of glass and steel that reflected the gray morning sky. Gabriel stood across the street, watching expensive cars pull up while uniformed valets opened doors for people who radiated wealth and confidence.He wore the same worn jacket from the night before, jeans patched twice at the knees, boots that had seen better years. His reflection in a shop window showed exactly what he was: someone surviving on the margins, scraping by on investigation jobs that barely covered rent.Gabriel forced himself to cross the street. The lobby was all marble floors and abstract sculptures that probably cost more than he would earn in his lifetime. The security desk sat dead center, manned by three guards who radiated supernatural alertness."I need to see Dominic Ashford," Gabriel said, keeping his voice steady. "My name is Gabriel Thorne."The lead guard's nostrils flared, scenting him. Her expression s
The memory hit Gabriel like a physical blow the moment he stepped into his father's bedroom, the smell of smoke and burning wood suddenly overwhelming despite the sterile scent of sickness that permeated the actual room.Five years ago. The Riverside Pack purge. Gabriel had been seventeen and still
The phone rang at midnight, the way bad news always did.Gabriel Thorne stared at the unknown number glowing on his cracked screen, his heart already sinking before he answered. He had learned to recognize the particular quality of silence that preceded disaster, the way the air seemed to thicken w






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