Diana When I wake up the next morning, as I blink away the remnants of sleep, a splash of color catches my eye. There, on my bedside table, sits a delicate lilac-colored flower, its petals still dewy with morning freshness. A smile tugs at my lips as I reach out to pluck the blossom from its resting place. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale deeply, savoring its sweet, subtle fragrance. The thought of him leaving this tender token of his affection, fills me with a warmth that spreads from my chest to the very tips of my fingers and toes. Rising from my bed, I pad over to where the flower vase stands proudly and add this morning's flower to the bouquet, marveling at how they've gradually transformed into a lush, fragrant display. As I gaze at the flowers, my mind drifts to the day ahead. Excitement bubbles up within me at the thought of spending time with Claudia. It's a novel feeling, this anticipation of a day filled with feminine camaraderie and new experiences. A knock at my doo
Diana I stand frozen, staring at the impressive facade of Claudia's home, my mind struggling to reconcile this grand house with my bubbly, down-to-earth friend who works alongside me at the diner. The question, ‘If you're rich, why are you working at the diner?’ almost tumbles out but I quickly stop it. What if just like I told Dominicus, she’s working because she enjoys it? The question is an instinctive reaction to what I’m used to. Back at the pack, you would never find high ranking wolves doing such menial jobs. It was beneath them. However, I remind myself that this is not my Pack. And Claudia is not an stuck up, arrogant higher ranking wolf. Claudia's usual effervescent demeanor falters for a moment. She looks away, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features before she meets my gaze again. "I'm not rich," she says, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. "My parents are." The weight in her tone tells me there's more to the story, but I can sense her reluctance to discuss
Diana As I step into the walk-in closet, my breath catches in my throat. The space before me is nothing short of magnificent, a room that could easily grace the pages of a high-end fashion magazine. The closet stretches out, seemingly endless, divided neatly into two sections - his and hers. My eyes roam over the rows of designer clothes, each piece more beautiful than the last. Silk blouses, tailored suits, flowing dresses in every color imaginable. The shoe collection alone is enough to make my head spin - elegant heels, comfortable flats, and sturdy boots, all arranged in perfect order. In the center of the room stands an island, its surface gleaming under the soft lighting. As I approach, I realize it's filled with jewelry - delicate necklaces, sparkling earrings, and watches that probably cost more than I've ever earned in my life. I pace slowly by the cabinets, my fingers trailing lightly over the fabric of the clothes. The textures are rich and varied - soft cashmere, crisp
Diana The drive to Deming is filled with a nervous excitement that bubbles in my chest. As we leave the familiar streets of Garnet City behind, I watch the landscape change through the car window. Deming, though only an hour away, feels like a different world entirely. Just like Garnet City, Deming is equally a purely human town. However, that’s where the similarities end. Where Garnet City is quaint and nestled in nature, Deming pulses with urban energy. Tall buildings reach for the sky, their glass facades reflecting the afternoon sun. The streets are busier, filled with a diverse mix of people hurrying about their day. As we navigate through the bustling streets, I can't help but marvel at the sights and sounds around us. Probably because of the college, there are a lot of students with backpacks slung over their shoulders hurry along the sidewalks, while suited professionals weave between them. Before long, we're pulling into the parking lot of Deming Community College. The ca
Diana "Let's go check out the campus. After all, you'll be spending quite a bit of time here. We should make sure you like the ambiance." I nod, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation swirling in my stomach. As we set off to explore the grounds, I can't help but feel a sense of wonder. Just this morning, returning to school had been a distant dream. Now, here I am, about to tour a college campus - possibly my college campus. The campus of Deming Community College unfolds before us like a miniature city. Dominicus and I stroll hand in hand, taking in the sights and sounds of academic life. The main quad bustles with activity - students lounging on the grass, buried in books or engaged in animated conversations. We pass by the library, an imposing brick building with wide steps leading to its entrance. Through the large windows, I catch glimpses of students hunched over computers or browsing towering shelves of books. The sight fills me with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
Beta Marcus The harsh buzz of my phone cuts through the silence of my office. I still when I notice the number. It's the rogue I'd contacted earlier, the one I'd tasked with getting the bitch from Garnet City but had refused. What the fuck does he want? I snatch it up, "Speak," I command, my voice tight with barely contained anger. "Good news," the man on the other end says, his voice languid. "The girl was spotted just outside Deming. One of our boys saw her, but... she wasn't alone." My grip on the phone tightens. "Go on." "She was with a strong wolf. Couldn't make out who it was, but they seemed... close. They got into a car together." I feel a growl building in my chest but force it down. "And?" "I've got a contact in traffic control. Used the street cameras to track the car. It drove straight into Garnet City." A savage grin spreads across my face. Finally, a solid lead. I can almost taste her fear, hear her pleas for mercy. But the rogue isn't finished. "Look, Marcus,
Beta Marcus As my eyes adjust to the dim light, a sense of twisted satisfaction washes over me. The bastard who had been a thorn in my side for so long, who dared to challenge my authority, again and again, now hangs before me, broken and defeated. The man is suspended from the ceiling, heavy chains made of silver shackling his wrists before piercing through them. The silver in his bloodstream stopping his shift. The restraints hold him just high enough that his toes barely brush the cold concrete floor, denying him even the small mercy of standing to relieve the tension in his arms. His face is a mess of dried blood and swollen flesh, his eyes forced shut by the bruising. Fresh scars crisscross his bare torso, a testament to the brutality he's endured. He seems to be unconscious, unaware of my presence as I enter his personal hell. I take my time, savoring the moment as I leisurely stroll to the side of the room where a tray of instruments awaits. My fingers brush over them gen
Beta Marcus In one corner, a group huddles around a table, exchanging money for small packets of powder. Nearby, a woman with hollow eyes and track marks on her arms performs a listless dance for leering onlookers. The bar is crowded with men and women drowning their sorrows in cheap alcohol, their faces etched with the hard lines of difficult lives. Looking closer at the women scattered throughout the bar, I can see the telltale signs of abuse and exploitation. Their eyes are vacant, movements mechanical. Most, if not all, have likely been trafficked here against their will. Good. It means this place is run by exactly the kind of people I'm looking for. I approach the bar, shouldering past a pair of men engaged in a heated argument. The bartender, a burly man with a scarred face, eyes me warily as I lean against the sticky counter. "I'm looking for someone," I say, my voice low and purposeful. I drop a name, watching his reaction carefully. The bartender's eyes narrow. "No one b
Diana I spot Dom waiting just down the hall, his arms crossed, his sharp eyes flick up as soon as come out me. His face softens—just slightly—and he reaches out. I walk up to him and slip my hand into his. Eleanor falls into step behind us, quiet and peaceful, her presence a steady pulse at my back. Together, the three of us move toward the wide double doors at the end of the hall—the conference room where today’s meeting is about to hold. The air feels thicker here, heavy with the scent of too many wolves, sharp anticipation, and something almost metallic — the bracing edge of challenge, perhaps, or simply the weight of so many packs gathered under one roof. As we near, an Amadeus warrior steps forward. Clyde. He bows smoothly. “Alpha. Luna.” He gives Eleanor a polite nod. “Ma’am.” Dom gives him a curt nod in return, but I offer Clyde a small smile. Eleanor answers warmly, “Hello dear.” Clyde straightens and says, “The packs have brought a fair number of warriors w
DianaI blink, brow arching. Magnus almost mated to someone? That’s news to me.Can’t find it in me to care.The first girl nods eagerly. “Exactly! And it was super suspicious. It was supposed to be this huge deal — even our Alpha was invited — but just a week before the ceremony, it was called off.” She waves her hands for emphasis; the others nod vigorously.She leans in, voice dropping. “I heard Natasha left Zervos and went back to the Silvanus pack, then mated with an Omega from Plena Luna.”Another round of wide eyes and startled gasps.“It’s obvious why the ceremony was canceled,” she smirks. “Natasha met her real mate. Everyone thought Magnus set the match because he hadn’t found his mate yet… but he had. And he rejected her!”The gasps turn into soft curses. I catch words like scum and bastard tossed out under their breath, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.The third girl eagerly nudges the first. “And? And?! What else?”The first girl glances around, then leans
DianaWhat were they thinking?A low voice, warm and smug, ghosts by my ear.“See?” Dominicus says. “I won.”I don’t turn. I can feel the smirk behind his voice and the presence of him just a breath away.I shake my head slowly, incredulous. “They actually came…”“And with a whole damn parade,” he says with a huff of amusement.“Pompousness and posturing,” I mutter.He chuckles. “That’s what you bet against, dulcis.”I scowl, still watching the arrivals, still baffled by the absurdity of it all.“And now,” he says, voice low as he leans down slightly, “you owe me.”I start to ask what the terms were again, but then I feel his lips brush the shell of my ear, and his whispered words burn hotter than sunlight across my skin.My breath catches. My entire body flushes.Damn him.Dom steps back and with a sweeping motion of his arm, the corners of his mouth quirking upward, he says, “Ladies, shall we?”I pull my gaze away from the window, and roll my eyes at him. “Lets.”Behind me, Eleanor
Diana “You’re on speaker, Alpha. They can all hear you now.” Dominicus doesn’t waste a breath. “Good,” he says, his tone flat, cold. “Then listen closely because this-“ he pauses, just long enough to make the weight of his next words settle into their bones, “—is the key to a ‘peaceful retirement’ for all of you.” There’s no trace of politeness. No deference. Only the weight of his authority, sharp as steel. The line is silent. No one dares interrupt. “Of the thirty-seven packs–,” he continues, “you each used to run one of the major nine.” Ten now - The Amadeus pack is back, I muse. “The rest of the smaller — scattered, less resourced packs are no less important. Therefore you are not only to go back to your own packs. You will each take responsibility for informing the Alphas of the minor packs in your regions. I don’t care how you do. Just get it done.” He paces a little, jaw tight. “You will tell them witches exist. You will tell them that dark witches have returned — tha
Diana Billy takes a step forward and wraps me in his warm bear hug. I bury my face in his chest and hug him just as tight. He steps back, “See you in a bit, kid”, and with a little wave, turns around and strides back towards the cars. I watch as they begin to pile into the SUVs, Billy among them. He gives me one last wink, grinning crookedly before ducking into the lead car. The low growl of the engines rises as the vehicles roll down the driveway, kicking up small clouds of dust and mist in their wake. I watch until the last taillight vanishes into the mist. A warm arm curls around my shoulders, anchoring me to the earth. Dominicus presses a kiss to my temple, his voice a soft murmur against my hair. “Don’t worry, dulcis. They’ll be fine. And they’ll bring her back safely.” I close my eyes for a moment, breathing him in, clinging to the hope stitched into his words. I hope so. For Billy’s sake. For Emerald’s sake. For all of us…We don’t go inside right away.
Diana “Wake me up early?” I mumble, already half-drifting again. “I wanna see Billy off in the morning.” “I will,” he promises, kissing the top of my head. Silence falls between us, soft and fragile. I’m just on the edge of sleep when his voice comes again, low and rough and achingly sincere. “Dulcis…” I hum in acknowledgment, too tired to form a real word. “The reason I’m not stopping you from fighting this war… isn’t because I care about you any less. I hope you know that. Right?” Something in his tone — the raw inflection, the brittle edge — tugs at me, pulling me back to him. I blink my eyes open and tilt my head up to look at him. In the muted light, his face is shadowed, but I can see it — the tightness around his mouth, the faint crease between his brows. And in his eyes — gods — there’s worry. Guilt. And buried much deeper, a sliver of fear so raw it makes my heart ache. I know what he’s thinking - what is weighing on him. It’s Billy’s words, thro
Diana Dominicus gently kisses my tears away before gathering me up into his arms as he gets off the bed. “Let’s get you clean and ready for bed”, he says and I hum in reply. I nestle against him, feeling the steady thrum of his heart under my cheek as he carries me across the room. I murmur sleepily, “Don’t get my hair wet. I wanna enjoy my silk press a little longer…” My voice is soft, half-drowsy. He halts mid-step and looks down at me. Them he chuckles, low and warm, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Of course, dulcis,” he says, amused. When we get to the bathroom, he sets me down on the counter and finds the shower cap tucked into a drawer. I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes as he approaches, his expression utterly tender. With careful hands, he gathers my hair — cradling it like something precious — and slips the cap over my head. His fingers linger against my scalp for a moment, tracing the shape of it, before he presses a kiss to my forehead. “There
Diana I arch against him instinctively, a broken sound escaping my lips. Dominicus buries his face in the crook of my neck, groaning low and deep, his breath hot against my skin. “Mine,” he whispers against my throat, his voice hoarse, almost desperate. “Always mine, dulcis.” I cling to him, nails digging into his back, overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of it — the way we fit, the way our bodies and hearts and souls seem to lock together in a way that feels eternal. He begins to move, slow at first, each thrust deliberate, worshipful. I match him, needing him, needing this — this fusion, with an intensity that shakes my very soul. Dominicus moves inside me, deeper, harder, each thrust stealing the breath from my lungs. I cling to him, lost, trembling, my nails digging into his shoulders, needing more, needing everything. His name falls from my lips again and again, a broken, worshipful prayer. The heat coils low in my belly, winding tighter and tighter, until I’m
Content Warning: This chapter contains intimate R-18 scenesDiana His heavy-lidded eyes, so dark it sends a shiver down my spine have something within them other than just lust: It’s love. It’s trust. It’s need. But somehow, it still doesn’t feel like enough. Not yet. I want to give him everything. I want to make him feel even a fraction of what he’s made me feel today. What he makes me feel all the time. My cheeks flush as the idea takes root — daring, impulsive, raw — but I don’t hesitate. I trail kisses down his chest, my hands smoothing over his ribs, his waist, lower still. When he realizes what I intend, he catches my wrist gently. “Dulcis,” he says, his voice rough, wrecked. “I want to,” I whisper fiercely. “Please, Dom. Let me.” For a moment, he just looks at me. Then he nods once, slowly, his throat bobbing as he swallows. I look down at his member. A whimper escapes me as the ache between my legs intensifies. It’s so big- steel wrapped in s