MasukThe anger simmers between us like a live wire. I know I need to be patient, but patience is a hard muscle to flex when every instinct screams at me to push, demand, or force answers. I glance up the staircase at her door. It looks so ordinary, but it represents everything I can’t reach. Everything
Dominic I stare at Ellie’s door, the soft light spilling from the hallway catching the edge of the wood grain. My mother’s words repeat in my mind: Be a good husband. I want to be one, I really do. The problem is that I have no idea how to actually do it. My whole life, I was raised to be a st
Third Person Dominic’s mother sits on the edge of the living room sofa, fingers lightly steepled, eyes scanning the hallway with focus. Dominic’s father reclines in the armchair across from her, arms crossed over his chest, watching the quiet house with a careful patience born of decades managing
“That you’d mark me without my consent,” she looks away, jaw tight. The words hit me like a blow. My wolf growls beneath my skin, instinctively rejecting the accusation, but I don’t let it show. I step closer instead, lowering my voice so only she can hear. “You accepted the mark.” “Because I
Dominic When Ellie doesn’t pick up my call, something inside me snaps. She always does this. She ignores me, pushes me to the edge, like she’s testing how far I’ll go before I lose my temper. I stare down at the phone, her name flashing across the missed call screen, the mark on my neck faintly
Ellie The library feels like stepping into another time. The air hums faintly with old magic, the kind that clings to the bindings of centuries-old texts and whispers between the shelves. The walls are lined from floor to ceiling with books — thick tomes, handwritten scrolls, and old records that







