"What if I just fuck it all and run?" I whisper to no one in particular.The thought's been brewing for days now, like a storm rolling in slow and steady behind my ribs. Even though Lior has tried to convince me to stay, I can't help but feel like it's a little selfish if him to request that of me when he's not going through the half of what I'm going through.What's the need to stay here if I'm only going to be walked on? Coming to think of it, I had a pretty good start here. I had friends and no one was whispering about me until I turned eighteen.The damn golden year in werewolf society.Fucks up your life more than it makes it, do you know?Now everyone whispers, they stare and there's the ache of being treated like everything that has led me to this point is all my fucking fault—it's all too much. I find myself brushing my hands against the banister of the east wing staircase, staring off toward the forest through the window, imagining what it might feel like to disappear into
I knock once on Lior’s door before pushing it open, my arms full of pack reports and territory updates. The room smells like leather and fresh parchment, a comforting mix I’ve come to associate with him. He’s seated at his desk, but the moment I step in, he straightens like he’s been waiting on edge all day.“There she is,” he says, grinning in that charming, boyish way of his that makes my stomach flutter against my will. “I thought you’d never come.”I feel my heart leap into my throat. We haven't seen each other for almost a week, I think. Since the day at the cabin on the mountains.Since the kiss.It means that I've had time to unravel and put myself together...for the most part.I laugh softly. “You literally asked me to come ten minutes ago.”“Ten very long minutes,” he murmurs, standing to take the papers from me. His fingers graze mine—too gentle to be accidental, too subtle to comment on. "It's a crime to keep your Beta waiting, you know."I chuckle, but say nothing.We se
I wake up to the feeling of fingers brushing softly across my cheek—like a whisper made of skin. My lashes flutter open, and there he is. Lior, propped up on one elbow, that lazy morning smile pulling at his lips. His touch is feather-light, like he’s memorizing the shape of me in sunlight. “Morning, moonbeam,” he says, voice all husky and smooth from sleep. "Are you going to give me nicknames every single day?" I giggle. "Well, there are too many words to use to describe you, and gods forbid I stick to one." I smile, that kind of smile that comes easy when you're feeling content in the moment. I stretch under the covers, the movement stirring a dull ache between my thighs. My face heats immediately as I remember why I ache and how many times we went at it. "I didn't think we'd have the stamina to keep up," Kira purrs. "But I think we might have gotten ourselves a monster in bed." I want to smack her, but of course, it's impossible. So I block her out temporarily before sh
"What did you expect to find? Tamsin cleaning his shoes?" Cyan barks in my head as I'm still struggling to grasp the sight in front of me.I've been trailing them for a couple minutes now, wondering where Lior was taking her when he seductively pulled her away from the kitchens.Cyan had already told me the outcome of the chase from the very moment they began heading down the halls and taking paths that lead to the utility level."They're going to catch a few orgasms," he'd said. But I wanted to give it a benefit if doubt.You know, you can't conclude until you see it for sure.Well, now I see them.Down the hallway near the south wing—where the light always falls like molten gold across the walls—there they are. Tamsin and Lior, tucked into the shadows like they belong there. Like they’ve been carved into that space together, warm and easy and intimate.Lior's head dips, his lips brushing against hers. Soft and slow. Her hand curls around his wrist, fingers light, affectionate. She
Is this a honeymoon?No. It feels like one, but don't worry just yet. It's not.It's more like...a little vacation, I'll call it.Lior and I decided to spend a little time up on the mountains in his fancy cottage. You know, to get more accustomed to each other.So far, it's been leaving me sore and weak on the knees.The scent of pine fills the air as I step outside, the cool morning biting at my cheeks, soft and crisp like the edge of a snowflake. It's colder up here. Even when we're transitioning from spring to summer, it's still cold up here.Lior’s already outside, sleeves rolled up, splitting logs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. His hair’s a little messy, jaw dusted with stubble, and there’s a grin tugging at his lips when he notices me standing by the door in his oversized sweater and mismatched socks.“You planning to freeze out here?” he calls out, tossing another log onto the pile with a clean thud.“I’m supervising,” I reply, hugging myself. “It’s an important jo
Lior’s lips are soft against mine. There’s nothing urgent about the way he kisses me—no rush, no heat demanding more. Just warmth. Gentle and slow, like the way moonlight creeps across the porch. His fingers trace the side of my jaw, tilting my face just enough so he can deepen the kiss.And I let him.The world feels quieter when we’re like this. When my thoughts don’t get loud, when my chest doesn’t ache with things I don’t understand. Out here, under the stars, with Lior’s breath warm against my mouth, I forget the past. Just a little. Just long enough.He pulls back slightly and brushes his thumb over my cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful, Tamsin,” he whispers, voice hoarse.I smile, soft and shy. “You say that like I don’t believe it.”“Because you don’t,” he says, and then kisses me again before I can argue.Eventually, the cold sneaks under my sweater, and Lior leads me back inside with a hand at the small of my back. We don’t bother with clothes. The bed is warm, and his body
The mountain air bites, a raw, cold kiss against my fur, but it does little to cool the fire churning inside me. Down there, nestled in the small clearing, Lior’s cabinglows with a soft, deceptive warmth. And on the porch, bathed in that golden light, stands her. Tamsin.Even from this distance, I feel the familiar tug, that invisible cord stretched taut between us. My silver gaze locks with hers. It’s uncanny, this connection. Like she has eyes in the back of her head, or maybe it’s just… us. She knows I’m here. Always. There’s a stillness in her posture, a quiet acceptance in the way she meets my stare, gold to silver. Neither of us moves, caught in this silent, invisible thread.But the air around her… it’s thick with Lior's.His scent, that familiar blend of leather and something inherently… comforting, clings to her. It’s woven into the strands of her hair, a subtle undertone beneath the crisp night air. It’s soaked into the sweater she’s pulled around herself. Every inhale
My stomach does a nervous little flip as I smooth down the fabric of the dress Lior picked out for me. It’s a deep forest green, the color making my golden eyes seem even brighter, or so Lior tells me. The harvest celebration is in full swing outside, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats, sweet cider, and the earthy aroma of the season. Laughter drifts in through the open windows of Lior's room in the pack house, a boisterous wave that makes me want to burrow deeper under the covers.“Come on, little star,” he had said earlier, his voice a warm rumble that always manages to soothe my frayed nerves. “Everyone wants to celebrate with you.” His hand, calloused but gentle, had cupped my cheek, his green eyes full of an affection that still feels a little too bright, a little too intense sometimes. He insists I belong out there, amongst the pack, that I shouldn’t let Nox’s… well, everything… keep me hidden away.So here I am, taking a deep breath and stepping out into the coo
I’m walking towards the market, the familiar path through the woods a comforting routine. Lior is still at the pack house, dealing with whatever Beta duties remain even with Nox… well, with Nox being Nox. He’s meeting me at the cabin later, and I’m picking up a few things we need – some fresh herbs, maybe some berries if they look good. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, but beneath it, I catch snippets of hushed conversations as pack members pass by.“Did you hear?” a lady is saying, her voice tight with a kind of nervous excitement.“The council… they actually did it,” another replies, in a low and sad tone.I incline my head left towards the voices, to try to catch more of what they're saying.“Temporary, they say…” one of the farm boys I recognise as Lenny says, with his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear.Curiosity prickles at me. Their voices are low, almost conspiratorial. Then I hear it clearly, a phrase that stops me in my tracks. “…unseate
I stumble back into the pack house, the scent of damp earth and pine clinging to my fur. Another reckless run. Another night spent trying to outpace the relentless gnawing in my gut. It never works. Cyan is a restless beast within me, mirroring my own fractured state. "Another stellar display of Alpha leadership," he snarls, the sarcasm dripping.Just as I’m about to retreat to my room, hoping for a few hours of oblivion, Gareth, one of the enforcers, blocks my path. His face is grim, his usual jovial demeanor absent.“Alpha,” he says, his voice low and serious. “You’re needed in the council hall. It’s urgent.”“Can’t it wait?” I grumble, the thought of facing anyone right now making my skin crawl.“No, Alpha. Your mother specifically requested your presence. She said it can’t wait another moment.”My mother. That cold woman who seems to always be disappointed in me no matter what I do."Well, if I were her, wouldn't I be?" Cyan laughs dryly. If she’s summoning me, it’s likely no
I wake to the familiar warmth of Lior’s arms around me, the soft scent of him clinging to the sheets. The morning light filtering through his window in the pack house is gentle, painting the room in pale gold. He’s still asleep, his breathing even and quiet against my hair. It should feel perfect, this closeness, this intimacy. And in a way, it does. He’s here, he’s real, he’s chosen me.But a knot of unease tightens in my chest, a familiar unwelcome guest. Guilt. It’s been my constant companion since… since I slammed the door in Nox’s face. The memory of his expression haunts me – that raw, almost desperate look in his hazel eyes. He’d looked… broken."Idiot," Kira mutters in the back of my mind, her tone sharper than usual. "You didn’t even let him speak. Maybe his words were just what we needed to connect some dots."Why didn’t I? What was I so afraid of hearing? Was it fear of the truth, whatever that might be? Or was it a stubborn refusal to let anything tarnish the fragile
The woods only offer a temporary escape, a place where Cyan runs until his lungs burn and his muscles scream, a desperate attempt to outrun the gnawing emptiness inside me. But the quiet fury that propels me through the trees eventually gives way to a bone-deep exhaustion, and I am forced to return to the suffocating reality of the pack house.Zara is waiting. Of course she is. I've been gone for about a day, approximately, which is not my nature, so if course she'll be waiting.Her face, usually so composed, is etched with worry, her eyes red-rimmed like she'd been crying.As I step through the door, the scent of her anxiety thick in the air, she rushes towards me, her arms outstretched. Instinctively, I flinch, a raw, visceral reaction I can’t control. I shove her away, not hard, but enough to make her stumble back, a hurt gasp escaping her lips.“Nox!” Her voice is a choked whisper, her eyes wide with a confusion that mirrors my own internal chaos. “What in the moon’s name…?”“Ju
The crisp morning air carries the usual scents of the pack house – pine, damp earth, the faint aroma of breakfast still lingering. But then it hits me, a delicate sweetness that makes my senses sharpen. Strawberries. Tamsin. But… different. Cleaner. The sharp undercurrent of dish soap, the tell-tale sign of her usual omega chores, is absent. It’s just the pure, sweet scent of her. My jaw tightens. She’s not doing her duties. Of course she's not. With her now status of the Beta's lover, I doubt he would let her resume omega chores.He’s coddling her.I take a few more steps and I catch his scent, woven into hers like intertwined vines. That familiar, comforting leather and something else, something possessive... arousal.They’re close. Too close.“Ignore it,” Cyan rumbles in the back of my mind, a low growl of impatience. "Council meeting, remember? The elders are waiting for their brilliant Alpha."But my feet have already changed direction, drawn by an invisible thread. The straw
If it were completely up to me, I'd stay in the mountain cabin for the rest of my confused and controversial life.But it's not up to me, is it? Lior is always needed down in town as Beta and he always loves that I'm close to him at all times.Weird, but I don't mind. If he's obsessed, then I'll happily let him be. My mind is still not clear from the series of thoughts I've been having about him, but I guess I can put that aside and just live and love in the moment.Besides, maybe I was just being paranoid. You know, once bitten twice shy.Back at the pack house, things feel… different. Lior has been incredibly attentive since our return from the cabin. He insists I shouldn’t be doing the usual omega chores anymore. “You’re with me now, little star,” he’d said, his arm possessively around my shoulders as he steered me away from the laundry piles. Instead, I find myself helping him with his Beta duties, mostly paperwork that seems endless and a little dull, but I don’t complain. It
The quiet of Lior’s cabin has settled around me like a soft blanket, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside. He left early this morning, a lingering kiss on my forehead and a set of keys pressed into my palm. “Stay as long as you need, little star,” he’d murmured, his green eyes filled with a concern that felt both genuine and… something else. Something I can’t quite decipher.Now, the sun climbs higher in the sky, casting long shadows that slowly shrink and then stretch again across the wooden floor. The silence amplifies the thoughts swirling in my head, a restless dance of emotions and uncertainties. My love for Lior… it’s there, a warm ember that flickers steadily. He’s been my anchor, my light in the confusing aftermath of Nox’s rejection. He’s shown me kindness, affection, a sense of belonging I desperately craved.But then there’s the ghost of Nox. A faint echo of a connection that was never truly explored, a bond severed before it could fully form. Yet, it neve
The training fields are mostly deserted this morning, the early light casting long shadows across the worn dirt. Perfect. I’ve been tracking Lior’s scent since he left his cabin, a bitter tang of pine and leather cloyingly sweet clinging to him. He’s over by the sparring dummies, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he lands a half-hearted kick. He knows I’m here. He always does.“Lior,” I call out, my voice low and tight as I step into the clearing. Cyan rumbles in the back of my mind, a low growl that mirrors the tension coiling in my gut. "About damn time."Lior turns, his smirk widening. “Alpha. Fancy meeting you here. Decided to finally get some training in?” His tone is light, almost cheerful, which only serves to fuel my simmering anger.“Don’t play coy with me,” I snarl, taking a step closer. “I know what you’re doing.”His eyebrows lift in mock surprise. “Oh? And what exactly am I doing, dear Alpha?”“You’re taking advantage of her,” I accuse, the words raw with jealousy.
Warmth. That’s the first thing I register. A comforting weight pressed against my back, an arm slung possessively around my waist. I’m nestled against Lior, his steady breathing a soft rhythm against my hair. His scent, familiar and comforting now, fills my senses. We’re back in his cabin, the familiar scent of pine and woodsmoke a stark contrast to the lingering aroma of the harvest celebration.My eyelids flutter open, the soft morning light filtering through the cabin window painting the room in gentle hues. I close them again, a wave of fuzzy memories washing over me. Last night… it’s a bit of a blur. Laughter, the warmth of cider, the dizzying swirl of the dance floor. I must have had a little too much to drink. My cheeks heat with a touch of embarrassment.Lior shifts behind me, his arm tightening. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep. He tries to nuzzle into the crook of my neck, a playful growl rumbling in his chest. “Come back to bed. It’s