The forced curvy mate

“Yes. Marry me.”His voice was calm, almost conversational, as if he were discussing the weather rather than upending what remained of my life.“You do know you’re a werewolf, don’t you? Staying alone without a pack is dangerous—far more harmful than you realize. With me, you’ll have a pack that protects you. They’ll teach you our ways. And when the year is over and the divorce is final, you’ll be free to go… provided you’ve given me what I asked for.”The words hit me like a physical blow.“I’m not a monster like—”The sentence died in my throat. I couldn’t finish it.“Like what?” He stepped closer again. “Like me?”I swallowed hard as his face came within inches of mine. The air between us felt charged, heavy with old fear and something darker.A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You saw your father change, didn’t you? You’ll change too. Then we’ll see whether you’re still so certain you’re not a monster… just like me.”Something inside me snapped.“I am never going to

Eleanor… Eleanor…A soft voice kept calling my name as I found myself running through a dense forest. Branches whipped past my face. The ground was uneven beneath my bare feet. I didn’t know what I was running from—only that something deep inside me urged me to keep moving.“Stop running from yourself, Eleanor.”I spun in a circle, heart slamming against my ribs. “Who’s there? Who are you?” My voice came out raw and broken. I turned again, searching the darkness between the trees, but nothing moved. Only the wind answered, carrying the distant howl of something I couldn’t name.“It’s me. Miya. Your wolf.”I froze. “What? What do you mean, my wolf? I don’t understand.”“You know deep inside that we are bound together as one.”The words settled deep into my bones, as though they had been waiting there all along.I shook my head, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. “What… bound together? Then how is this the first time you’ve ever spoken to me? Why now?”“Because I have been hidd

I shot up from the water, gasping for air as I clutched my throat. I had almost choked myself. What had I been thinking, staying underwater for so long?Even as I coughed and dragged precious air into my lungs, Miya’s voice echoed in my mind. It had been clearer this time—more insistent, more persistent than before.Awaken me.But how? I wondered.I stepped carefully out of the tub. A stack of thick, snow-white towels had been arranged on a low marble shelf beside the bath, each one perfectly folded and lightly scented with the same lavender as the soaps. I took one and dried my body, then wrapped it securely around my waist. With a second towel I squeezed the water from my hair as I walked back into the bedroom.The wardrobe doors opened smoothly. Inside, everything was neat and deliberate. Beautiful sundresses hung on individual hangers, spaced evenly so the fabrics wouldn’t crease. Soft jeans and simple tops in my exact size were folded on the shelves. Even the underwear drawers we

“Oh my God… oh my God… ” The words came out in a shaky breath as I shut off the water. I dried myself quickly, fingers trembling, and wrapped the towel around my thick body as tightly as it would go. Steam still clung to my skin when I stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I had barely taken two steps into the middle of the room when the door flew open with a violent push. Lucian strode in as if the space already belonged to him, face carved tight with something that looked like worry—or possession. The door slammed shut behind him with a final, deliberate click. “Ahh… Oh my goodness—what are you doing here?” The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.“Quit screaming.” His voice was low and controlled, but irritation edged every word. “What is wrong with you?”I clutched the towel tighter with both hands, my knuckles turning white. When the fabric slipped slightly, I immediately yanked it back into place, my heart pounding violently against my ribs.“Wh

Eventually, I pushed myself from the bed. The sheets whispered against my bare thighs as I crossed the room on quiet feet. The room felt still and close, the darkness broken only by a pale shaft of moonlight spilling through the tall arched window near the far side of the room. It stretched across the floor, reaching all the way to the full-length mirror and illuminating its edges in silver.I stopped in front of the mirror and simply looked at myself.My reflection stared back—pale skin, sleep-tousled hair, the thin black lingerie that clung to every soft curve. I searched my own face as if the answer might be written there. What did Lucian want with me? Was I really that beautiful? I wasn't even sexy, yet there was something between us—a strange bond and connection I couldn't explain. Every time he was close to me in a certain way, I could feel it.And now, I had dreamed about him again.It was awkward enough that my dreams kept pulling me toward him. Worse was the fact that some