LOGINAs an orphan, Cathwulf was nothing peculiar amongst her pack. Raised by the lonely female wolf of the pack, she was deemed to be a good girl and of course, a virgin. As she turned 18, the dominant billionaire CEO of the local fur company, who was also her boss, began pursuing her and the man was simply too hot and charming to ignore. The day she had her first shift, it was revealed she was more than anyone had expected and the alpha of her pack decided to auction her off. As she took a step into the stage, it began her troublesome life between the enigmatic man who bought her who was the billionaire who was keen on making her his and the mate she did not expect Will she be able to make up her mind and choose the man she truly wants ? Or will destiny be the one to choose for her ?
View More*Therian* The city blurs around me as I sprint through the streets, my heart pounding with urgency. Each breath burns in my chest, but it’s nothing compared to the ache gnawing at my soul. Cathwulf. Just the thought of her name sends a jolt of longing through me, a visceral reminder of what I had and what I let slip through my fingers. I shouldn’t have pushed her away. I should have fought harder, should have claimed her as mine in front of the world instead of retreating into my own insecurities. But it’s too late for regrets now. The moment I realized she was gone, something inside me snapped. I veer around a corner, dodging pedestrians, my instincts heightened. The scent of her clings to my memory, a blend of cinnamon and something uniquely her… a scent I can’t seem to escape, no matter how fast I run. I can’t let her slip away again. I won’t. With every stride, I push myself harder, fueled by a mix of desperation and determination. The diner is just ahead, its old neon sign
*Cathwulf* The morning light seeps through the cracks in the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. I stir, the remnants of a restless sleep clinging to me like cobwebs. My body protests as I push myself up, a dull ache settling in my muscles… a reminder of yesterday’s emotional upheaval. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet brushing against the cool floor. A weary sigh escapes my lips as I shuffle to the kitchen, my stomach growling like a feral beast demanding sustenance. Cooking has always been my solace, a way to reclaim a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. I rummage through the sparse cupboards until I find a couple of eggs, some stale bread, and a half-open jar of jam. It’s not much, but it’ll do. As I crack the eggs into the sizzling pan, the sound of them hitting the hot surface is satisfying, a small victory in the grand scheme of things. I flip the toast, the golden-brown perfection a brief source of comfort. The aroma drifts through the apar
*Catwulf* The tension in the room is palpable, and I can feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. I glance between Mr. Eviil and the werewolf, whom I have not cared to ask the name of, each representing a path I’m terrified to tread. I’m exhausted, caught in a storm of emotions… fear, anger, confusion… and deep down, there’s a gnawing sense of despair. I don’t have the energy to run from this. I’m tired of fighting for my freedom only to be faced with yet another choice that could lead me back into darkness… I know they will just find me again. “I can’t keep running,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but it echoes in the silence that follows. “I don’t have the strength to start over with nothing.” Both men seem to sense my surrender, their postures shifting ever so slightly, like predators sensing a moment of weakness in their prey. I draw a deep breath, filling my lungs with the stale air of the apartment, and find that, despite everything, I still have a
*Catwulf* I freeze, caught in a web of tension as my old boss, Mr. Torn Eviil, barges into the room. His presence is commanding, a stark contrast to the predatory calm of the man from the diner. I can hardly process the situation as he strides forward, his eyes flicking between me and the stranger who has invaded my sanctuary. “Let her go,” Mr. Eviil demands, his voice low and dangerous. The authority in his tone sends a jolt of unease rippling through the air. The man from the diner releases my arm, but his gaze remains locked on Mr. Eviil, sizing him up. “You don’t understand,” he says, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “She needs to come with me. Therian, her mate, is looking for her.” I’m still reeling from the shock of my old boss’s sudden appearance and the chaotic emotions swirling inside me. Therian… the name feels like a knife twisting in my gut. I don’t want to think about him, about our past, about the bond that seems to tug at my very essence… but I am al






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