Sarah As we step into the apartment, I glance from Nate to Eleanor and back, waiting for their explanation. “We are related – second cousins, I think,” Nate answers first, and Eleanor nods. “What?” I ask as my face scrunches up in disbelief as the thoughts this means storm my brain, rapidly increasing my heartbeat. Beth always told me that Eleanor doesn't know anything about werewolves. But she knows Nate. Was she lying? “My mother and Nate’s mother are cousins,” Eleanor clarifies, glancing from Nate to me from a crouching position in front of Abby. Words get stuck in my throat as I’m gaping for air. I turn around and step back to the corridor, closing the door behind me. What the hell? It can’t be a coincidence that I won a scholarship to the same school Eleanor attended. That means all my suspicions about the previous Alpha and Luna kicking me out of the pack could be true. They knew Eleanor’s mum. They are cousins. The clicking sound of the door interrupts my whirling thoug

Sarah Oh, shit, I hit him. Did I break his nose? I think his ego wouldn’t let me check him. As Nate leaves, the floor screeches under his black boots, clearly not made for gym practice. I finish stretching with the group and wave everyone goodbye. As usual, Manny walks in to help me put away the mattresses and equipment, companied by his flirty smile. Nate turned my life upside down in two days. I can’t even flirt. Manny touches me, and I shake his hand off. His face shows all the confusion and hurt he feels, and I don’t understand myself either. Nate and I are not a possibility. Not ten years ago. Not now. Not ever. The pack is everything to him. But it’s useless. My brain repeats the way he took off his jacket and stalked towards me with his mischievous smile, and things inside me wake up again. When he rolled up his sleeves, and the tattoo on his forearm came into view, I heard gasps around me. The moment he held me close, I froze. Goosebumps appeared on my skin, and a shiver

Sarah It has been a crazy evening. Nate at krav maga practice was both annoying and annoyingly sexy. I've never been this attracted to a guy. When Brit gets frustrated with us cozying up on the sofa and leaves for her room, I risk a glance at Nate. The adoring eyes he has for me melt my heart. His hold on me loosened only to let me turn towards him. I’m kneeling, sitting back on my heels, and leaning on the sofa. What if I ask him to stay? Would he want to stay? He puts his elbow on the back of the sofa to reach my shoulder with his hand. Each touch, each caress, is maddeningly slow. Like he is testing the water if I’m okay with it. Usually, a guy would know my intentions by this time because I’m always straightforward with what I want. With Nate, though, the only question is if I’m able to let myself believe that what I want is what he wants. However, It scares the hell out of me. We get up to move the bottles and the rest of the food to the kitchen, chatting a bit about the s

Nate Her lips melt into mine to burn up our bodies pressed against each other. We don’t even feel the mate bond, yet the chemistry is intense. Our hearts beat and quicken simultaneously. Her kiss is as fierce and demanding as mine. I feel her shudder like yesterday when my fingers slide under her top. As I enjoy learning her little telltales, Dante’s possessive chanting: ‘Those lips are mine, those fingers can only touch me, mine, mine, mine,’ fills my head. I can’t argue with that. The feeling that she is perfect for me grows with each moment. We were born for each other. My hands explore her body –one moment, I’m tenderly caressing her waist, and the next, I’m possessively grabbing her back. Oh fuck, her shorts are so thin. I can feel her skin warming as she pushes up on her tiptoes. No panty line either. I’m in deep shit. Dante agreed to keep things slow, but Sarah didn’t, and it's hard being the only considerate one in the room right now. She pushes me backward, and I remember

Sarah I hate, hate these boots, and I’m never wearing them again – I think each time I slip, but then Nate’s steady arm comes around me, and I suddenly don’t hate them that much. His chest warms my back, and his voice: “I got you,” warms my heart. Things escalated quickly between us, and I’d lie if I said I didn’t initiate it. Dancing with him feels like our bodies are made for each other. His massive frame can hold my body perfectly. He doesn’t move much but the exact way and direction with me. I feel his muscles ripple under his t-shirt, and after the afternoon we had in my room, I don’t need to use my imagination to know what that looks like. The way he holds me gives me a pause each time - from tender pecks on my head to passionate kisses to suggestive ass-grabbing. I’m here for it all. His cocky smile each time he teases me turns me on, and I can kiss him whenever I want to. And oh boy, I want to kiss him all the time. I hardly recognize our friends around us. My sole focus is