CelineI‘m falling and it feels like it lasts forever. The darkness presses in on all sides, stealing my breath before I can let out a scream. When will I land?I gasp awake with wide eyes, heaving in huge breaths of relief. No more falling, no more darkness. I’m awake. The jingling of chains gets my attention and I glance down with a horrified gasp to find... everything upside down. What-I feel it then, thick chains gripping my ankles and anchoring me to the roof. The rest of the cage materialises, reinforced bars designed to hold me in. No. No. No. No. Yes. My fear is confirmed. I’m in the cage now, the exact one that used to hold Flinn. “Lor!” I scream, my voice ending on a cry. Why would he keep me here? Why would he leave me here alone? “Lor!!!”I’m the only prisoner here, the rest were killed. The door is closed and my cage doors are locked. I am suspended with chains and my panic is rising by the minute. I don’t want to be alone. Biting my lip, I fold my upper body up and

NeemIt wasn’t my intention but I’ve spent more than the initial day in the prince’s room. My shoulder is properly healed but the prince keeps finding excuses to keep me. He has also taken care of his father, keeping the king from asking for me and it is like I relocated to a mini paradise. Life in the castle has never been better. “Clocked!” I say, standing and leaping into the air with a great fist-pump. I upset the table of stone figures of the traditional game called Edge. “Sorry.” I say, laughing and bending to pick the pieces. Yes, my tongue has grown back in his chambers, one of the reasons I’m letting him keep me here with excuses. I can keep my tongue in his chambers and by the indulgent smile on his face, he doesn’t mind me keeping it either. “I‘m shaking with fear.” He drawls. “There’s no way that’s luck.”“Blasphemy!” I gasp. “You aren’t ready for me. I’m coming for your streak.”“I’m impressed.” He says, helping me to put back the pieces. “Nobody has ever beat me in a

CelineI put on the performance of my life for my father. As nice it would be to run crying daddy and have him rescue me, I know Lor will never let me go willingly. Convincing my father I was fine and would come to him very very soon was the only way to prevent a full-on war between the two men that had become important in my life. I don’t worry so much about Lor but about my family, people from my pack, friends I’ve made here. So I smiled and hid it from my father that I am as good as a captive with Lor watching the entire time. He can go suck a dick as much as I’m concerned. No explanation can undo the unforgivable thing he did under my nose. As my mate, that is the last thing I should be worried about. My trust in him should be complete so I wasn’t flying ahead of myself when I gave him my heart. For whatever reason he crushed my heart with his claws and betrayed my trust, I will make him suffer for it. And he does. Nessa pushes my door open, making an exasperated noise. “Are y

CelineA werewolf’s pregnancy is a thing of caution. There are laws surrounding pregnancy, rules set down by the goddess that must be adhered to. And so the pack house has been a hive of activity. First of all, no werewolf blessed by the goddess with a pup shall in any way, attempt to harm the baby. Just like it is a general rule that all pups must be protected before their Shifting, an unborn one is even more precious. Bearing life as a werewolf is a covenant between the parents and the goddess and to go against her divinely laid rules is to bring curses onto the pack. A little suspicious, a little superstitious, so did our ancestors think but enough examples have been made in the past for the law to be passed. You bring harm to one of the goddess’ little ones and you might as well have declared war on her yourself. The next one is the one I am determined not to think about. If I do, I will run mad. During the first two weeks of pregnancy, you have sex every day, nearly every hou

NeemAs promised, my duties resume today. The king beckons for me and I go to him, keeping the smile pasted on my face. I kneel in front of him and he lowers his lips to my shoulder. I don’t make a sound when his teeth punctures my skin, deeper than he usually goes, and he gulps my blood. I bear it because I had days without this, thanks to the prince and this is as close to starving as the king gets. The prince sits at his right hand and he stares down at the court with an aloof expression, bored even. On my glance, his gaze shifts to find mine and his eyes are completely unreadable. It’s like a thick curtain has slid over his eyes, shielding the wolf he is when he is not being prince. He looks away without so much as a blink, the shield of formality between us burning more than it should. We assume this role effortlessly in public, that of a regal prince and a mere servant not worth his time and even though I should be used to it, it still hurts. I have to wonder which of them is