Blakely Holy Moon Goddess, was I just flirting with Azrael, God of the mother-effing wolves? Bah, of course I wasn’t. He’d made a lewd comment, most likely to stroke his already over-inflated ego, and I simply knocked him down a peg. Really, I was doing the world a favor. Was there a medal for that? There should be. It was bad enough he was the most attractive man I’d ever seen, and judging from that smirk he knew it too, but he also held all the power of a god. Beautiful and deadly. A combination my lady parts seemed to love. Clearly, I needed therapy and a cold shower. I didn’t so much as glance his way until we were both in the kitchens, sitting at the island as we had been mere hours ago. The feast laid out before us spewed steam and a myriad of mouthwatering scents into the air. Once again, there was no meat. I was pleasantly surprised the magically possessed mansion cared about my dietary restrictions. There were platters of smoked vegetables, heavily seasoned with someth

Blakely I didn’t even get to enjoy my post-nightmare high thanks to a certain god. The year I’d spent at the blood mage’s camp hadn’t just scarred my body, but my mind too. Sleep was a constant battle that I rarely ever won. To hide the damage of my mother’s decision, I bought an alarm clock and kept my bedroom door locked at all times. I couldn’t risk attacking dad or Lina should one of them think to wake me up. Yes, I was a partially insane mess; no, I didn’t want to talk about it. Ignoring the problem had worked for me before, and it would have to do now. Besides, judging from Orion’s piss-poor attitude, there weren’t psychiatrists in the godly realm. Guess it was a good thing I was a pro at compartmentalizing. Azrael laughed beneath the pillow I suffocated him with, his chest rumbling beneath my forearms. Blinking the cobwebs from my eyes, I debated on whether or not I should continue my attempt at murdering him. Would killing a god earn me bragging rights? It fucking better.

Draco Tension permeated Orion’s study, blanketing the floor, tables, and shelves in a thick layer. My tail twitched, picking up on the anger that poured from his body. He watched Az with that cold calm of his, a sign he was well on the path to imploding. The girl’s arrival had clearly changed something within him. “I know what I saw, Orion. She was using the mirror to watch her family. It brought her right to them.” Az ran his fingers through his hair, a habit he did whenever he experienced any sort of negative emotion. Better than self-destructing, which he was also prone to doing. These two had been slowly working on my nerves the past few centuries. Constantly at one another’s throats, always on the verge of a catastrophic argument. Once I’d been a mediator for their fights, but now I had no choice but to sit on the sidelines and watch. Moments like this I missed my human form, but it did no good to linger on what I could no longer have. A skeptic at heart, Orion turned my way

Blakely He sauntered into the dining room, wearing a wrinkled button-up that hugged his chiseled frame and a pair of dark slacks. I tore my stare away from his meaty thighs and to the vicious scowl carved onto his regal face. If immortals could wrinkle, he’d look like an eighty-year-old man. He certainly had the temperament of one. The man was as beautiful as he was a pompous ass. I hid my smirk behind the glass of wine I was nursing. Apparently, the godly realm had mortal alcohol. It was more for taste than anything since immortals couldn’t get drunk off of the stuff, but I certainly could. Orion sat at the far end of the table, directly across from me. He didn’t spare me a single glance as he inclined his head towards Azrael and Draco. The massive, pale wolf had lumbered in just a few minutes before his hot-headed brother. The left side of the table had no chairs, which made sense when he plopped down at its edge. He was so tall that he could peer at me over the thing without ne

Blakely As usual, the first thing I woke up to was my tormentors smiling face. Azrael’s otherworldly good looks never failed to leave me breathless, but I wasn’t the only one struggling to get air in. He was too, though it was most likely because I had a tendency to strangle him in my sleep. It was hard to care about his safety when he continued to sneak into my room day in and day out. On a positive note, I was slowly becoming fond of this particular defense mechanism. This morning I found his dimpled grin and tousled hair a lot less charming. Unsurprisingly, it had everything to do with the conversation I’d overheard last night. Even if he wasn’t serious about planning on bedding me (who even said that anymore?), I had no intentions on becoming another notch in his godly bedpost. I ripped my hands away from his throat and snarled menacingly. “Enough creeping on me while I sleep!” His response was a lazy grin, a clear refusal as far as I was concerned. Heat warmed my face as I s