AUTHOR’S POV They stepped into the shower area, and the sounds of bare feet stepping on the tile were getting louder and louder as they made it under one of the shower heads. The shower area itself was just a single room, blocked by a small door. There was no cover between the five or six showers, so they both had plenty of space to mess around and get each other clean. The whole shower room was tiled, so the two would have to try hard not to fall over because of how slippery everything was. “I have always wanted to do this with someone, but I haven’t had a proper girlfriend in a long time.” His voice was silky as velvet. The guard pushed Alicia against the cold tiled wall, his body squishing up against hers. Her nipples were hard and almost carved into his chest, but he didn't care. Her breasts squeezed and contoured around his chest as they both continued kissing. Their legs were moving constantly, trying to find a good footing, before eventually finding a good rhythm. The guard

AUTHOR’S POV The touch of the evening air was too much as Rick stepped out of the taxi, his eyes immediately drawn to the flurry of activity at the maximum-security prison. Guards hustled across the yard, their faces covered with concern, while the urgent wail of alarms pierced the air. He watched closely as two guards emerged, dragging a protesting couple out of the prison’s grand gates. “Come back another time! Visiting hours are over!” One guard barked, tossing the woman’s bag to her feet with a dismissive flick of his wrist. The woman, her face painted with frustration and desperation, clutched her bag tightly. “Why are you being so unfair? Visiting hours end at 10 p.m., and it’s only 7 p.m.,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I haven’t seen my niece in ages! Panic spurred Rick into action, and he stepped forward, his determination clear. “I need to get inside,” he insisted, his voice firm. “My girlfriend’s in there. You can’t deny me access; we haven’t seen each other in a lon

AUTHOR’S POV The day dawned crisp and clear as the sun poured through the streets. Alicia stormed into the grocery store, her presence as chilling as the ski mask that covered her face. The assault rifle in her grip was not just a weapon, but a representation of her desire to kill. “Put your hands where I can see them,” she hissed at the store owner, who obeyed with a tremble. “Please don’t kill me, I just opened, I haven’t earned any money!” He pleaded, but his plea for mercy fell on deaf ears. A cold laugh escaped Alicia’s throat and echoed in the cramped space. “I don’t want your money, old man, I just need to grab some supplies.” She replied and obtained a coil of rope from one of the shelves. She kept the man caged in the sights of her rifle as she closed the distance. “Stay here and don’t make a sound, if you try to act smart, I will have no option but to kill you,” she threatened as she used the rope to tie his hands behind him, securing him to the shelf like a display of h

AUTHOR’S POV The afternoon sun streamed through the open windows, brightening the inside of the lab. Nora sat on the makeshift bed of clothes, her stomach growling in protest as she awaited George’s return with food. Jack busied himself with the windows, letting in light to compensate for the lack of electricity. Nora’s voice broke the silence. “Jack, where did you and George disappear to for all those months? And why did you guys make everyone think you were dead?” A masculine chuckle escaped his lungs. “We didn’t fake our deaths, Nora.” He said, shaking his head. “It was a bizarre twist of fate. We were attacked on our way out of the pack, and now that I think about it, the attacker was probably Dante.” Her mind raced through a thousand questions and possibilities. “That does make sense. Dante would want George out of the way to make kidnapping the kids easier. He must have seen him as a threat.” She muttered and frowned a little. “I still can’t believe George left the pack behi

AUTHOR’S POV A year later, A year had passed since Nora lost Leo, bringing her to this moment, seated in the dressing room, staring at herself in a wedding dress. Mrs. Williams, who had once been a wicked mother, now stood before her, offering jewels as tokens of acceptance and regret. The nightstand was filled with daily gifts from her and her husband, each one a silent plea for forgiveness. Nora’s gaze lingered on the jewels, her voice soft but strong. “I cannot accept these anymore,” she remarked. “Like I said before, I have already forgiven you a long time ago. These gifts aren’t necessary.” Regret formed a jagged rock in Mrs. Williams's stomach, and emotion flickered across her face. “These gifts are my punishment,” she declared. “I did a lot of awful things in the past, and I forgot that love doesn’t care about social status. The moon goddess herself would agree to that; that is why she made you my son’s mate. And no one is more suited for him than you.” The knock at the do