Semua Bab Alejandro's Human Antidote : Bab 51 - Bab 60

Alejandro’s POVI know what fire smells like. It is in the air when Zenith is close. Thick, sweet, and maddening. The scent of blooming desire, unfiltered and raw, clings to her like wild jasmine and warm honey, and the longer she stays wrapped around me like that, the more I feel like I am slowly losing my grip.I have fought in bloody arenas. I have rained in merciless terrain. Heck, I even survived betrayal, exile, and centuries of bloodline secrets. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepares you for a determined eighteen-year-old girl who has discovered that she is the destined mate of a werewolf, and wants to cash in every fantasy she has ever read about.Zenith thinks I am pulling back because I do not feel the bond as deeply as she does. Poor girl. She has no idea how close I came to snapping. When she said she was ready, when she kissed me like I was oxygen and she had been drowning for years, the dam I had so carefully constructed almost shattered. My wolf, Inferno, was alre

Zenith’s POVI cannot stop smiling. No, not just smiling. Grinning like an idiot, cheeks aching, heart bubbling with this ridiculous, giddy warmth. Alejandro sits across from me in the car, one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine, and I keep stealing glances like a lovesick teenager.He has caught me staring at least five times now. Maybe six. Each time, his lips twitch like he is trying not to laugh. Ugh. How am I supposed not to stare at someone who just casually says, "Let’s take a trip to Nevada," and then follows it up with, "Because I want to see you happy"?We are cruising along a winding road that cuts through the red Nevada mountains. The air outside is warm and dry, desert wind drifting in through the half-lowered window, teasing strands of my hair. The sun hangs low, casting a golden glow across the rugged landscape. Our fingers are laced, and even though the car is quiet, the silence between us is full. Not awkward. Just… full.I glance at him again. His jaw is tight

Koa’s POV Nevada air tastes different. It is drier than the woods back east, but somehow cleaner and crisper. The scent of pine rides every breeze, drifting through the ridgelines and canyons like an old lullaby I barely remember humming as a boy.I adjust the hood of my ash-gray jacket and lean back against the rock ledge I have claimed for the morning. Below me, tucked neatly into a sun-washed clearing, the villa stands like a quiet promise, stone and timber wrapped in tall glass, resting in the arms of the forest. Remote. Private. Perfect.I do not need to get closer. I saw her yesterday when they arrived. Zenith. Nine years have passed since she pressed those tiny, shaking hands against my side while her grandmother chanted in a language time forgot. I did not know what they were doing back then. At that time, I honestly did not care.I was bleeding out. Hunted. Half-crazed with pain and rage. And they saved me. A little girl and her unnervingly calm grandmother, living in a cabi

Zenith's POVThe sky outside is still hazy with morning mist when I walk barefoot into the living room, trailing Alejandro's hoodie behind me like a cloak of safety. My wolf-man is already gone from the bed. No surprise there. He moves like a shadow in the mornings, quiet, precise, and too graceful for someone that dangerous.I can still smell him in the sheets though. Espresso and sandalwood. Comfort and mystery. I peek into the study and catch him seated at his desk, fingers dancing over his laptop. He is in black again. He always wears black like it is a second skin. Regal, effortless. Dangerous. And mine.He looks up. Smiles. "Like a little puddle. I almost drowned in my sleep." I blink, then realize what he means. My cheeks flush with horror. "I did not drool that much." He smirks, pulls me gently into his lap, and I melt. Gods, I melt so easily with him. One brush of his fingers and I forget that I used to live a normal life before him. Before us.His body is warm, and has a gro

Koa’s POVThere are few beings I respect in this world. Even fewer I would be willing to follow into the fires of hell. Alejandro Wolfgang, no, Alejandro Bloodfang is not one of them. But his wolf? Inferno is. And I am not say that lightly.I have seen the beast stir behind his eyes. I have felt the shift in the air when he is angry, or protective, or when his mate breathes too close. The boy, Alejandro, he is still learning the ropes, still figuring out how deep the ocean inside him runs. But his wolf... that spirit is old. Older than any of them realize. Maybe even older than most immortals.There is something ancient sleeping in his blood. Something primal. Something holy. Inferno is not bound by the age of his host. He is not a mere animal tethered to a boy’s whims. No. He is a force that has been waiting. Watching. Choosing. And now… he has chosen to act.I watch from the ridge again tonight. The mountain wind whips against my back as I settle into the cold earth, eyes trained o