Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claiming his Runaway Luna: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Midnight EyesThe first thing I notice is the aroma of costly colognes combining with supernatural pheromones so intense they make my stomach clench with sickness and want at once. Gold chandeliers fill the marble lobby, pouring light on sparkling dresses and fitted tuxedos. Every supernatural elite of Los Angeles is here tonight, and I have never felt so insignificant. “Miss Quinn, your invitation?” The vampire at the registration counter looks at me with dull scorn. Her fangs are half visible, lips painted a bruised purple that makes her skin gleam like moonlight ice. I fake a grin and hand over the black satin card embroidered with silver runes. My fingers shake. I twist them into a fist as she returns it, ignoring her smirk as if she can smell my anxiety. Maybe she can. These critters live on weakness. “Welcome to the Moonshadow Annual Supernatural Gala,” she purrs, already turning to the next visitor. “Try not to get eaten alive.” Her words reverberate ominously as I ent

Shattered ComposureI used to assume memories faded with time, like old ink fading beneath rain. But his touch, his fragrance, the ragged sound of his breathing on my skin - they have never faded. If anything, they haunt me more clearly with each passing year. “Don’t look away from me,” he muttered, voice deep and guttural as he held my wrists above my head. The cheap motel room smelled of liquor and perspiration, neon light flashing through the damaged slats over his muscular shoulders. His eyes flashed molten silver in the dark, pupils blown wide with want so hot it bordered on agony. “Lucian ” His mouth swallowed my words, tongue pushing beyond my lips, seizing me with frantic, primitive want. I tasted his wrath, his sadness, his unsaid longing to lose himself in something deeper than hatred. He tasted whiskey and winter pine and a loneliness that mirrored my own. My thighs gripped around his waist as he pushed into me again, slow and devastatingly deep. My back arched off

Awakening Shadows“I didn’t expect to see you here, little wolf.”The voice slithers across my skin like icy silk, rapidly lifting the small hairs along my neck. I look up from the vendor contracts scattered over the glass conference table and feel my stomach twist into knots. Damien Voss stands in the entryway of the events suite, framed by the late afternoon sun slanting through the panoramic windows. He’s clothed in a dark blue suit that molds to his tall, strong figure like a second skin. His hair is nicely groomed, streaked artistically with silver around the temples. His beautiful blue eyes glitter with pleasure as they skim over me. He looks precisely the same as he did five years ago - suave, ageless, and terrifyingly attractive. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dries. “Mr. Voss,” I manage, forcing my voice to stay calm. “I wasn’t aware you had a meeting here today.” His lips twist into a grin that never reaches his eyes. “I don’t. I was traveling on my way to meet L

Confession and Fury“Where is he?”The door bursts open with a power that shakes the jars and charms on Madame Liora’s antique shelves. Lucian walks in like a living storm, the power emanating from him so powerful that every candle flame bends towards him as though drawn by an unseen wind. His eyes locate mine quickly, silver and wild with wrath. For a time, we simply look at each other as two damaged souls straining beneath realities too heavy to carry. Then his attention moves to the shaking bundle in my arms. “Aaron,” I gasp, my voice trembling as new tears fall down my cheeks. “He’s… he’s not breathing right. His genes… Liora believes they’re awakening too early.” Lucian crosses the gap between us in two big leaps. He snatches Aaron from my arms with a snarl, cradling his small hot body to his chest as his jaw tightens. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he snarls, his voice low and quivering with restrained wrath. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me he was mine?” I sob, slumping

Dangerous Seduction“Do you want me to stop?”His voice is low, deadly, interwoven with a dark compassion that makes my knees quiver against the cold glass. Lucian’s bulk crushes me hard against the window of his penthouse room, the dazzling expanse of Los Angeles a whirl of lights beyond the glass. His hands imprison me, one braced over my head, the other grasping my waist so hard I know I’ll wear his bruises tomorrow. “Tell me to stop, Elara,” he breathes, his lips touching the shell of my ear, sending powerful thrills down my spine. “Tell me, and I will.” My breath stops in my throat. The city sprawls beneath us in sparkling surrender, and all I can hear is the fierce hammering of my pulse as his scent of dark pine and storm-drenched earth wraps around me like a chain. My fingertips shake on his chest, feeling the fierce rhythm of his heart beneath my touch. “Lucian…” My voice cracks with desperation and wordless yearning. “This… this is wrong.” His low chuckle resonates