Semua Bab Primal Craving : Bab 1 - Bab 8

It's a joy to be hidden but a disaster not to be found-D.W Winnicott CAMELLIAI mixed the bowl of pancake batter absent mindedly, my eyes on Lilah as she fiddled with the rubix cube. Her hair lay in messy waves, her tongue darted out as she turned the cube in different directions.Are they like the mafia?Why was he looking at me like that?Who has arms with such defined muscles?My phone buzzed from my pocket, bringing me out of my thoughts. I had a week left before rent was due and had already paid for Lilah's special needs school plus private tutoring. I didn't work on Saturday so who was calling?. I rinsed my hands at the sink drying them on my jeans before reaching for the phone.My brows furrowed as Bobby's name flashed across the screen. I debated answering it, he had no business calling me on a Saturday morning.“Hello” I answered, moving to where Lilah was now colouring in the picture of a swan, the rubix cube with all colours now perfectly aligned discarded at her feet. “Go

The scariest kind of danger is the one that makes your body lean in before your brain can scream “ run.” "— R.M. ThorneCAMELLIAI'll let it be.That was what I told myself after I saw the text from Bobby and the box sitting at my doorstep.I’ll find a way around it.I told myself again after the first rent notice came in,a payment I hadn’t missed once.I was going to be fineI reassured myself but more than half my paycheck vanished the moment I bought Lilah’s meds.Six years old, and already battling such an illness. Not cancer, technically, but the drugs she needed might as well have been made of crushed diamonds.The gift boxes came every day. Each one larger than the last but they remained unopened.All from the same guy with the same sloppy cursive writing and same address scribbled on it.“For the moon that lights up my darkest hunts.”I scoffed at the cheesiness of the notes that always came with the gifts.What the hell does that even mean?Still, gotta admire his consistency

You were destined for me, perhaps as a punishment—Fyodor DostoevskyLUCIENI’d faced coups, rogue attacks, and near-death. But somehow, one stubborn human with vanilla shampoo had me spiraling.The meeting dragged on about rogue attacks, territory disputes, cross-pack alliances, the usual chaos of werewolf politics but I couldn’t bring myself to care.Between my fingers, I twirled the bracelet she didn’t realize she’d dropped. Four days since her scent clung to it, and still, it taunted me faintly, fading, but enough to drive my wolf mad with hunger.The room was packed with wolves from different territories. Some former alphas, some current.My father sat two chairs down, silent but watchful. Darius was three seats away looking relaxed,cocky and insufferably at ease like he didn’t know I was one heartbeat away from tearing his throat out.How dare he?Come into my pack… lay his hands on what was mine.“Lucien,” Nyla's voice cut through the room like a blade dipped in amusement. “If

All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire—Edgar Allan poeDARIUSThere’s a kind of presence that stirs something in a man, and it hit me with her in a way it hadn’t in years.“Again,” I yelled at the men sprinting across the field. Their strides had slowed, a clear contrast of the burst of energy they started with. I made them run more rounds than usual, not out of discipline, but because I needed the noise, the pounding feet and the sharp exhales to drown out the chaos in my chest.Something was unraveling in me and I didn’t ask for it.“Nah, fuck you. Do the rounds yourself,” Alaric groaned, collapsing beside me like he’d been shot, his chest heaving like he’d just outrun death itself.I shot a warning snarl at my beta without saying a word, lifting one hand to motion to the others that they could take a break. They dropped immediately, forming sweaty heaps of exhausted werewolves across the training ground.I stalked toward the punching bag, still full