All Chapters of Primal Craving : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

It's a joy to be hidden but a disaster not to be found -D.W Winnicott CAMELLIA I 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 fe

The scariest kind of danger is the one that makes your body lean in before your brain can scream “ run.” " — R.M. Thorne. CAMELLIA I'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 fine I 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

“You were destined for me, perhaps as a punishment.” —Fyodor Dostoevsky LUCIEN I’d faced coups, rogue attacks and had near-death experiences. Yet somehow, one stubborn human with the scent of vanilla had me unraveling. The council meeting dragged on from rogue attacks, territory disputes, cross-pack alliances and the usual chaos of werewolf politics but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Between my fingers, I twirled the bracelet she hadn’t realized she’d dropped. Four days since her scent clung to it, still teasing, faint but enough to drive my wolf mad with hunger. The room brimmed with wolves from every territory. Some former alphas, some current. My father sat two chairs down, silent but watchful. Darius lounged three seats away, relaxed, cocky, insufferably at ease as if he had no idea I was one heartbeat away from tearing his throat out. How dare he? Come into my pack and touch what was mine. “Lucien,” Nyla’s voice sliced through the room, sharp with amusement. “If you’re

All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire. —Edgar Allan poe DARIUS Some presences choke you like smoke, but hers,hers lit me on fire. And I hadn’t burned 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 pushed them harder than usual, not out of discipline, but because I needed the noise to drown out the chaos in my chest. Something in me was unraveling and I didn’t ask for it. “Nah, fuck you. Do the rounds yourself,” Alaric groaned, collapsing beside me like he’d been shot. I shot a warning snarl at my beta without saying a word, lifting my hand to dismiss the others. They dropped immediately, forming sweaty heaps of exhausted werewolves across the training ground. I stalked toward the punching bag, still full of that gnawing, restless fire. I needed impact. Pain. Anything. “We’ve finished the eastern patrol sweep. No signs of movement near the

All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. — Alan Moore, The Killing Joke. LUCIEN My thoughts stopped making sense around noon. By evening, the silence in my head was louder than the world. I didn’t knock. I slammed the door open, the frame rattling as I stormed in without thinking much of the consequence. Luca didn’t even flinch at first,too busy thrusting into her like she was some prize he earned. Her back arched as he palmed her breasts,mouth open around a moan that made my skin itch. I grabbed him by the hair, yanking him back so violently that the sound he made was more animal than human. The female gasped, scrambling back as I tore him out of her. He hit the floor with a dull thud trying to rise, but I was already on him. My boot met his chest and slammed him down again. "You must be fucking stupid," My voice was flat as I spoke."You thought today was the day to test me?" His lips moved, maybe a name, maybe an apology, I didn’t care. My han