Semua Bab Craving Forbidden Pleasures : Bab 91 - Bab 100

The moon was a blade tonight.It hung sharp and silver above the treetops, pouring light down into the clearing where Sienna stood, barefoot and trembling. The bite on her shoulder throbbed like a second heartbeat, hot and pulsing, each beat whispering one word through her body: His.Her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. The Alpha stood only a few steps away, half in shadow, half drenched in moonlight. His chest was bare now, his skin slick with the heat that rolled off him in waves. His golden eyes fixed on her like a predator deciding when to pounce.“You should run,” he said, voice low, dangerous.It was not a suggestion. It was an order meant to stir the prey in her bones.Sienna’s nails dug into her palms. “Why?”He tilted his head, his gaze dragging slowly down her body and back up again, lingering on the rapid flutter of her pulse. “Because I want to chase you. And because you need to know what happens when I catch you.”The forest behind her was a tangle of black trunks a

The forest had fallen silent after the storm of their claim. The fire in the cabin’s hearth was low, flickering, casting golden shadows across the walls. The moonlight filtered through the windows, touching Sienna’s skin with silver warmth.Her body was still trembling, heart still racing, mind spinning from the bite and the feral intensity of his possession. Every nerve screamed with awareness of him — the heat radiating from his bare chest, the weight of his hands on her skin, the scent of him lingering in every corner of the room, wrapped around her like an invisible chain.The Alpha sat back against the hearth’s stone, his gaze fixed on her. Golden eyes, molten with the heat of his wolf, softening just slightly as they held hers.“You’re quiet,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “I expected more protest.”Sienna swallowed, still tasting him on her lips, feeling the burn of the bite on her shoulder. Her pulse throbbed in tandem with the mark. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitte

The roar of the waves echoed against the cliffs as Ivy’s car wound its way up the winding road to the mansion. Rain pelted the windshield, and the wind whipped the palm trees into frantic motion, but Ivy barely noticed the storm outside. Her chest felt tight, nerves fraying at the thought of spending the weekend with him—Jace.Her mother’s voice had sounded so cheerful over the phone. “He’s… different now, Ivy. You’ll see. You’ll get along.”Ivy had rolled her eyes and muttered a polite “sure,” but she knew better. She had seen the photos. Tattoos inked like dark fire across his arms, a grin that was equal parts arrogance and danger, a look in his eyes that could make even the boldest girl feel exposed. And now, she had no choice—her mother had remarried, and this sprawling beachside mansion was to be her home… at least until the storm passed.The front door swung open before she could even reach the wet porch. He was there, as if he had been waiting, tall and unbothered despite the r

The storm had refused to yield. By late afternoon, the rain had turned into a relentless downpour, hammering the mansion with unyielding force. The kind of storm that trapped you inside, with nowhere to escape—not from the weather, and not from yourself.Ivy sat on the edge of the couch, blanket clutched around her shoulders. She had tried to read, had tried to distract herself, but every shadow in the room seemed to stretch toward him. Jace lounged opposite, sprawled in a chair, watching her with a casual intensity that made her stomach coil and her skin ache.“You know,” he said finally, voice low and teasing, “you’re very… entertaining when you’re frustrated.”She glared at him, cheeks warming. “I’m not frustrated.”He smirked, tilting his head. “Right. Not frustrated. Just… bothered that I exist, that I’m here, that I’m… me.”“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.He shifted, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees

The sun rose reluctantly over the storm-battered mansion, casting a pale, gray light through the gauzy curtains. The world outside was damp, glistening, washed clean by the tempest of the night before, but inside Ivy’s room, the air was thick with tension, heat, and the aftermath of everything that had happened.Ivy stirred under the blanket, curling into herself. The scent of him still lingered in the sheets—the heat of his skin, the faint smoke and salt of his presence—and she felt a shiver run down her spine. She had thought she could hide, she had thought she could push him out of her mind, but the memory of him claiming her, rough, insistent, and yet somehow tender in his own way, clung to her with the weight of a storm.Then the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Ivy tensed instinctively, heart hammering.“Morning,” Jace said, voice low and teasing, like gravel sliding over silk. He leaned against the doorframe, wet hair clinging to his forehead, droplets sliding down his n