Lahat ng Kabanata ng Love is Hell; Mate is Heaven: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Zane’s POVI closed the drawer, neatly stacking the underwear, and turned around.My eyes froze on Mabel. She stood there, wrapped in a towel, completely still, as if she were waiting for me to say something.The towel, soft and white with yellow edges, was just long enough to cover her from chest to thighs, barely enough to hide anything. She held the towel tight, her knuckles turning white. I couldn’t help but notice how it made her chest stand out. Damn, she knew exactly what she was doing.I let out a small, amused smirk. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mabel?"Her face exploded into a deep blush. It was so intense even her ears turned bright red. If she kept this up, I might need to revive her with some mouth-to-mouth.Mabel tightened her grip on the towel. "I-I didn’t get clothes… I need... clothes," she stuttered, struggling to speak clearly. "What seducing? Who would even try to seduce the Devi

Mabel’s POV"Mr. Blake, it's a pleasure to see you," the man said, offering Zane a handshake. He smiled, his eyes flicking briefly to me, a hint of familiarity there. "Dr. Franklin is expecting you."Zane glanced at me, checking if I was okay. When I gave a slight nod, he accepted the handshake, and we moved past him. I couldn’t help but notice the odd way people called him "Mr. Blake." It seemed so... normal. It felt out of place, almost too casual, for someone like him.There was a time when werewolves didn’t need surnames. They identified by their first names, their pack, their rank. But now, since blending with humans, every family had a last name. And the Blake name? It wasn’t just a name—it was a title. It signified power. Zane’s family had been among the most respected in the werewolf community for generations. That name carried weight, respect.I couldn't help but wonder why Zane had used that n

Mabel's POVThe leather booth was soft beneath me, but the nerves gnawing at my stomach had nothing to do with comfort. Sitting next to Zane—Alpha Zane—was enough to make me question if this moment was real. I discreetly pinched my palm under the table, just to be sure I wasn’t dreaming.Here I was, in a fancy steakhouse, sitting across from the most intimidating man I’d ever met. The wooden walls of the restaurant were lined with photos of hunters and their prized game, antlers hanging from the ceiling like trophies. The low, golden glow of the chandeliers made the place feel like something out of an old western, far removed from the modern city outside with its concrete and metal buildings. It was surreal.The waiter appeared at our table, taking our drink orders before leaving two menus in front of us. I opened mine, but my thoughts immediately drifted back to earlier in the day.After leaving the hospi

Mabel’s POVI didn’t expect to see Zane standing there, looking so distant, like something was on his mind. It made me wonder—where did that girl from this morning go? Did he send her home?But this wasn’t the time to ask, not after the icy treatment he gave me earlier. I had to show him I wouldn’t get in his way.“Alpha Zane,” I began, trying to keep my tone neutral, “I see something’s weighing on your mind. I don’t mean to pry, but if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I can ask my father to assist, if necessary.”Zane didn’t want to talk to me. I could tell by the way his eyes flicked to the side. But he wasn’t going to tell me to leave just yet. He knew that if Mabel came out of the kitchen right now, she'd make her way upstairs. And if Isabel saw her head up, she might start putting pieces together. He needed me out of here—fast, bu

Mabel’s POVThe moment Isabel’s grip tightened on my arm, I felt the weight of her accusation: I was a thief. A liar. She had no proof, no evidence, but that didn’t stop her from trying to drag me down.I could feel the cold pressure of my resolve building. I need to leave. Now.Living on the street, without a roof over my head, seemed far better than being here in constant fear of Isabel. What was the point of a cozy room if I couldn’t walk freely within it? If every corner might be filled with someone ready to torment me?I looked at the door. It was my only way out. But before I could reach it, Isabel’s grip tightened, her fingers like claws digging into my skin."Where do you think you’re going?" Her voice was low, full of warning. "Did I give you permission to leave?"I winced at the pressure. She was strong—stronger than me, but not strong enough to stop me. Not if I p