Todos os capítulos de The Alpha's Fated White Wolf : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 8

I didn’t sleep.The guest room was bigger than my entire apartment, with soft sheets that smelled like expensive detergent and a view of the city that should have been calming. Instead I lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the penthouse and the low, restless feeling under my skin that refused to settle.Every time I closed my eyes I saw silver.When the first gray light of morning crept through the glass, I got up, washed my face, and tried to look less like a woman who had spent the night fighting the urge to walk down the hall and knock on his door. My dress from the gala was wrinkled. I found a plain black T-shirt and soft gray sweatpants folded on the chair—clearly left for me. They smelled faintly of him. I hated how much I liked it.I was in the kitchen trying to figure out the complicated coffee machine when the elevator doors opened with a soft chime.A man stepped out.Tall. Broad. Dark blond hair cut short, sharp blue eye

The silence after Damian left felt heavier than the argument that came before it.I paced the length of the penthouse living room, bare feet silent on the cold marble. The two guards Kane had left stationed near the elevator didn’t speak. They barely even looked at me. Their presence was supposed to make me feel safe. Instead it only reminded me that I was a prisoner in a gilded cage, waiting to find out whether an entire pack of werewolves would accept me or try to erase me.My phone sat on the kitchen counter like a live grenade. The Syndicate message still glowed on the screen every time I checked it. We know where you are. I had spent two years looking over my shoulder, changing cities, changing names, sleeping with one eye open. I thought the PA job at Voss Empire had finally given me a clean start. I had been wrong.A sharp pain suddenly bloomed behind my ribs—deep, foreign, and not entirely my own. I gasped and pressed a hand to my chest. The sensation wasn’t phys

woke to the smell of coffee and the low murmur of Damian’s voice. For a few disoriented seconds I forgot where I was. Then the events of the previous night crashed back— the attack, the blood, the kiss that still burned on my lips. I sat up in the massive bed. The sheets smelled like him. The armchair by the window was empty. Damian stood near the windows, now clear again, phone pressed to his ear. Morning light carved sharp lines across his face and the hard set of his shoulders. He had changed into black trousers and a dark shirt, the picture of the cold CEO once more—except for the way his eyes immediately found mine the second I moved. He ended the call without looking away. “You’re awake.” “How long did I sleep?” “Six hours. Longer than I expected.” He walked over and set a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. “Kane reports the building is secure. The bodies have been removed. The Syndicate will know by now that t