The Ruthless Luna Of Alpha Clyde

No one knew better than Emma Watson that the Formonix warehouse sheltered secrets about her parent’s gruesome murder. She believed that some truth lingered within the walls of the organization. However, the only problem was that no one else believed her. For some strange reason, everyone urged her to drop the case and bury her nose in another one. ‘These are people you don’t want to mess with.’ Her boss would say every time she discovered a clue leading back to the warehouse. ‘They are dangerous people, Emma, even the government knows not to mess with them.’ Her partner had warned her. Why was everyone trying to get her to drop the case? Eleven years ago, her parents were murdered mysteriously. Their killer had taken her world and twisted it into a sad version of what it had once been. She was just a little girl, with a shattered heart. She didn’t remember a time in her life without grief. She couldn’t recall a life where she went shopping with her mum or dressed up for Hallowe

Her mind was steering all sorts of things she liked to keep away. But she needed all the ideas and brutality in the world if she was going to survive. Ten meters, or more as she figured it, people were surrounding her. Eleven. Her eyes counted them. And they were staring at her with such hostility that sent shivers down her spine. She had her gun, and it was loaded with bullets. But how fast would she be able to shoot eleven men scattered around the room? It was impossible. Nonetheless, she had to try. She had to save herself. They were still watching her. Whatever was keeping them from attacking her was far beyond Emma’s reasoning. Maybe they were aroused by her defenseless looks and just viewed her as a lump of fresh, tender meat. Whatever, she would have to use their underestimation as her strength. It happened in a second. She reached and pulled her gun, but he was faster than her, faster and stronger. She didn’t even have a second to aim, Callus had launched himself towards

Standing in the middle of destruction, his chest rising and falling, Clyde slowly raised his black vacant eyes to meet his mate who had watched him tear apart limbs and heads. She was coiled in a corner, her eyes screaming fear. He took a step closer, disappearing into the darkness for only a brief moment before reappearing only inches away from her. He was standing before her, his soulless black eyes staring into hers. She was unable to suppress her fear and trembled beneath him. He couldn't discern if she was terrified of the massive head he held like a trophy or his demeanor. He didn't have to know that. All he knew was that she was terrified of him. He didn't blame her. He killed eleven men, who she watched transform into unknown creatures far from humans. He didn't kill them with a gun or knife like she intended. No. He had ripped off their heads with his hands, bathing himself with the blood of her enemies. She should, of course, be terrified of him. Power flushed through

She muttered something under her breath as she walked into the building, mentally prepared to face her boss and partner. But as she walked in, the chaos and tension in the air told her that she might after all slip and walk away unnoticed. Emma watched as people darted back and forth within the department. Heads were huddled together in a corner as they spoke in low tones discussing an event or occurrence that seemed to hold much importance. Her boss was speaking to someone on the phone, pacing hurriedly in his office and her partner's attention was undivided as he read through files. 'Serial Killer...' her ears picked up from the group in the corner. Emma swallowed heavily, she had no idea what had happened but she knew it was devastating. She prayed silently, that it wasn't as gruesome as everyone's reaction made it seem.Walking to her partner at his desk, she greeted him. "Morning Allen, How are you?..."Looking up at her, he replied immediately. "Where have you been all morning

Clyde took a brisk step backwards, letting himself sit comfortably on her bed. "You might want to sit down for this....""No, thank you..." "It's your bedroom, Emma Watson..." He replied with an injured expression. "You should sit...""No. I. Don't. Want. To. Sit. On. The. Bed..." She replied firmly. "Or close to you..." She finally breathed. "Why? You think I'm a monster?..." He was amused. Did she think backing away from him could stop him if he desired to kill her? She would have been dead the minute she walked in if he intended to kill her. She blinked. "You killed those men..." It wasn't a question. He didn't think so. It was an affirmation that she did think of him as a monster. "Did I commit a crime?...""The murders are being investigated...""Are they now?..." The air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. There was a slight tone of mockery and mischief in his last question. Her words were clipped. "I ask again..." She drew her breath. "What are you doing here?...""I