How Many Poems Are In E.J. Pratt: Selected Poems?

"At this point in a werewolf's life, all sons of an Alpha will be proud and eager to take over as the next Alpha. All, except me!" Damien Anderson, next in line to become Alpha, conceals a dark secret in his family's history which gnawed his soul everyday, turning him to the villain he once feared he'd become. Despite his icy demeanor, he finds his heart drawn to Elara, his mate. To protect himself from love's vulnerability, he appoints her as a maid, an act that both binds them and keeps them apart. Just as it seemed he might begin to open up his heart to Elara, a revelation emerges that shakes the very foundation of their bond, and he must confront the dark truth about his family's legacy. The stakes are higher than ever as Damien faces a choice that could lead to salvation or plunge him deeper into the shadows he has fought to escape.

At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm. "A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see." Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days. The room erupted in laughter. Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me. "Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof. From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense. They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene. Instead, I simply gave a calm nod. The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight. That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers. I smiled and said, "No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."

Maeve Edgar's life plan was simple: survive until Selection Day, then disappear forever. As the pack's favorite scapegoat, she's spent years perfecting the art of being invisible. But when she gets kidnapped and dumped in front of the most dangerous prince in the kingdom, invisible stops being an option. Prince Riven is everything the rumors say - cold, lethal, and absolutely not interested in playing nice. So why does he choose her for some mysterious academy that nobody's ever heard of? And why does being near him feel like remembering something she never knew she'd forgotten? Turns out the Blood Moon Academy is where pack heirs compete in brutal trials to earn a place in the Royal Court. Now she's stuck fighting alongside the same spoiled brats who used to torment her, trying to prove she belongs somewhere she was never supposed to be. The connection between them grows stronger with every moment they're in the same room. It's the kind of bond wolves used to have before the Great War - the kind everyone says is just a myth now. But people are asking questions about her family, her past, her dreams of faces she's never seen. The wrong kind of people. And some of them seem very interested in making sure she doesn't get the answers she's looking for. The Academy was supposed to be about earning her place in the world. Turns out it might be about remembering who she used to be.

There was only one week left until my marking ceremony with Alpha Mason Wright. And this time, he was asking to postpone it yet again, all because his puphood sweetheart, Eira Padmore, the she-wolf who once saved his life, had another episode. She was in tears, begging to go to Bhador to see the snow, just like every time before, claiming she wouldn't be able to breathe otherwise. The ceremony had already been pushed back three times. All the wolves of the north had been waiting for us to complete it. But I was done waiting, and so was the pup growing inside me. If Mason refused to mark me, then I'd walk away and build my own future. But what I couldn't understand was... Why was it that the moment I left, Mason went mad searching for me, and suddenly insisted on marking me after all?

For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover. After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly. He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!" When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window. I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and blood!" Sam replied coldly, "Nicole needs specimen for her experiments. All I'm doing is providing her with the materials she needs." His words dug into my heart like icy spikes, and I could even hear my own bones cracking. "As for Penelope…" He chuckled. "Do you think that our marriage certificate is the real deal?" Snowflakes stung my face like needles, and I finally found out the truth about our marriage. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a living test subject for the woman he truly loved. Sam was right. Those unborn children never even had legal identities, and were worth less than a piece of paper, just like my so-called marriage. Glass shattered from inside the room, and I could hear Wren cursing, but I turned and walked towards the elevator. Since Sam's priority was Nicole and nothing else, I was hell-bent on making him pay the price.

Charlotte Crowe's childhood sweetheart started acting up again, which meant she was ready to divorce me again. By then, I had gone numb. I looked at her calmly and said, "This will be the eighth time." Guilt crossed her face as she looked at me, her eyes full of helplessness and pleading. "Gregory, I don't have a choice. You know Victor talks about killing himself every day. I can't just ignore him. But don't worry. As soon as I calm Victor down, we'll get married again." I said nothing. She had said the same thing to me more times than I could count. We got married eight times and got divorced eight times. Even the courthouse staff knew me by now. Behind my back, they said we practically kept the divorce court in business. With the freshly issued divorce papers in my hand, a staff member behind me asked curiously, "So when are you coming back for your next remarriage?" I gave a faint shake of my head. "There won't be a next time."