Nouvelles Secret Love Werewolf & Romans Devotion

That winter, the Silver Moon Pack holds its annual ski hunt. An avalanche strikes without warning, and the three of us are trapped in a lift pod. There's only one thermal suit left. My mate, Ryan Mercer, gives the thermal suit to me. I survive, but his childhood sweetheart, Eve Hurst, is buried forever beneath the endless white of the mountain. No body is ever found. However, he gazes at me with devotion and says, "Celine Bartlett, you are the love of my life." I soak in those words, believing them. But I have no idea this is the beginning of my nightmare. For the next five years, he speaks to me only with cruelty. "You killed Eve. You're a murderer!" He locks me in the basement and whips me with lashes soaked in wolfsbane. Then, he pretends to show pity and feeds me with a silver fork. When I refuse, he stabs me with silver nails across my legs, carving deep red lines into my skin. "This is what you owe her, and you will repay it!" When I ask for a reject, he stabs a silver dagger into my chest, dragging me into death with him. When I open my eyes, I find myself back on the day of the avalanche. This time, I hand the survival gear to Eve without hesitation. This time, I owe her nothing. And now, I want to see whether they will get their happy ending without me around.

Introduction My Alpha mate Ethan hated me for twelve years after his childhood sweetheart Ivy died. I tried everything to win him over but he would just sneer at me coldly. "I wish it had been you who died that day instead of her." When the rogue wolves attacked our territory, Ethan still threw himself in front of me. The silver blade meant for my heart pierced his chest instead. As his life slipped away, he stared at me with those piercing blue eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "If only... I had never met you." At the funeral, Ethan's parents—the former Alpha and his mate—wept uncontrollably. "I should have honored Ethan's choice to be with Ivy," his mother sobbed. "I never should have forced the mate bond between you and him!" The pack members surrounded me with accusing eyes and bitter words. "Alpha saved you three times! Three times!" one warrior snarled. "He was the best of us. Why couldn't it have been you who died?" Everyone regretted that Ethan had been bound to me as his mate. Even I regretted it. They drove me away from the funeral like a diseased animal. For three years, I howled my prayers to the Moon Goddess every night. Finally, the great Moon Goddess granted me something impossible—a second chance. I was back in the past. This time, I would cut every tie that bound Ethan and me together.

I found a wounded giant wolf. After the world ended, I treated him as my strongest fighter and a living source of warmth, curling against him to sleep every night. Later, once he healed, he turned into a man and warned me with a savage look, "I'm the Alpha of a werewolf pack. I have responsibilities to my people. Don't think you can make me stay." And with that, he left. I pulled my ragged blanket tighter, confused. What was he talking about? I had been keeping him as a dog the whole time. What did his responsibilities have to do with me? Later, I rescued a foolish husky from a pile of zombies. When I led him back to my crumbling shelter, I found the heir to the werewolf pack crouched at my door, covered in blood and looking utterly betrayed. His voice was hoarse, close to tears: "Throw that thing out and keep me instead, all right? I'm bigger, stronger, and have a thicker coat. I can warm your bed, and I'm better in that department too! "...If you don't agree, I'm kicking that stupid dog of yours back into the zombie pile!"

Just clocked out. My bestie, Chloe, texted. Begging me to go wild with her at a bar. I collapsed onto my bed. Exhausted. “No way. My legs are jelly. I can’t tonight.” I splashed some water on my face and stared at my reflection. Pale. Drained. Suddenly, I knew I needed a release. Anything to forget my inhuman, tyrant werewolf boss. I grabbed my phone again, ready to text Chloe. I wanted to type: “My whole body aches. No energy for the bar. I desperately need a rough, deep-tissue massage session tonight.” But my brain was fried. I just typed: “Just need a rough, deep session tonight.” Five minutes later, my screen lit up. But it wasn't a message from Chloe. It was from my cold, untouchable Alpha boss. “Send location.”