Atonement A Novel Novels & Stories

“Do you wish you’d never taken the case?” This is the barren terror that had been with him always before Anton. “Gray, grinding purpose of atonement. It had been a surprise, a shock, the unexpected draw that had been there from the moment he had met Anton in the penthouse, a fortress of steel and glass, the loneliest man he’d ever met.” “No,” Sabatine whispered.

I sat there, trying to figure out what to do next. This was not just any ordinary casino, it was a symbol of betrayal, a sign that someone in my crew had gone behind my back to start a business without my knowledge. I watched as people walked in and out of the establishment, laughing and going about their business. The coldness of the night was a reflection of the anger and frustration I felt inside. I was used to having the upper hand, but now I felt like I was losing it. I had always trusted my crew, but now I was questioning everyone's loyalty. This was a clear act of betrayal, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“Not intentionally. With the way I grew up, it wasn’t like people were dying to take me out.” Amy held my hand, and her face turned dead serious. “A virgin? I so didn’t see that, but don’t worry. We’re going to get you laid.” Atlas picked just that moment to walk back in the door, and I froze. His grip on the handle began to bend the metal, and the low growl rumbling from him turned my insides upside down. Fuck.Why did I find his asshole-ness so damned attractive? Stupid bond. Yeah, I could totally blame this fiasco on the mate bond and not all the dirty novels the coven had hoarded away from when supernatural romance books had been considered fiction instead of fact.

Real breaking and rebuilding. She stayed there. Impaled. Connected. Feeling him inside her. Her choice. Her gift. Her—hers. Atlas held her hips. Grounding her through it. His own tears falling. And felt his own tears fall. For her. For this. For—for the beauty of choice after violation. Of reclamation after degradation. Of—of Novalee coming back. Then slowly she lifted off. Turned to face him. Collapsed into his arms on the mats. "Mine," she whispered. "All mine. I gave them. Chose them. Reclaimed them. Not his. Mine. Mine to give. Mine to choose. Mine."

"We must finish what we started." ------ The fire in the sanctuary had long been quenched, but its ashes still whispered stories to the wind—stories of sacrifice, betrayal, love, and redemption. Now, with the weight of the past behind them, Isabella and Arthur stood as unwavering beacons of resilience. Back in the village, the church had undergone another transformation. Walls were repainted not just with colour, but with prayers. The pulpit, once defiled by Elder Gideon's corrupted messages, now echoed truth. In every sermon, Arthur’s voice rang clear, anchored in grace and strength.

If marrying Lucas Hayes was the price I had to pay to stay in New York long enough to find the person who murdered him, then I would pay it. No matter how much I hated the groom waiting at the altar. Eleanor sighed. “I wish things were different.” “Me too,” I said, and she smiled at me before taking the bouquet from the table and handing it over to me. “Miss Lancaster?” one of the wedding coordinators called from outside. “It's time.” My stomach twisted, and Eleanor nodded at me, reassuring me. ***** The chapel was already filled by the time we arrived. Luxury cars lined both sides of the street while reporters crowded behind the barricades outside.

Ronan's POV: I sat in the council room, listening as the pack leaders reported another wave of illness—pups dying, wolves growing weak. One of the elders announced quietly that an Atoner would be sacrificed tonight to restore balance. Elder Dominic said, "The reports from the infirmary are worse than yesterday, Alpha." His voice was dry and grated on my nerves. The old man tapped his finger on a map of the Silver-Grip territory. "Three more pups were born still. Two warriors collapsed during training this morning. Their wolves are just fading away."

“That’s actually a wonderful idea. Amber, you’ll be with Atlas for the week then. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you.” Wonderful? Take good care of me? Why did I have such horrible luck? Charles smiled. “That would be very kind of you, Atlas.” Atlas’s gaze never left mine. “Happy to help.” I forced a tight smile that probably looked more like a threat. “Great,” I said sweetly. I prayed internally. ‘Please God don’t let me end up with a murder charge before this wedding even happens.’ #