Conan Clothing Novels & Stories

As beautiful and desirable as Jenna is, she cannot be my mate. I break eye contact and turn to dismiss the crowd, determined to keep my distance from Jenna. As the crowds disperse, I begin to move towards the building, abandoned thousands of years ago by humans, a place that has become home. A shadow falls into step beside me, and I turn to regard them. It's my beta. Years older and more experienced, the beta had taught me all that I had needed to know after my father had been brutally killed in war. Even though he's my beta, I look up to him more than I'd care to admit. “The last thing I expected today was the announcement of a feast. I didn't know we had something to celebrate.” “It will be a small one,” I say, after I quickly turn. I am almost in my bedroom now, I have never been a prude, and I don't care that I am in the company of another, even though there's not a stitch of clothing on me. I move towards my wardrobe to make a selection, noting the dwindling collection in my closet. I really need to learn to shrug off my clothes before I turn, like the others do. “What shall we celebrate?” He asks, his eyes filled with curiosity. “The announcement of my mate,” I say, avoiding the wise eyes of my beta, a little afraid that if I were to make eye contact, he'd read the truth in them. “Your mate? Have you found her?” He asks, his voice tinged with excitement. “No.” I growl. I hate that I have to lie to my beta about this. But it's for the best. I am doing this for the pack. “Tonight, I, chose Violet as my mate

My company had arranged a wilderness survival retreat deep in the heart of Moonshadow Forest—a place where even seasoned wolves tread cautiously. That night, a sudden downpour ripped through the campsite, drenching the earth and filling the air with the thick scent of damp moss and shifting soil. I woke abruptly, the cold seeping into my bones. Instinctively, I reached out to the space beside me, seeking the warmth of my mate. Empty. A sharp pang of unease clawed at my chest. My wolf, dulled by the suppressant herbs I had taken to blend into human society, stirred restlessly. Fumbling in the darkness, I grabbed my phone and dialed Nigel. The line barely had time to connect before he emerged from the undergrowth—disheveled, breathless. His grip was iron-tight as he seized my wrist, pulling me downhill. His scent was sharp with adrenaline, but beneath it—something foreign, something wrong. We ran, my boots sinking into the mud. My keen vision caught glimpses of his rumpled clothing, the way his collar was misaligned—and the faint imprint of lips on his jaw. My pulse pounded in my ears. Betrayal. I wrenched my arm from his grasp, my claws itching to unsheathe despite the human form I forced myself to maintain. "Where were you?" My voice came out low, edged with the danger of a wolf barely leashed. The suppressants in my bloodstream faltered under the weight of my fury. The storm had driven everyone into their tents, leaving the clearing eerily silent as we reached the base of the mountain. But she was there. A woman stood beneath the flickering glow of the emergency lanterns, her hair tousled, her fingers gripping Nigel’s jacket as if it belonged to her. I knew her. The new intern. Her face held an unsettling resemblance to mine, as if the Moon Goddess herself had carved her from the shadows of my reflection. The realization struck like a silver dagger to my chest. Even the mate who had once sworn to fight the world for me had given in to betr