Gluttonous Monsters

Hi there. Have you ever heard of the San Francisco Boys? No? That’s surprising. They’re kind of hard to miss — masks, billions of followers on YouTube, death-defying stunts that make your heart stop mid-beat. Reckless. Untouchable. Addictive to watch. Yeah … those guys. BUT … these stories ain’t really about them. Not exactly. They’re about the girls who get pulled into their chaos … and survive. About what happens when one of those boys stops being a legend… and becomes your worst mistake. How do I know? Because I’m one of those girls. Melaena Angélica Blackburn. A girl who fell for a San Francisco boy. Damion Grimm. All-time playboy. Professional pain in my ass. Double world champion. Thrill chaser with a death wish and a god complex. He lives by the rules — HIS rules. Ride hard. Screw fast. Feel nothing. That’s how he keeps his demons on a leash. He doesn’t do blondes. He doesn’t do promises. And he sure as hell doesn’t do me — his best friend’s little sister. He shattered me first. And I’ve hated him ever since … or maybe I just needed a reason to. Because hate starts to feel a lot like something else when it burns hot enough. But … the Blackburn name is cursed. My psycho grandfather? Yeah. Even death didn’t shut him up. Old enemies crawl back. Secrets crack open. Monsters rise. And I've learned real fast that evil doesn’t always look like a monster. Sometimes it wears a familiar face. Control slips. Lines blur. Fate? She’s a cruel bitch. But I’m not the girl who breaks. I’m the one who burns. And I’m going to break every damn rule to get what I want.

She thought she had everything. A fated mate. A future. A home. Until it all came crashing down. He came back with another woman. A baby in her belly. And just like that, Elara was nothing. Framed for a crime she didn't commit, the only end for her was death. But fate isn’t done with her yet. A stranger steps out of the shadows. Not just any man—the Lycan King. Feared. Hated. Untouchable. Part demon. Part vampire. Part wolf. He doesn't save her, he claims her. Offers her a deal she can’t afford to refuse: Be his Luna for one year. She should’ve said no. But he’s cold fire and temptation wrapped in darkness. And when he touches her, it’s not just her body that trembles—it’s her soul. Now, she’s trapped between two monsters: The mate who wants her back… And the king who never plans to let her go. 🔥 Sneak Peek – Elara’s POV: “Tell me to stop,” he growled, his breath hot against my lips. “One-word, little wolf, and I’ll Walk away.” My heart pounded so hard I thought it might crack my ribs. I should say it. I should. But then he touched me—just a whisper of skin against skin—and the air vanished from my lungs. My mind screamed this is a mistake. But my body… my body had already decided. I leaned in, drawn to him like gravity itself had shifted. “I hate you,” I breathed, and it came out too soft, too broken. He gave me a look that made my knees weak. Dangerous. Hungry. “Then hate me,” he murmured, brushing his lips over mine, “while I make you forget every reason you ever did.”

Westbridge Academy is not a schoo‌l for humans, It is where alphas a‌re t‍r⁠aine⁠d, blo‍od‍line‌s ar‌e sharp⁠ened, and monsters learn to rule. Isla V⁠ale knows this⁠ better than anyo⁠ne but she disgu‌ised as “Eli,” a quiet scholarship boy e‌nrolled in an elite advance‍d‍ science program, Isla hides among werewolves, shifters, and oth⁠er supernatu‌ral elite‌s, m⁠asking her scen⁠t, her body, a⁠n‍d her fear every single day. Living in the dorm make things worse and one mi⁠stake could mean exposure. One‍ slip could mean death but West‍bridge is ruled by ins⁠tin‌cts no one ca‌n‌ fully control. Kiera‌n Blackthorne the academy’s golde‍n alph‍a heir i‍s everything Isla‍ should⁠ avoid dominant, teasing, danger‌ousl⁠y perceptive⁠. From‌ the⁠ momen‍t they meet, his atte‌nti‌on lingers too long, his ins⁠t‌i‌ncts pulling him toward someone he shouldn’t want. Then there is Fin‌n Ashcroft, a calm a‍nd observant b‍eta with a reputati⁠on on the⁠ b‌ask⁠etball co⁠urt, notices what ot‌hers miss. He becomes Isla’s anchor, h‍er protect‍or and possibly the first to s‍uspect that “Eli” is hiding m‍ore t⁠han j‍ust secrets‌. As ri⁠valries‍ ign⁠it⁠e, rumors spread, and wol⁠f instincts sharpen, Isla is pulled in‍to a vola‍tile triangle of attra‌ction, j‍ealo‌usy, and dange‌r. Every⁠ close call brings her nea⁠re⁠r to discovery and every heart⁠beat risks awakening i‌nstinct‍s that cou‌ld expose her human⁠ity.‌ Whe⁠n the truth finally comes out t‍o the worst⁠ p‌o‌ssible people Westbridge erupts. Because humans were n‍ever meant to l⁠ive among w‍olves an‌d wolves do not for⁠give deception eas‍ily.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,