Rafe X Reader Novels & Stories

Also, their soap-slick fingers traced welts from couch friction. Eli wore a tight brief against his semi-hard dick; Noah mirrored him, the fabric outlining his thicker length. They knocked on Rafe's door at 8 sharp with pounding hearts. Rafe answered in jeans and a fitted tee, his tattoos peeking at the collar while his smile was predatory. “Good boys. Come in.” He added as his eyes dropped below. His apartment was a stark contrast to theirs—leather furniture, dim lamps, a wall of books on knots and psychology.

RAFAEL She's my mate. My curse. My cure. My fucking everything. -Rafael (Marked by Her). Readers, If you've read this far, please take a moment to share your thoughts about the story so far. Your words mean more than you know. I need all the encouragement I can get. And as for Rafael... I've come to love him. He wasn't the cold, heartless Alpha I once thought he was. He was just broken. And every broken soul deserves a Lila to help him heal.

And no matter how Dante dresses it up in love and sacrifice, I can’t shake the sick, creeping fear that in his game, I still am. My phone vibrates in my hand. I almost ignore it. Almost. Another headline, another stranger deciding who I belong to. I don’t think I can survive reading one more opinion about my life. But the screen lights anyway. A single message. Rafael. My pulse stutters. For a second, I just stare at his name like it might disappear if I breathe too hard. Then I opened it. There’s no greeting. No small talk. Just an attachment. Three files.

All of them are dangerous. “King Dartmouth always says you should make a splash if you’re going to be introducing yourself in his name,” the half wolf-shifter continues while I watch a vein I didn’t know Rafe had pulse in his forehead. My Rafe is angry. I see his hands forming into stone fists at his sides. “I’d say you’ve done that,” Rafe says evenly, indicating the bloodsoaked body.

Raffaele took a careful breath, his voice dropped into something that was supposed to be soothing and coaxing. “I scanned the reverse side before it was taken too,” he said. “It’s all here.” He tapped his wristwatch, and a glowing 3D projection of the tablet shimmered into view between us. I didn’t move. Just stared at him. He looked at me pleading, then asked gently, “Can you read it?” I crossed my arms, the fire still in my chest. “I can. Doesn’t mean I want to.” He nodded once, like he mabe deserved that.

"Cael. I want you to know that, from me. Not because you need to make peace with it or understand it or anything else. Just—he was someone worth being the daughter of." My throat did something complicated. I breathed through it. "Tell me something specific," I said. "Something you remember." Rafe was quiet for a moment, the amber eyes going somewhere internal. "He used to wake up at five in the morning and make terrible coffee and sit in the kitchen reading, and if you came down early enough he would lecture you about whatever he was reading with complete unapologetic enthusiasm regardless of whether you wanted to hear about it. The subject was always different. Roman engineering one week. M

Raven went to take a shower. Ralph sat dejectedly on the living room sofa, not knowing whether Raven had finished taking her shower. After ten minutes, he went upstairs, unable to sit alone anymore. He opened the door and walked inside. Raven was still in the en-suite and he stripped off his shirt and changed into a pair of sweatpants and lay on the bed waiting for her. He knew that she had asked him to sleep on the sofa but he didn't want to. He wanted to talk to her, to hold her. He would not go to the sofa. He wanted to know why she was shutting him out. Raven came out wearing a black lace camisole top and a pair of soft flannel hot pants. She was shocked to see a shirtless Ralph lying

before filling her and walking away without another word, leaving her trembling against warm metal. Rafe preferred the shower after a long run—sweat and road dust still on his skin. He’d drag her under the spray the second he stepped inside, pin her to the tiles, lift one of her legs over his hip, and thrust in deep while water pounded their bodies. He rarely spoke—just fucked her like he was punishing her for existing, for making him want her this badly. When he came he’d bite down on her shoulder—hard enough to mark—then wash her hair with rough tenderness before leaving her dripping against the wall.

He was shirtless, and I could see the marks of systematic torture carved into his skin—burns, cuts, symbols that looked disturbingly like the ritual markings I'd seen in Kelly's research. "Elias." My voice came out rougher than intended, still carrying the growl of my Ghost Wolf nature. His head lifted slowly, and his eyes— those eyes that sympathized with me before fear and duty had turned him into my tormentor—struggled to focus. "Racheal?" The word was barely a whisper, disbelieving. "You're... you're alive. You're—" His gaze took in my form, the silver energy still crackling around me, and something that might have been awe flickered across his face.

~ (Raziel) I was basking in the warm sunlight, admiring the vibrant greenery of my newly planted shrubs, when Raphael's urgent mind link shattered the serenity of the moment. The familiar sensation of his mental touch was like a silver wave crashing over me, and I could sense the desperation emanating from him. His words tumbled into my mind, laced with a sense of panic. "I know this is going to sound insane, but I'm really in a bind and could use your guys' help... like right now."