Stolas Outfit Novels & Stories

Josephine Carter is drowning. Her mother’s medical bills are piling up, her bank account is a disaster, and the only professional outfit she owns is her mother’s ancient pantsuit. Becoming a surrogate is her last chance to save the one person she loves most. But on the morning of her evaluation, Jo crashes her tank‑of‑a‑sedan into a shiny red sports car owned by the rudest, most arrogant, most unfairly handsome man she’s ever met. She yells at him. He yells back. She runs away.Then she finds out she’s going to carry his child. Derek Blackwell—Alpha of the Blackwell Pack, billionaire, and the agency’s most sought‑after client—is looking for a surrogate. Not for just any child. For the child he was meant to have with his late mate. His wife died of a rare illness after a lifetime of fighting it. They never mated, never completed the bond, never had the chance to start the family they dreamed of. But she froze her eggs before she passed, leaving Derek with one final piece of her… and one impossible choice. He needs an heir. But he can’t bring himself to choose another mate. Not when his heart still belongs to the woman he lost. And fate, in all its twisted humour, has matched him with the chaotic woman who dented his car and insulted him in traffic. Now Jo has to convince the Alpha she accidentally assaulted that she’s responsible enough to carry his child. And Derek has to decide whether the woman who crashed into his life might be the only one strong enough to carry his future.The contract is simple. The emotions are not. And the line between enemies, partners, and something dangerously close to destiny is getting thinner every day.

Every bonding anniversary, Shawn would bring home a new human girl from the outside—always under the lovely pretense of letting me mentor her on how to serve an Alpha. On our seventh anniversary, he brought back a nightclub girl dressed in a Princess Snow White outfit—cheap satin trembling under the chandelier's light. “She doesn’t have anything appropriate for an occasion like this,” he said casually. “Let her borrow your bonding dress. And the jewelry I gave you last time. As for shoes—what you're wearing now will do.” Then he added, with a trace of irony, “She’s just a young human girl, clueless. Teach her a few things about our world, will you? Especially the part about the bed.” Everyone was waiting for the spectacle—for me to break again, as I always had. And I didn’t disappoint them. I looked at Shawn, my voice steady, and said I wanted a bond-severance. He laughed—short and sharp—and leaned back like he was watching a comedy. “Clara, when are you going to stop with this bond-severance nonsense? I’ve heard it so many times. They’re just human girls, while you are my Luna. How could they ever compare to you?” Then, grinning as if doing me a favor, he added, “Fine. If you really want a bond-severance, I’ll gift you a territory in the south. Consider it a reward for doing your job as my Luna.” The room erupted in laughter. To them, I was ridiculous—greedy, jealous, hysterical. But what they didn’t know was that this was the 365th time I’d asked for a bond-severance. And the first time, I truly meant it. When he found out I wasn’t joking this time, he lost his composure. He searched for me across the world—only after he realized I was no longer where he thought I’d always be.