The Argent Novels & Stories

BLURB One curse. One survivor. One bond strong enough to break bloodlines. When Elysia D’Argent’s coven was slaughtered by the werewolf Alpha’s army, she swore vengeance. Years later, she infiltrates the palace of the cursed Alpha, Alaric Varyn, to finish what her mother’s dying curse began. But when her dagger hovers above his heart, the unthinkable happens—he wakes, captures her, and she does not die. For a man whose touch kills any woman who comes near, her survival is both miracle and temptation. Alaric knows she is hiding something, yet her immunity to his curse may be the key to breaking it. He offers her a choice—exposure and death, or life as his mistress under his command. Bound by danger and desire, they enter an arrangement that blurs the lines between hate and hunger. But as secrets unravel and feelings take root, Elysia discovers a truth far crueler than any curse: the Alpha she meant to destroy is not the monster his father was. And when enemies rise again to finish the war their ancestors began, love becomes their only rebellion. In a realm where magic and blood are bound, their passion will either end the curse or consume them both

-Je ne veux pas d'une relation en ce moment. -Qui t'a parlé de relation?minaude Elyn au creux de son oreille qu'elle mordille au passage. Laisse-moi m'occuper de toi. -C'est vraiment ce que tu veux? lui demande Hendrick. À une seule condition. ajoute-t-il sans attendre de réponse. -Laquelle? demande Elyn intriguée. -Ce sera juste charnel entre nous. Pas de place pour les sentiments, encore moins pour l'amour. Elle déglutit devant autant de froideur dans sa voix. -Marché conclut. ***** Planté devant l'autel le jour de son mariage, Hendrick atterit dans un bar pour faire passer sa frustration et sa colère, où il va faire la connaissance d'Elyn. Après des nuits passées ensembles, ils continuent à se voir chacun dans un but précis. Elyn; pour de l'argent parce qu'il est juste un client, et Hendrick pour le plaisir. Mais est-ce vraiment juste du sexe entre eux ou l'amour s'en est mêlé? Une seule règle, pas de place pour les sentiments, encore moins pour l'amour...

My back hit the cold wall of the Alpha’s packhouse, my breath hitched in my throat as the triplets closed in—Asher, Alaric, and Argent. Asher leaned in first, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Sign the contract, Alisha,” he growled. “You’re ours. Your body, soul, and every filthy little sound you make.” I swallowed hard as Alaric’s fingers traced a circle around my swollen areola in an infuriating slow-mo. “See, your body is already responding, stop pretending you don’t want to be ruined by us.” Argent stepped in last, his hand skimming under the hem of my dress. “You’re trembling, sweetheart. Not from fear… but from need. Say the word, and we’ll own every inch of you.” “And if I say no?” my voice was shaky as I bit down the moan crawling up my throat. The three of them exchanged glances and then turned to me. And like a rehearsed lyric, they all unisoned. “Then we make you beg on your knees. And we won’t stop until you forget your own name… just ours.” Asher grabbed my chin, tilting it up. “Last chance, sweetheart. Safe word or surrender.” My lips parted. “I surrender.” That was all they needed. Alaric was behind me instantly, lips on my neck, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other dragging the strap of my dress down torturously slow. “Good girl,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re ours now.” •••••••• This is not just a love story. It’s survival. And it starts with rejection…