Twilight Haven

The notorious Alpha of the Black Wolf pack, Kellen Blackwood, is feared throughout the entire pack for his violent temper. Yet, everyone knows he adores his mate, Lilith Hayes. I am only an Omega, the lowest rank among werewolves, and I haven't awakened my wolf by the age of 18. Even though I became a laughingstock in the Black Wolf pack, Kellen still treats me as the love of his life. He always says I am as pure as moonlight, and he's willing to bow his head and surrender his pride for me. I believe him. Despite my family's objections, I become his mate. For five years, we have been together. He cherishes me like a priceless treasure. The Alpha Kellen, who shows no mercy outside, cooks meals for me and takes care of our home with his own hands. The fearsome leader, who never bows to anyone, gently lowers his head and shows deference to me. When my brother, Rex Hayes, breaks werewolf law, Kellen is the one who accompanies me to find someone who will testify for him. But on the day of the trial, the only person who can prove Rex's innocence, Ella Foster, is nowhere to be found. Rex is convicted of assault instead of being cleared for self-defense. The moment Rex is found guilty, Kellen is the first to stand and applaud in agreement. I lose control and run to confront Ella, demanding to know why she turned her back on us at the last moment. Ella clutches her stomach, tears rolling down her face, her voice trembling as she says, "Rex really is at fault. I can't just stand by and let my father be blamed for something he didn't do!" I stand there in shock, and then Kellen appears behind me. "Lilith, Ella is pregnant with my pup. I can't let anything happen to the pup she's carrying. Rex's punishment is exile to the Frozen Wastes. Compared to everything Ella has lost, that's already merciful."

On the seventh year after we moved overseas, my 13-year-old daughter, Anna Jackman, is hailed as the internationally renowned piano prodigy. No matter how difficult the song is, Anna is capable of weaving beautiful melodies with it. But there's only one song that Anna refuses to play. It's a seemingly ordinary lullaby. She's worried that she might end up forgiving that despicable man again once she plays it on the piano. So, when said man, Micah Jackman, turns up on our doorstep with a piano that's handcrafted by a master craftsman and asks Anna to play him the lullaby, she just shakes her head calmly in return. "I don't know how to play that song, sir." Micah's eyes redden immediately. He grabs Anna's hand and navigates it to the piano keys. "That's impossible! Aren't you a piano prodigy, Anna? Haven't you always wanted to have a piano of your own? I've already bought you your own piano this time! From now on, if you have any wishes, you should tell me, and I'll grant them for you." Anna draws back her right hand coldly. "It's fine, sir. I can earn my own money to buy my own piano. You should take the piano back to your daughter." Micah feels as though his heart has plunged into the abyss. He immediately pulls Anna into his arms. "What are you talking about, Anna? You're my only daughter!" But Anna looks a little puzzled. "Didn't you say that Ms. Sinclair's daughter is the only one worthy of becoming your child? Didn't you give the piano you promised for me to Ms. Sinclair's daughter?" Having reached that point, Anna just smiles nonchalantly at Micah. "It's fine, sir. Since you like Ms. Sinclair, you can just raise her daughter. I'm already content enough with Mom by my side."

His gaze met mine, intense and possessive, his lips just an inch away as his lips left my nipple. “Say it, Erica,” he commanded, voice rough. “Say that you belong to me.” I swallowed, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might drown out my thoughts. He held me tightly, his fingers pressing into my skin as if trying to claim every inch of me, refusing to let me escape. “I... I don’t,” I whispered, my voice barely steady, the denial weak even to my own ears. He gave me a dark smile, then continued, his mouth finding my other breast. He sucked lightly, his other hand gripping my waist, making it clear he didn’t plan on letting go. His tongue drew imaginary circles around my nipple, his teeth nipping at my sensitive bud before he sucked it whole again like a starved man. “You don’t?” he murmured against my skin. “Then why haven’t you stopped me?” I opened my mouth to protest, but only a soft sound escaped, my hands tightening on his shoulders as he kept pushing, each suck and touch breaking down my defenses. I let out an ear splitting moan, “Raffael please…” *********** Erica’s world is shattered when she’s forced into a dangerous deal with Raffael Greco, the ruthless crime boss who now owns her. By day, she’s his maid, and by night, she works in his strip club—her body no longer her own. Drawn to the ruthless man who both torments and ignites her, Erica can’t resist the tension simmering between them. Raffael, obsessed with controlling her, finds himself slowly losing control instead. Can Erica survive being Raffael's sinful desire, or will his desires destroy her before she can escape?

During the two months that I was away for a competition, my neighbors insulted me in the neighborhood’s common group chat. [The girl living on the ninth floor, you look like a decent girl. Why are you bringing so many men back home every day?] [Can you moan a little softer? I don’t care if you’re a sex worker, but if you keep making loud noises until midnight, don’t blame me for calling the police!] [Don’t call the police yet. I haven’t had my turn. How much are you charging, Charlene?] My heart sank. Before I left for my competition, I had asked my boyfriend, Jacob Smith, to take care of my luxury river-view apartment. That way, he could keep an eye on my expensive paintings. What was happening? I rushed home in confusion, but when I opened the door, I was further dumbfounded. My 3,000-square-foot apartment had been partitioned into 30 rooms. Meanwhile, Jacob’s childhood friend, Prissy Black, was holding a string of keys as she collected rent money. When they saw me, everyone started laughing. “What? Are you here to rent from Prissy after learning that she’s providing cheap rooms in such a pristine location? “Too bad everyone knows that you’re eyeing her boyfriend. You won’t be able to benefit from doing such a thing!” I was extremely furious as I approached Jacob to talk about it. However, he told me that it was Prissy’s dream to be a landlady. He asked me not to pay it any mind and to treat it as doing a good deed. “You’re rich anyway. Don’t be so calculative. Everyone’s happy now, so what’s wrong with that?” The keys tinkled in Prissy’s hand as if they were taunting me. “This house doesn’t welcome stray animals like you. You have yourself to blame for not having such a nice boyfriend.” The two of them acted all lovey-dovey in front of me, and I immediately called the police. “Someone’s trespassing on my property, and my painting that’s worth 15 million dollars has gone missing. What type of punishment would this entail?”

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

At the banquet hall, I refuse to let my adopted twin pups eat the walnut cake. Ivana Lamont—the childhood sweetheart of my mate, Luther Hardwick—chokes up dramatically. She cries accusingly, "Yara, they may not be yours biologically, but you can't abuse them! Why won't you even let them have a slice of cake?" I'm just about to explain that the twins are allergic to nuts, but they point at me and complain in aggrieved voices. "Mommy often doesn't give us food. We never have enough to eat!" With that, I'm unceremoniously driven out of the banquet hall by the host. When I go to look for my mate to talk about it, I accidentally overhear his conversation with a friend. "Alpha Luther, it's been eight years. Are you still not going to mark Yara?" "There's no rush. I'll wait until the kids are a little older. We love each other very much, so it's fine even if I don't mark her." His friend responds disapprovingly, "You've been hiding from her that the twins are actually your and Ivana's pups. Aren't you afraid she may leave in anger if she finds out?" Luther shakes his head and replies with certainty, "She won't. Yara is an orphan, so she has no family. If she leaves me, where else can she go?" The ugly truth causes me to freeze on the spot. It turns out the pups I've loved for eight years were born to my mate and another she-wolf. What I thought was a happy life is nothing but a cold, heartless deception! I touch my belly, thinking of the pup I just conceived. My tears fall like a relentless downpour. In the shadows, I say inaudibly, "You're wrong, Luther. In fact, I found my birth parents three days ago. I just haven't had the chance to tell you. But it doesn't matter now because you don't need to know about that anymore." I have Luther sign the mate bond dissolution agreement before finalizing my withdrawal from the Sharp Teeth pack. Two days later, I give both my mate and the pups to Ivana. With the pup that Luther has never known or laid his eyes on, I disappear from his world forever.