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Everything was planned. Zane, who had been burdened by misunderstanding and isolation, had walked straight into the trap alone. Consequently, I pushed forward until the trees opened into a small clearing, and there he was. Zane had collapsed at the center of a glowing crimson formation etched into the ground, with ancient symbols burning faintly around him. Deep gashes tore across his chest and side, as if the very earth had rejected him. His wolf aura, once overwhelming and fierce, now flickered like a dying flame.

I slipped into a soft white robe that barely reached my thighs and left my hair loose and damp around my shoulders. Then I opened the connecting door between our rooms. Zade’s room was dimly lit, just one lamp on beside the bed. He was lying back against the pillows, shirtless, reading a book. The sheets were pulled low on his hips, and the sight of his bare chest and the strong lines of his stomach made my mouth go dry. He looked up when he heard the door, and his face broke into a slow, easy smile that reached his eyes. “Hey, baby,” he said, setting the book aside on the nightstand.

Watch out for “Striking Blow.” (Strike Zone Book #2) This is Pearl and Antonio’s story. Filled with international intrigue and subterfuge. Striking Blow Colombo. Sri Lanka. Pearl needed directions—a map—a freaking GPS back to herself. Finding her worth again meant starting with a physical transformation. For starters, the blonde princess staring back at her in the mirror wasn’t real, and it was time to pack “socialite barbie” away in a dark drawer; time to step away from the two-hundred-dollar haircut and her designer lifestyle.

She looks at me with her beautiful blue eyes… Focus Noah, you need to reassure her. “Jane tell us all honestly what you want. You can stay here with your parents at the Forest pack or you can come with me to the Blackmoon pack. It’s up to you, either way I will honor you decision.” Jane looks at me and then at her parents, she takes some deep breath and without a stutter she starts to talk towards us all. “I made my decision and to make sure no one can stop me… She looks at me and she stares in Roans’ eyes. “ I Jane Burns hereby declare no longer being a member of the Forest pack.” She turns over and looks me in the eyes.

My Uncle Built Me The training grounds are empty before dawn. Just cold metal bleachers and the weight in my chest that will not lift. Uncle Nathan designed me. Not like family. Like a blueprint. Every rejection after the crash. Every door that closed. The path that led me to Diane. To Iron Valley. To wolves. None of it was accident. All of it was engineered to activate my markers. I should be angry. I was angry. But somewhere between the compound and this morning, the rage burned itself out. What sits in my chest now is colder. Harder. The clarity that comes from realizing you were never unlucky.

"Not amused. What would you like to have? I'll order for it," "Another cup of coffee; no sugar, no creme," Shola replied, her eyes not moving away from the book she was reading. Solano just stared at her, amused. He ripped the book from her hand and moved a few feet away from the bed, "Why are you reading a cheesy romance novel?" He waved the book playfully in the air. "Uhh, because I'm bored and not willing to die from it. Give me back my book Solano," "Am not stopping you from getting it, now am I?" He grinned maliciously,

Terrence took the books from Zane before he could stop him, annoyed as he looked at the titles. “All of these are relationship books,” Terrence said slowly, raising his eyebrow as he looked at the big one about how to romance a woman. “Yeah? So what?” Zane snapped and took the books back angrily. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Blake said, sounding a bit hurt. “I’m not,” Zane admitted. “Then why the books?” Marcus asked curiously. Zane wasn’t going to let his brothers make him feel foolish for buying self-help books. At least he knew he needed help. Terrence had been lucky to get a wife like Christine, and Blake and Marcus were too busy with work to care about anything except hookin

My hand instinctively moved between my thighs, gently rubbing my sensitive clit as memories of Zane destroying me flooded my mind. The bathroom door suddenly opened. I froze. Zane stepped inside, still fully dressed, holding a stack of my books he’d 'borrowed' earlier. His steel-grey eyes immediately darkened as they landed on my wet, naked body behind the glass. "Fuck…" he muttered, dropping the books on the counter without caring where they landed. "Zane..." I started, but he was already stripping. His shirt came off, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. Then his pants dropped, and his massive, thick cock sprang free, already rock hard and angry.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Without another word, Zane completely dismissed Andrew’s existence. He turned on his heel and began to slowly walk around our ruined living room, his sharp, golden eyes scrutinizing every single surface. He dragged a gloved finger over a charred bookshelf, picked up a broken piece of pottery, and overturned a burnt cushion, searching for clues with an irritatingly calm demeanor.

“E ‘di don't! I'm not the one who will be stink. Stay away from Shenay and me, you crazy! I don't like the smell of you! ” His eyes widened as it sniffed himself. Crazy! "I am not stinky!" He don’t seem to believe it yet. Well, he doesn't really stink, his scent that she can still smell even from afar. She didn't know if her friends couldn't smell it. "If you say so ..." Phoebe lay down next to Shenay. She was playing with a doll she bought for her. “Mr. Sawyer Zane.” "Tsk!" She heard the door open and close. A few seconds ago it reopened and closed again.