Knox Draven didn’t last two minutes. His temper flared like a cornered wolf; he retaliated with a half-hour of futile counterattacks, eventually smashing Celestine’s carefully chosen device in pure rage.
My proxies reported back with precision. “Boss, unless they cut themselves off from the world entirely, we’ll keep at them like shadows. Three days of cursing guaranteed. Two days, twenty-three hours, five minutes remaining.”
Dedication and discipline. I could respect that. Background checks, timing, delivery-all accounted for.
I watched Aysel-Moonvale’s stubborn little wolf cub-eyes wide, sparkling with glee, absorbing every syllable. She had never encountered revenge so surgical, so relentless. And yet, she was thrilled. Her small, human heart radiated satisfaction like a beacon. For once, someone fought back on her behalf.
“Boss… amazing, truly amazing! Tell me, anything you want, I’ll make happen,” she said, practically bowing with adoration.
I stifled a laugh, recalling the many times she’d been impossibly loyal, impossibly insistent on following her whims. My hand jabbed at her forehead, playful but firm. Even now, she tried to knead at my injuries like some silly apprentice wolf.
“Best thing you can do now is keep your distance,” I warned, amber eyes narrowing.
“Got it!” she bounced three feet away, a blur of human exuberance.
I frowned. Wolves should respect boundaries-but somehow, watching her retreat left a sour taste.
“Never mind. Come patch me up.”
“Yes, sir!” she chirped, eyes gleaming with the thrill of proximity. Her hands were quick and eager as they trailed over my muscled torso. I caught her mid-motion and pinned her gently, letting her squirm and plead until I finally permitted her to retreat to her own quarters.
All night, she’d run my orders without hesitation-sharp, efficient, yet with that flicker of joy she couldn’t quite hide. My wolf saw it clearly: Aysel enjoyed watching her enemies kneel. She fed on the justice I delivered, on the humiliation of the once-proud Vales. And yes-the one million credits only made her satisfaction sweeter.
But when the work ended, the real torment began.
We had traded rooms for the night-her idea. She’d insisted I take the bed inside, while she slept out on the narrow couch by the fire. I hadn’t argued. It seemed harmless enough.
Until I lay down.
Her scent was everywhere.
Wildflowers after rain. Clean linen. Wolf musk so faint it threaded under my skin instead of across it. Every breath filled me with it, every shift of fabric carried her warmth. The bed was soft, alive-hers.
My control frayed. Muscles tensed. Heart hammered. The room felt too small for everything I was trying not to feel.
I should never have agreed to this.
Finally, I pushed off the mattress, the decision made. I would carry her to the bed and take the couch myself. Distance-that was the only cure for this ache clawing at the edges of reason.
But when I bent to lift her, her hand found me in the dark.
She murmured something broken and impossibly tender-“Grandmother…”-and her arms wrapped around me like a vine seeking warmth. Her cheek brushed my throat, soft and trusting, unaware of the storm she’d just unleashed.
For a heartbeat, everything stilled.
I-Magnus Sanchez, Alpha of the Shadowbane Pack, predator, ruler, executioner-stood frozen, pulse thundering, caught between instinct and mercy.
The wolf inside me wanted to pull away, but the man… the man stayed.
And so I did not move.
I stood there in the dim light, her breath feathering against my skin, her scent flooding every corner of restraint I had left-and for the first time in years, I didn’t know which part of me she was saving, and which she was destroying.
Aysel’s POV
The scream tore through the dawn silence.
Mine.
Before I could scramble away, a heavy arm locked around my waist, dragging me back into the solid wall of muscle and heat behind me.
“What are you yelling for?” The voice against my ear was low, rough, and threaded with amusement. “Sleep a little longer.”
Sleep? My body was rigid, my heart pounding like a drum. The scent of him-cold steel, burnt cedar, and something darker-filled the air. It was the kind of scent that warned every sane wolf to run. But his arm didn’t loosen.
“You-why are you in my bed?” I hissed, shoving at his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain.
He cracked one eye open, silver flashing like the edge of a blade. “Correction, little Vale-you’re in my bed.”
My jaw dropped. “I was sleeping on the couch!”
“You wandered in yourself.” His voice was thick with sleep, lazy, unbothered. “Didn’t lock the door. You must have sleepwalked.”
“I don’t sleepwalk!”
“Apparently, you do.” He didn’t even bother pretending to care.
I twisted, trying to break free, but the more I moved, the tighter his arm became. A low rumble rolled in his chest, half warning, half instinct. And then-spirits above-he buried his face in the curve of my neck. His stubble scraped against my skin, rough and intimate, and his breath slid warm against the pulse at my throat.
My wolf bristled, heat sparking under my skin. Every nerve screamed danger. And yet… it wasn’t just fear that made my body tremble.
“Relax. Nothing happened,” he murmured, voice husky and close enough to taste.
“Then maybe stop acting like it did,” I managed, trying to sound composed even as my pulse betrayed me.
He ignored me entirely, like an Alpha dismissing an inferior wolf’s protest.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
“Magnus-“
He made a sound that might have been a growl or a sigh. “You said you owed me. Sleep beside me for a month-we’ll call it even.”
I blinked, staring at him like he’d just grown another head. “Excuse me?”
“Just sleep,” he said with infuriating calm. “No bite marks. No claiming.” His mouth curved lazily, dangerously. “Yet.”
I froze. Yet?
Saints of the Moon. Was he serious?
“Does no one teach you boundaries where you come from?” I snapped.
“Boundaries?” He finally opened both eyes, silver burning like moonlight through smoke. “I don’t have any.”
I almost choked. “You-you can’t just-“
“Can’t what?” he drawled. “Share a bed with a wolf who screams like she’s being murdered at sunrise?”
“I screamed because you were in my bed!”
“My bed,” he corrected smoothly, voice full of mock patience. “Try to keep up, little Vale.”
If I could have shifted right then, I would’ve happily bitten him.
“Don’t you have a mate or a girlfriend or something?” I asked instead, exasperation and disbelief warring inside me.
“No.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Single. Unmated. No she-wolf.”
“Then maybe ask if I do?”
That finally made him look at me-really look. The humor faded, replaced by something sharp and assessing. His hand slid up my waist, fingers tracing the line of my ribs.
“I don’t care if you did,” he said softly. “From today, you won’t.”
My breath caught. “You-what-?”
But he’d already closed his eyes again, like we hadn’t just crossed twelve kinds of moral lines.
I lay stiff in his arms, glaring at the ceiling, every muscle taut. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, his slow, steady breathing maddeningly calm. I’d known this man for less than a handful of days, and somehow I was already sharing his bed.
Damon Blackwood-the Alpha I’d spent nearly two decades beside-had never once even touched the edge of my sheets. Three years of love, and not a single morning like this.
Maybe that said everything.
Because with Magnus-whoever he really was-there was no pretending, no restraint, no walls. Just danger and something wild enough to make my wolf stir.
Fine. He wanted a pillow? He’d get one. For a month, I’d play along. Then I’d be gone.
He shifted suddenly, dragging me closer until my back was flush against his chest again. The weight of his arm pressed heavy around my waist, possessive. “Stop thinking,” he muttered against my hair. “It’s too early for that.”
I bit back a snort. “You don’t even know me.”
His lips brushed my temple-barely there, but enough to make my heart lurch. “You think I need to know you to keep you here?”
“You’re insane.”
He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. “So they tell me.”
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply