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Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,067,859	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2067862}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:53	active	1567	Read <The Alpha King'sCurse> on the WhosNovel.👉👉👉	“I’ll get straight to the point. I need you to have my baby.” Jackson King watched the girl’s eyes widen as she looked from him to his Beta, Dylan. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. I thought you said you needed me to have your baby,” she chuckled. He could sense her unease the same way he could smell her arousal. She was drenched. Even without a wolf telling her she was his, her body knew it, and he hated that. He hated that he had to fight so hard with his beast to stop it from claiming what was rightfully his. He hated the fact that he had to resort to this. She was half-human! Why would the Moon-Goddess curse him like this on top of everything else? He’d caught her scent even before he had walked into the hotel days before, and now it filled the entire suite, taunting him, reminding him how fucked up everything was. “I did,” he answered. “I need a surrogate, and I will pay you handsomely.” “Um... I’ve just walked into this room to clean. You don’t know me; you don't even know my name,” she said. “Layla Carlisle.” Layla looked down at the name tag on her uniform. She covered it briefly before she probably realised it was useless and lowered her hand. But he didn’t need her name tag to know who she was. “Twenty-one years old. High school dropout. You live in a trailer with your father and sister.” Layla’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he sensed her anger. “Have you been stalking me?” she hissed. Dylan snickered. He gave his Beta a look that shut him up before he returned his attention to the human. “No, I haven’t been stalking you,” he said, but he could tell he had already lost the momentum. Layla's anger had grown at an alarming rate, eclipsing even the sweet scent of her arousal. The human stood and smoothed her uniform before she lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. His beast unfurled, his excitement rippling through him at the thought of accepting his mate’s challenge. “I don’t know why you two need to ask a stranger to have your baby, but I don’t think I will be right for the job. I wish you all the best, though,” Layla said. It took him a moment to realise what she meant as she walked over to her cleaning cart and started pulling it out of the room. This was the problem with humans. Feeling the pull of their bond wouldn't have been an issue if she’d had a wolf. He would have marked her the moment he had found her, and she would have been carrying his pup already. “Miss Carlisle, can we talk about this? You haven’t even heard what I’m willing to pay.” “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be your surrogate,” she answered firmly. “I’ll return later to clean your suite.” When she closed the door, he heard her mutter, “It’s always the handsome ones.” She thought he was crazy. And she was right—he lost more of his mind the longer he went without a child and the shorter his time on this earth got. “She thinks we’re gay, Jax,” Dylan pointed out as he sat in the spot she had vacated. “I got that,” he growled. “I don’t think she will change her mind,” Dylan said. “I don’t understand why you can’t pick someone from the pack and be done with it.” He would have had many children already if it had been that easy. Goddess knew how much he had tried. But Fate had messed that up for him, too, and made sure only one woman could carry his children. Only one woman could save them all—his mate. “I told you why.” At least as much as he could. Dylan was not only his Beta; he was also his only friend. Keeping the truth from him was essential. Keeping it from everyone was crucial. It was bad enough that they would have to accept his heir from a woman who was as useless as a human, but he could deal with that better than the panic that the truth would cause. He had no time to soothe anyone or deal with the packs that would circle his territory when they realised he was about to die. As the Alpha King, the repercussions would be astronomical. “I doubt any of our pack would assume they are the Queen just because they have your child. They can do a blood oath—” “Dylan, please,” he sighed as he stood and walked towards the drinks cabinet. It was still morning, but fuck it. He needed something to calm and stop himself from going after the human. To prevent himself from pinning her down and marking her while he buried himself deep inside her body. He closed his eyes as he tried not to imagine what that would feel like, but it was all his wolf wanted and all he could see. Every wolf he’d ever come across dreamed of being lucky enough to one day meet their mate, but he couldn’t understand why anyone would think this was a blessing. It was torture! “Okay. Pick another one if that girl doesn’t want to do it.” Cain growled in his head, ready to attack Dylan for even suggesting that, but he shoved his wolf back and focused on his drink. And just like that, his mind returned to a place he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to think of touching Layla or tasting her. He didn’t want to remember the scent of her arousal. Four days since he first caught Layla’s sweet scent, he was already acting like a lunatic. The first day felt like a gift from the Goddess. He was almost out of time, so finding his mate had given him hope. And then he had seen her. A half-blood. Half-human and cleaning up after everyone else. It felt like a punch in the nuts; he’d wanted to kill someone for this cruel joke. She was not worthy to carry his child; she was not worthy to be the one who saved them all. But there they were. There was no other choice. “Jax—” “Get more information on her. She’s human. You’ll find many weaknesses I can use,” he ordered. “She’s the one I’ve picked, so she’s the one I’ll have.” Layla would have his child one way or another, and then he could finally have some peace. Dylan felt the command in his words and stood up to do as he had ordered. When he sensed his Beta was far enough away from their suite, he picked up his glass and threw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces. If he told Dylan the truth, he would tie the girl up and offer her to him on a silver platter. But then his child would be a product of rape; that was the last thing he wanted. The child would be his legacy, the only thing left of him on this earth, and would carry his blood. He couldn’t taint the child before he had even conceived them. He was a bastard, but not that much. His child would be the best part of him. Layla would change her mind. Humans loved money, and this one, in particular, was drowning in debt. Why hadn’t she wanted to know how much he was offering her? He could solve all her problems in a day if she took his offer. That meant Dylan had to find something else he could use. Something she couldn’t refuse. The growl came louder in his head as his beast showed his displeasure. But he was in charge here, not Cain. They would do things his way, and at the end of it all, Layla could go back to her life because there was no future for them, even if she wasn’t a half-blood. ‘Find her. Mark her,’ Cain growled. ‘Be patient! She hasn’t got a wolf; she doesn’t even know we exist,’ he snapped as he picked up an entire bottle of alcohol and walked towards his bedroom. And marking her was out of the question. He didn’t stay at the Royal Hotel often even though he owned it and it was in his territory, but he was sure Layla hadn’t been around the last time he had been there. Her scent was all over the hotel as if she had marked it. Could anyone else smell it? Did they have that sweet, intoxicating scent turning them inside out? Making them drool? Making them think of nothing else except to claim her? One thing was certain now. If—no, when—Layla agreed to this, he would get her pregnant and then stay the hell away from her. He’d been hard for days, and her scent had made Cain unstable. He didn’t need that complication on top of everything else. Not when he had less than a year left to live. chapter 2 Did she have some sign on her head that said she was a pushover or desperate? Layla pushed the cart with more force than necessary until she was far enough away from the penthouse suite and then leaned against the wall. Her knees were still shaking, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the man’s words or the man himself. It surprised her she hadn’t fallen flat on her face when she’d made her righteous exit. The men were in the most expensive suite in the exclusive hotel; they didn’t need to ask a stranger to help them out. He might have somehow gotten a hold of some of her personal information, but everyone in Wolfdale knew about her. The kid abandoned by her mother. The kid who’d dropped out of school so she could work and take care of her little sister because their father was an alcoholic and a gambling addict. That didn’t mean she had no dignity left. She wouldn’t give up a child! Those men thought they could throw their money around like that, and she would agree just because she wasn’t like them, and that made her blood boil. But in her mind, she still saw the man naked and on top of her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel it. It was a shame he was gay because she was positive he would be great in bed. Her body was still on fire, still trying to get over the shock of coming face to face with such a perfect specimen of a man. A god. He looked like one. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Chiselled jawline, a short beard that probably cost more than her wages to maintain and silky, dark hair styled to look like he’d just rolled out of bed and didn’t give a fuck. He’d turned her knees to jelly and melted her panties in seconds without moving from his seat. Without even cracking a smile. She had never reacted so violently to anyone before. Why was it always the handsome ones that were batshit crazy? She pushed aside the disappointment. The cool wall slightly helped control her overheating body, but sweat still dripped down her back and cleavage. They were in the middle of a heatwave so intense even the hotel’s air conditioning system wasn’t helping. She’d been like that for a few days as if she was coming down with something for the first time in her life. But it was the stranger with the cold ice-blue eyes that had worked her up like that. She shouldn’t care about who he shared his bed with, but something inside her wanted to claw the other guy’s eyes out. It was so strong that she had to make a conscious effort to stop herself from returning to the room. Crazy. She was going crazy. “I don’t pay you to have unscheduled breaks, Layla.” Her eyes snapped open to see Andrea looking down her nose at her as usual. And it took a special kind of person to look down their nose at someone who towered over them. Andrea barely reached her chest. “I’m sorry, Miss Roberts,” she said, lowering her head. “I’m almost finished.” Her supervisor insisted on being called Miss Roberts since her promotion, as if that would make her more respectable. Everyone knew how she got that job. “You’re a mess,” Andrea said, wrinkling her nose. “And you smell. Clean yourself up and do something with that hair. We have important guests here today; I don’t have time to deal with you.” She self-consciously wiped the sweat on her forehead and patted her hair down, even though she knew it wouldn’t help. Her red, curly hair was just a giant unruly puff above her head, and her pale blue uniform had sweat stains under her armpits. Whatever sweat that wasn’t being sucked up by her hair was dripping down her face like crazy. Another reason why that stranger had to be out of his mind to make such an offer to her while she looked like that. Andrea turned and carried on down the hallway in her formal suit and high heels. Her manager did indeed look distracted today, so she supposed she had to be grateful for that because usually, she would have shouted at her and threatened to fire her at least a hundred times already. With a sigh, she put Andrea and the handsome stranger out of her mind as she continued cleaning. By the time she finally left the hotel that evening, she looked even worse, but she went out through the staff entrance and straight to her little car without bumping into Andrea again. There was a shower with her name on it at home. It took her almost half an hour to leave the nicer neighbourhoods and cross the tracks to hers. It was so cliched, but the wealthy had separated themselves from the rest of the residents. The difference was stark, but she was used to it. There was nothing shiny on her side, and all the cars were old bangers like hers. Everything needed fixing or was broken beyond repair. But she felt more at home there, even if she itched to leave the dump and discover what was beyond Wolfdale. She parked outside their old trailer home and sighed as she walked in. The TV was blaring, and her father lay on the couch, already passed out. She didn’t have to go near him to know he had been drinking again. The day’s mail was on the counter near the door, placed there where she wouldn’t miss it, and it was unopened even though it had her father’s name on it. Bills. Overdue bills. The stranger's offer popped back into her mind, but she pushed it away. She didn’t need to sell a piece of herself to pay the bills. She sighed again as she picked the mail up and headed for the tiny bedroom she shared with her sister. She carefully opened the creaky door in case Britney was asleep but saw her hunched over her books instead. A small smile formed on her lips. It was worth it. All the shit she had to do to feed her sister was worth it. Brit would forge a better life all by herself, away from this dump. And then she would finally be free, too. Layla felt like she’d hardly closed her eyes when her alarm went off. She always woke up early to make sure Brit didn’t forget to eat her breakfast before school. Her sister always did that, as if by skipping meals, she would lighten the load on her shoulders. There was hardly anything in the fridge, and she probably couldn’t do a proper grocery shop for a while with the bills she had to pay. A second job would have been great, but no one was hiring. Another pitfall of living in a small town in the middle of nowhere. She had to do her best until they could leave for greener pastures. And she couldn’t leave until Brit left for college. With a loud yawn, she took the eggs out and set about making an omelette for Brit with a couple of slices of toast. She’d just poured herself a cup of coffee when she noticed her father through the window. In just his pyjama bottoms, his long, brunette hair was a tangled mess, and his beard was weeks old. Her father didn’t care that the neighbours always saw him like this. He was pacing and seemed to be in a heated argument on the phone. He looked tense and had a scowl as he gestured with his free hand like the person on the other side could see him. What the hell had that man done now? She wouldn’t get involved. Gerald Carlisle hadn’t been a real father to them in a very long time. “Smells good.” She turned from the window to smile at her sister, who’d already dressed for school. Brit was the spitting image of their father with her brunette locks and hazel eyes. She was also the shortest in the family. People never believed they were sisters because she looked like a sasquatch beside Brit. “Aren’t you having any?” Brit asked. “No, I’ll eat at the hotel,” she lied. That was her excuse whenever she didn’t have enough money to feed all of them. Andrea never allowed them to take even a piece of fruit from the kitchen. Their father wrenched the door open and marched in. His large frame took up most of the space in the small kitchen. He didn’t even bother speaking to them as he went straight to the fridge and pulled a beer out. That was the one thing abundant in their house. When he just threw himself onto the one sofa they had in the house and put the TV on, Brit shook her head and stood. “I’m going to school,” she mumbled. Layla looked at the half-eaten omelette on Brit’s plate. “Finish your breakfast,” she said firmly. “I’ve lost my appetite,” Brit said as she walked to their bedroom. Layla couldn’t help glaring at the disgrace of a man who had already become engrossed in his program. Gerald acted like he was the only one in the family her mother had abandoned—he’d wasted eleven years pining over someone who didn’t want any of them. It made her furious, but she didn’t have to put up with him much longer. Brit mumbled a goodbye when she came out of their room with her school bag. “Wait.” She pulled some money out of her pocket and gave a few notes to Brit. It was supposed to have gone in the money jar she kept hidden for emergencies or to top up Brit’s college fund, but keeping her sister healthy was more important. She would find a way to replace it. “Layla_” “Take it. Have something to eat at school,” she insisted. She didn’t miss that Gerald had become very interested in that small exchange and would probably ask her for money, too. She finished Brit’s breakfast without giving him any attention before she went to shower and dress for work. She didn’t bother straightening her hair because it was still early morning, but the heat was already unbearable. At least the hotel washed their uniforms daily, so she didn’t have to worry about the sweat stains. She just tied her hair up into a neater puff and looked at herself in the small, cracked mirror in the corner of their cramped room. The inspection was brief because, unlike Brit, she was the image of her mother. Her green eyes were a shade she’d never seen on anyone else, and it was unnerving. The entire package made her feel like an outsider in her family. She reached for her bag and froze when she heard a crash and loud voices. Her heart hammered loudly, and her hands shook as she inched the door open to stop it from creaking before peeking out. A large man stood over her father, who he had smashed through their wooden coffee table. Gerald tried to get back to his feet, but the man punched him down again. She took a sharp breath when she saw how helpless her father was as he pleaded for mercy. What had he done now? “I already gave you several chances, Gerald,” another man said. He sat in her father’s spot on the chair. She could only see the back of his blond head, but it looked greasy and slicked back. Like a baddie out of a horrible B-grade horror movie. She wanted to slip out through her window and let her father suffer alone, but that stupid thing in her head reminded her he was still family. And this was Brit’s home; she couldn’t allow anything bad to happen here. With a calming breath, she opened the door wider and walked out of the bedroom. “I swear, I only need a little more time,” Gerald said. “I’m good for it this time.” “You said that last time,” the man said. As he stood, he looked back as if he had already known she was standing behind him. He was young, with a scar across his face that gave him a terrifying look. He wore a suit, but he had a gold tooth and chain around his neck like he really copied his sense of style from a terrible movie. She felt a cold shiver down her spine when he pulled his coloured sunglasses off his face, and his grey eyes looked over her body from top to bottom. Her skin crawled at the blatant violation. “Hello, Layla,” the man said. Great. A second stranger knew her name. When she didn’t answer, he laughed and looked back at her father. “You’re lucky this beautiful angel is here,” the man said. “I think you know what you can give me if you can’t pay up. I’ll be in touch.” The man turned back to her with another sinister grin before walking out, and the enormous man standing over her father followed. She waited until she heard their car drive off before she stormed to her father. “How much do you owe?” she hissed. “Not much. Just twenty grand.” Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she heard that figure. Not much? That amount would go a long way in sending Brit off to college. “How?! What did you do with such a large amount of money? You haven’t paid bills here or taken care of us in a long time!” Gerald gingerly sat back in his chair, ignoring the mess the men had made in the living room. “It was supposed to be a sure bet,” Gerald mumbled. “I would have paid off everything and then had enough to fix things.” Her blood went cold. Her father’s gambling had landed them in the trailer park to start with. “You said you would stop. You said you’d never gamble aga—” “Well, I lied,” Gerald snapped. “And I obviously can’t fix this myself, so you’ll have to think of your sister. I’ll give him what he wants and be done with it.” She remembered the look in the man’s eyes when he’d looked at her, and her meagre breakfast almost came back up. “And what’s that, Dad?” she whispered. “You. I’m going to give him you.” chapter 3 “You’re out of your damn mind if you think for one second that I’ll let you pimp me out!” Somewhere between her mother leaving him with two small girls to raise on his own and now, Gerald Carlisle must have lost his damn mind. Completely. “You go with him, or we all die. Simple as that,” her father said. “We don’t have to pay for your mistakes! I’ll take Brit and leave,” she snarled. “Brit is still seventeen, and I’m her father. You can’t take her anywhere,” Gerald said as he stood up again. Her father could be intimidating if he wanted to be. He had never been violent towards them, but she knew it wasn’t because he wasn’t capable of it. She had picked him up from the police station after many bar fights often enough to know the damage he could cause. And she could see the desperation in his hazel eyes as he approached her. “And I don’t see you dragging Brit out of school in her senior year when you want her to graduate,” Gerald continued. “And that’s what I want, too. Britney has a better chance than us to get out of this shit hole. She can make something of herself. But you, Layla... You’re a high school dropout. Scrubbing rich people’s toilets is all you’ll ever be good at. You might as well do this for your sister.” She sucked in her breath. His words cut her deep. Gerald had sliced her open and poured salt all over her wounds. “And whose fault is that?” she whispered. “Stop blaming me. You’re resourceful. If you’d wanted to stay in school, you would have found a way,” Gerald snarled. “Besides, you look just like your mother. I’m sure you’ll make more money on your back than at that hotel.” She gasped. Anger mixed with her pain as she turned away from her father and walked back to her bedroom. Tears fell to her cheeks, but she angrily wiped them away. She wouldn’t let her father ruin their plans. Her sister was the only good thing in her life—she would not let Gerald break her, too. She would pay the debt off herself if she had to. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d cleaned up Gerald’s messes. It would set them back, but at least Brit could still leave when she graduated. Layla stood and locked her door before easing her bed away from the wall. She pushed one of the square panels on the wall until it shifted enough for her to squeeze her fingers through and pull it open. And then nothing. There was nothing in the hole. Her jar... Her emergency fund was gone. Her anger overtook her pain as she stood and unlocked the door. She wrenched the door open with force and marched to the living room to stand in front of her father. “Where is it?” she growled. “You’re blocking the TV, Layla,” her father said with disinterest as he sipped a fresh beer. As if they hadn’t just had some wannabe gangsters threaten their lives. “Where is my money?” she asked, her voice shaky. Her chest was tight, and her breathing harsh. Her body trembled as fury mixed with despair. That jar was everything. All their hopes and dreams for the future. All their problems solved. And it was just gone. How could Gerald sink so low? How could a father... Gerald stopped mid-sip to look at her and then glanced away again. But the guilt was so apparent on his face. “I had to pay him something the first time he came,” he mumbled. All her strength sapped from her body, and her legs became too weak to hold her. She sank to the floor among the debris from the broken table, tears filling her eyes again as she looked at the man who could so casually throw such a bombshell on her. How could he rip their lives apart like this? Did they really not mean anything to him? No, they didn’t. They hadn’t meant anything to Gerald since their mother had left him. “I will not be a part of your mess,” she hissed as she stood up. “I will help you pay him back with money, not my body, only because I won’t let you taint Britney.” “And how will you help me? You earn peanuts,” Gerald sneered. “I earn something, which is more than I can say for you. Get a job and learn some principles. It’s not okay to sell your children!” She marched back to the bedroom to put everything back in place and pushed her pain to the back of her mind. It was a skill she had learned too early in her life so she could function. Her father would always be a disappointment. The best she could do was try to get Brit away from him, even if it meant leaving before she graduated. The stranger’s offer popped back into her mind. Shame filled her when she considered it a little longer than she should have. But she could do this without his help. She would have to ask for more hours at work— Work! Shit! She grabbed her bag and car keys and rushed out of the house without another word to her father. Being late would mean a warning, and she couldn’t risk this job, not now. Half an hour later, she snuck in through the staff entrance and thankfully found the staff room empty. By the time she’d changed into her uniform and work shoes, she was confident she could get away with this if no one saw her. But as she pushed her cart out of the cleaning closet, she found Andrea waiting outside, arms crossed and tapping her foot. “This is the second time this month, Layla.” Right. The first time her junk of a car had given up on her and she’d had to take a bus. She’d forgotten about that. This would be her second strike. One more, and she was out. “I’m so sorry, Miss Roberts. I had a family emergency.” “I don’t believe you. You could have called. You think you can waltz around the place and do whatever you want, but the world doesn’t revolve around you,” Andrea said as she pulled a notepad from her pocket. “The rest of us understand we have responsibilities here. This will be your last warning.” “Andrea_” “Miss Roberts,” Andrea hissed. “I understand you’re only twenty-one, Layla, but you must learn to be more responsible. Get to work.” She sighed. How could she ask for more hours if Andrea was on the warpath? Maybe she could pull it off if she gave her some time to cool off and tried at the end of the day. If that didn’t work, going over Andrea’s head to ask the manager directly would be her last option. Or she could walk around town after work to beg someone else to hire her part-time. She started working on autopilot, scrubbing a million toilets and cleaning up after the entitled guests of the exclusive hotel while her mind was lost in trying to find a solution. What kind of man would think selling their child was the best way out of their problems? What kind of man would demand that of somebody else? She didn’t know who this man who’d invaded their home was, but she knew she would never give herself to him. Just the thought of it was making her nauseous. A few hours later, she came up to the penthouse suite—the room where that handsome stranger had made the ridiculous request. There was too much to worry about that she hadn’t thought of him all day, but he filled her head completely the second she knocked on his door. And once again, her body started to react and overheat. There was no answer, thankfully. She didn’t know what to do if he made the same offer again. She unlocked the door, pushed her cart in, and had to stop and squeeze her thighs together when she caught a pleasant scent. It had to be his cologne. Spicy and masculine, just like he was. Her toes curled again, just remembering what he looked like. She’d only seen him for minutes, but his image seemed to have burnt into her head. But she had to get over it. He was gay. “Housekeeping,” she called out in case the two men hadn’t heard her. Maybe they were still in bed or in the shower. Again, the urge to claw the other man’s eyes out took her over. What the hell was wrong with her? She left the cart in the living area and entered the guest bathroom. The heat was worse than the day before, but it hadn’t bothered her much until she walked into the penthouse suite. One look in the mirror told her she would have to tidy herself up before she saw Andrea again. Strands of her hair had fallen out of her puff, and rivers of sweat were pouring down her face. Her uniform was beyond saving. It was a good thing the stranger wasn’t there to see all that mess. She splashed cold water on her face, but that didn’t even begin to cool her down. She looked longingly at the shower behind her and then the sunken tub. What she wouldn’t give to soak in a cool bath or stand under a cool spray. But she still had a million more rooms to clean, and showering in the guest rooms would be an automatic dismissal. She splashed more water on her face and then wet one of the clean face towels to cool her heated neck. That didn’t help much, either. She was on fire, and nothing would put the flames out. She wet the towel again as she undid all the buttons of her shirt and untucked it from her skirt. Then she placed the cool cloth on her chest. That was better. She sighed in relief when her body started to behave. If the heatwave didn’t break soon, she’d be a puddle on the floor. Half an hour later, she was considerably cooler and late to start the cleaning. There was nothing she could do about her sweaty uniform. At least she was invisible to the guests. All the clientele had money coming out of their eyeballs; the help was always invisible to people like that. She picked up the towels she’d used and walked out of the bathroom to her cleaning cart. And in walked the biggest man she had ever seen. He had been sitting when she’d first seen him, so she hadn’t realised how tall he was. She didn’t often meet people that much taller than her. Her body heated again as if she hadn’t just spent all her allocated time cooling herself down. She met that ice-blue gaze again, and her insides melted. He still looked as angry as he had when they had met—maybe that was his default expression. Maybe rich people looked at others like that because they assumed someone would ask them for money. But a shiver went down her spine at just how cold he was. Still, she didn’t look away. There was just something about him... Her heart drummed so loudly she could hear it. Something washed over her whole body that felt gentle and overwhelming at the same time. Her body hummed with a need that shocked her with its intensity. She’d been hot before, but now she was burning up, and that fire shot straight down to her core. “Why are you just standing there? Move out of the way.” Someone’s voice drifted into her ears. It took her a moment to realise that Mr. Sex-On-Legs’ boyfriend was standing next to him, and he looked at her just as coldly. What was with these people? Did they behave like assholes everywhere they went? The urge to attack him returned, but she knew the consequences would be even more significant than losing her job if she gave in. “Are you sure you want her?” the man continued, looking at her from top to bottom. “She can’t even follow simple instructions.” Her gaze returned to the ice-blue ones. The anger in them almost knocked her back. Was he upset that she had denied his illogical request? “Cover yourself up,” the sexy man growled. That voice again. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying something that would get her fired or arrested and squeezed her thighs together again. She couldn’t help herself. His full lips parted slightly as if he was breathing through his mouth, and his chest rose and fell as if he’d been running. He looked like he was close to ripping her head off. “Cover yourself up.” His words penetrated her lust-addled brain like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown on her. She looked down at her chest, remembering she had unbuttoned it to cool down. Everything was on display! She was bursting out of her old, lacy bra in front of strangers! Gasping, she clutched the shirt together and turned around. Her face heated, and she knew the colour would match her hair. “I was looking for you, Layla. Judging by this warm welcome, I take it you’ve changed your mind?” 🔥Reading more content about <The Alpha King'sCurse> on the WhosNovel.👇👇👇	INSTALL_MOBILE_APP	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.b	PadNovel Zy One	https://www.facebook.com/61555138762971/	2	1969-12-31 18:00	Install now	play.google.com	VIDEO		http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.book.padnovel	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461320508_1368860020546276_8163043103248466075_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Hb1_CbSJkjIQ7kNvgH0Dbky&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AH4DyWqOpGPUbqb56GK8SK6&oh=00_AYC6hbnXxd_OYkrrhRSZK6_sgzuvGL6BoD7UvS5RoHVKzQ&oe=67042283	PERSON_PROFILE	PadNovel Zy One	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,066,585	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2067319}'	No	2024-10-03 02:48	active	1567	Tiêu U XƠ U NANG tại nhà > Không Cần Mổ	U XƠ - U NANG càng trì hoãn càng Nguy Hiểm và hậu quả Nghiêm Trọng ❌ Không điều trị kịp thời rất dễ u.ng th.ư. - UNA MỘC ĐƠN xóa tan nỗi lo U XƠ - U NANG, U TUYẾN VÚ, U TUYẾN GIÁP, rong kinh, chậm kinh... - Ức chế sự phát triển của u xơ tử cung, u tuyến vú lành tính,... - Giúp hoạt huyết, điều hòa kinh nguyệt, giảm đau bụng kinh.. 🎁 Đặc biệt Phương Dung dành tặng ưu đãi Mua 1 tặng 1 cho 99 chị em nhanh nhất ⏩ Nhắn tin ngay để được CHUYÊN GIA tư vấn miễn phí và nhận ƯU ĐÃI từ Nghệ Sĩ Phương Dung nhé ! ☎ Hotline tổng đài trung tâm: 0936.429.33	MESSAGE_PAGE		Una Mộc Đơn - Số 1 Về Triệt Chân U Lành Tính	https://www.facebook.com/100093169913847/	229	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461716197_574547604937637_188009017719004487_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sgiBF_s6wqkQ7kNvgFfRQn1&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhywSMTUNKVZqc9_01VniYW&oh=00_AYAUdm1SE4HQsSmA11DAPsilMoziw6-8K8y1Z6hmfo-hWA&oe=6704254A	PERSON_PROFILE	Una Mộc Đơn - Triệt chân U XƠ U NANG	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,066,697	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-03 02:48	active	1567	Click to view the juicy series👉👉	Molly’s sister didn’t just swipe her boyfriend Connor—she also snatched her inheritance, leaving Molly high and dry. Fueled by alcohol and vengeance, Molly hatches a wild plan: seduce Connor’s attractive uncle, Adrian. Little does she know, her half-baked scheme works a little too well, because Adrian soon finds himself head over heels for Molly.	WATCH_MORE	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.s	DramaBox- movies&drama	https://www.facebook.com/DramaBoxMoviesDrama/	6,438,685	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	play.google.com	VIDEO		http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.storymatrix.drama	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461679117_26993771116934410_4887164314458148089_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PZbge-pirEIQ7kNvgEHsLBE&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUMbdpkF07MhiPQehg7qfKH&oh=00_AYDW6eNBD0EobWM63p292-bxhAkPv7zWfOqM8u6vAV1Tdw&oe=67040171	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox- movies&drama	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,067,719	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2067536}'	No	2024-10-03 02:53	active	1567	Want more chapter?🔞👉	“You’re soaked,” Alpha Aden groans, kneeling between my legs. My wolf is clawing and clawing at me, desperate for his touch. But I can’t… Because he’s my boyfriend’s father. * I’d just about given up hope on ever feeling my heat. By the time most she-wolves were my age, they’d already settled down and had at least one pup. Instead, I felt like I was dead inside until I met Hudson a few months ago. He ignites a spark in me, something I think could be more. My love life is looking up, and I think I’m finally ready to take the next step. Not just because things were…awakened…today. But because Hudson is perfect. He’s sexy, thoughtful, attentive…. We can talk for hours about the books we love. And when I said I didn’t want to go too far too fast, he was okay with that. He’s never pushed for more than kissing. When I told him I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, he was okay and didn’t try to make me feel guilty. It made me like him even more. Today…today I’m ready. And I’m going to tell him. I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look at him. Goddess, he’s handsome. Tall and muscular but not too bulky, and I love how his curly chestnut hair falls into his green eyes. Hudson catches me staring at him as he reads, looking up and flashing me that sexy, playful grin of his. He sticks a receipt between the pages to mark his place, sets the book beside him on the couch, and then shifts his body to turn toward me. “Whatcha thinkin’, lovely?” My cheeks flush. “Do you really want to know?” “Always,” Hudson replies, placing a warm hand on my leg right above my knee. “I think I’m ready.” All of the air leaves my lungs as I finally say the words. Hudson’s eyes widen, and his fingers tighten on my leg. Before he can answer, movement over his shoulder catches my eye. One of the biggest dudes I’ve ever seen is standing at the end of a row of books, staring at us. Intently. He looks…scary. There’s something about him that dings my radar, even though I’m used to seeing criminals in the prison. He’s well over six feet tall, and his professional suit does nothing to disguise how bulky he is. My eyes are drawn to the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. I sniff the air. Definitely a wolf shifter, too. So how does he have a scar like that? I can’t fathom what would have happened to permanently mark him like that. A shudder runs through me at the thought. “Hudson… There’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us,” I say quietly. Hudson turns to look directly at the brawny guy, and I want to sink into the floor when the guy starts walking toward us. “Don’t worry about him,” Hudson answers, frustration in his voice. “Hudson, he’s looking right at—” “He’s with me. That’s Preston. He’s…my bodyguard.” Hudson shoots a glare at the huge guy, his brow furrowing. The guys stops walking toward us. “He usually does a better job of keeping out of sight.” Wait, what? He needs a bodyguard? My eyes go to the fancy watch he’s wearing today. I’d always assumed it was a knock-off, but now I’m not so sure… The questions are stacking up, and my wolf is on edge. What else is Hudson hiding? And why has none of this ever come up before on our dates? More importantly, how did I miss all of this? I’m a trained professional. Reading people and evaluating them is literally my job right now. If I can’t even read my own boyfriend, how will I ever succeed in my chosen profession. My stomach twists. “Just ignore him. My dad gets overprotective.” Hudson rolls his eyes. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” He laughs, then winks at me playfully. I can tell the conversation is over and I’m not going to get anything else out of him. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Hudson’s apparent wealth and my poor grad student status. I’ve never met anyone who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Hudson and I look up at the barista smiling down at us, a handsome blond-haired guy with an apron tied around his waist. The guy’s timing couldn’t be worse. “No thanks, Chase,” I say, giving him a big grin at the same time Hudson smiles and says, “Can we both get refills?” “Oh, actually…” I look up at the clock and push my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Hudson says, rising from our sofa. He follows Chase back to the coffee counter to grab our drinks. I start to pack up my bag so I can grab the next train, when I notice Hudson’s phone vibrating on the table. When the number disappears, his home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I’m staring at the picture, the phone rings again—the same number. Must be important. I grab the phone and sling my bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. But there’s no one here. I look around, confused. I definitely just saw Chase and Hudson head this way… There’s a noise from the back room, a strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door. Maybe they both— Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend presses Chase up against the wall of the storage room. One fist is wrapped in the fabric of Chase’s shirt, the other down Chase’s pants. He’s kissing him passionately, hungrily. Chase’s eyes are closed, his hands fumbling at the button and zipper of Hudson’s pants—whispering my boyfriend’s name. My heart stops for a few seconds as I stare at the scene in front of me. Then, rage takes over—masking the hurt starting to unfurl in my chest. “Are you kidding me!?” I’m not even thinking as I chuck the phone at Hudson and his lover. The guys jump, leaping apart. “Brooklyn— I—” Hudson’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Brooklyn!” Hudson spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. If ever I forgot he was a male wolf more powerful than me, I’m reminded of his strength now. “I really like you,” he says, his eyes filled with apology. “You’re amazing… It’s just that my family wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “You know how some wolves are about this kind of thing. How some packs are. This…me and Chase… It’s complicated.” “So, what? You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!?” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please. I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million?” He pulls out his phone, and I see him tap on a banking app. “I don’t want your money.” Hudson blinks in confusion, and I turn away. “I’ll keep your secret, and you don’t need to pay me off. I just don’t want to see you again.” Just like that, my possible fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. My wolf, Lena, is struggling to take over. She wants to go back and tear Hudson to shreds. His bodyguard would probably keep that from happening, though. But a girl can dream. I manage to make it on the train in time, sinking onto the bench and closing my eyes. My head falls back to rest against the window, and I take deep, calming breaths to re-center myself. Today couldn’t have gone any worse. No wonder I’m still a virgin…my instincts were so off that I’ve been dating a gay man. Nope. Not gonna wallow. Lena chuffs in agreement. * Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my hands are resting on my paperwork in front of me, and my hair is tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves. I need to shift, to run off this excess energy, these raging emotions. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly tense about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far. Some human, some wolf, none of them dangerous. But today I have to make an assessment of Aden Kenwood. He’s not just a formidable wolf; he’s a mafia king, too. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his power are infamous in Grayling City. As a psychology grad student working on my real-life work assignments here at the prison, they typically assign me all of the easy psych evals. But the guy who handles the werewolf inmate evals is out today, and everyone else on staff is human. The last thing they are going to do is put a human in the room with such a notorious and dangerous wolf shifter. So…I’m up to bat. And the incident with Hudson? Not helping my nerves one bit. The hallway door clangs open, and I quickly stand, pulling down on the hem of my blazer to straighten it. This is by far the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Kenwood around the corner, and I’m surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this. He looks nothing like what I could have ever pictured. This man is muscular and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his orange prison uniform, the way that the guards flinch a little as they unlock the silver cuffs on his wrists. This is one powerful wolf shifter. No doubt about it. I can see why everyone fears him. His mere presence ignites something in me I’ve never felt before, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the rush of desire between my legs. I stifle a gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh goddess. Is this what a she-wolf’s heat feels like? I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh my god. I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today—on my boyfriend’s phone. And I’ve seen a younger version of him etched in the features of my boyfriend’s face. Hudson isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the mafia king. Aden I follow the guards to a cinder-block cell at the end of the hallway, noting that my lawyer is standing outside the door. He rolls his eyes at me and points at his watch, indicating that he’ll have me out of here in no time. I nod, then focus my attention on the door. I’m surprised to see a girl. No, not a girl. A young woman—twenty-three, at the most. She stands up, clearly anxious, biting her lip and playing with the long red ponytail that drifts over her shoulder. Her mouth falls open, just slightly, as she takes me in. God dammit. My body tenses at the sight of her—those long legs, knocked at the knees with anxiety, her short white skirt, that ridiculous blazer that she wears so people like me will take her seriously. If my wrists weren’t bound in silver, my canines would be dropping right now, my wolf anxious for a taste of her. I can tell from a single glance that she’s pure as the driven snow—ambitious but poor, eager to prove herself. My eyes rove over her… What would she look like if I ripped that unflattering blazer off her? I focus again on those red lips, slightly parted. My breath hisses from my mouth at the sight of those lips, at the thought of what I could do with them—of what I could make them do to me. There’s a low rumble in my chest as I hold back my growl, and my pants tighten as I get hard. “Um,” she says, hesitant. I snap my attention back to her jewel-blue eyes. “My name is Brooklyn Knox? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” I grit my teeth, denying the urge to smile slowly at the fact that her statements are presented as questions. God, she’s perfect, this little angel. The feral, leashed part of me wants to know what she’d look like with a little bit of the underworld’s grime smeared all over her. I want to ruin her, put her on her knees for me. I want to own her in every way imaginable, destroy her for any other man. They don’t call me a monster for nothing. “Hello, Brooklyn,” I say, my voice low and hungry as I move forward and settle into the chair across from her. “Where do we begin?”Brooklyn I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from Aden. He’s all feral wolf, and instead of feeling like the strong she-wolf I am, I feel like a doe waiting to feel his teeth sink into my neck for the kill. His wolf flares in his eyes as he stares at me, almost as if he could leap across the table at any moment and gobble me up. Images flash through my mind of my skirt hiked up around my waist while Aden Kenwood buries his face between my thighs, literally gobbling me up… I give myself a mental shake. Nope. This is Hudson’s father—mafia king, powerful shifter, and bad, bad news. That’s why Hudson has a bodyguard, that’s why he has so much money. I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Kenwood, realizing that this is also why Hudson is hiding his sexuality. Many of the powerful wolf packs and crimes families in Grayling City are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. A gay son would never be accepted in some packs—especially a son that is expected to provide an heir. I can’t imagine being Hudson…having to hide who I loved, pretending to love someone else. Pulling myself back to the here and now, I realize that the man in front of me is smiling, just slightly, his eyes moving over me as I stare at him like a deer in the headlights. My body’s response to him, thinking about his head buried between my legs…there’s no way he doesn’t smell how turned on I am. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. No matter how much of a traitor my wolf and my body are right now. There is NO way I’m feeling my heat for this man. Not at all. “So.” I turn back to my papers, nervously swallowing. You’ve done this a thousand times, Brooklyn! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name and place of birth?” I ask, trying to regain control of the assessment. “I believe,” Kenwood says slowly, “that you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his boldness—he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in Grayling City knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck once again by the grim, lethal quality to his face. Aden Kenwood is all jagged edges and rough shards…and some dark part of me wants to cut my teeth on them. I drag my gaze away from him, feeling a shiver pass through me, tapping its fingers down my spine. Somehow, I imagine that they’re Aden’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and try to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. My wolf, Lena, whines at me, and I shush her. I’m so off-kilter that I actually have to look down and read the words I’d long ago memorized. “The rest of the questions that I ask you today will be of a personal and psychological nature,” I say, giving the canned speech I’m required to say to all inmates. “The state does require that you answer all questions fully and honestly as part of the assessment. Do you understand?” Aden is silent in response, and I look up at him, a knee-jerk reaction to an unresponsive patient. He’s smirking at me, unblinking. “Little girl,” he says, slowly leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “what gives you the right to ask me anything about my history and my mind?” I sit straight in my chair, unnerved by such a question. “The state has hired me to administer these examinations—” “Do you have a degree?” he cuts in. “Some kind of…certificate?” The final word is heavy with derision. I frown at him and reach down to rifle through my bag, producing the certified paperwork from the state that qualifies me for this position. “Here. If you’re so curious.” I reach across the table to hand it to him. A second before he grabs my wrist, I realize my mistake. He snatches my hand, fully capturing it in his, pulling me forward against the table, careful not to let the silver binding his wrists touch my skin. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him. I’m terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then— Oh my goddess— Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Chamomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, taking in my scent. “So fresh and clean…untainted by the scent of another wolf.” Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “You must be a virgin.” My lip trembles. His eyes eat me up, savoring the quiver of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. I swear I feel his tongue flick over my pulse point, hear a low groan. “So innocent, so pure…” His grip tightens, and even confined by silver that should keep it from happening, his wolf flashes in his eyes. “Two of my favorite things to destroy.” Brooklyn A guard flies through the door. “Hands off!” he yells, but Aden has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, back to smirking, his eyes on me. “Won’t happen again.” I blink at him, sitting back in my chair. I straighten my shoulders, unable to take my eyes off him. “Are you all right, miss?” the guard says, leaning forward to look me over. “I’m fine.” I rub my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt, just…shocked? Turned on? Confused? I clear my throat and look back down at my papers. “We will…we will proceed.” I work to steel myself, determined to regain control, to finish this interview. Failure isn’t an option if I want to graduate. I give Kenwood a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. Picking up my pen again, I’m grateful that my hands aren’t shaking. “Please,” I say, focusing again on the paper. “Can you tell me about the crime for which you were imprisoned? I see—” “Your little skirt,” he says, grinning wolfishly at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and that skirt’s the perfect length to—” “Please, Mr. Kenwood,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out with a little growl. “I demand your respect during this process. Please be aware that what I report today will affect the rest of your time in prison, as well as your chances for early release. So I suggest that you take this process seriously.” Kenwood’s response is to laugh at me. “Darling,” he says, leaning forward again. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried.” I blink at him, stunned, but it quickly turns to rage. I clench my fist, my knuckles almost white, working to keep Lena’s temper at bay inside of me. The last place I can shift is here. Aden looks down at my fist and grins. “Now, now, Doc. No fair teasing. I like it a little rough.” “Mr. Kenwood,” I bite out, “if you aren’t interested in cooperating with me, I’d rather not waste my time. I’ll just let the guard know you’re being combative.” I stand up with bravado I don’t feel, and raise my hand, waving to the guard standing right outside the door. In a flash, Aden’s demeanor changes. Gone is the relaxed, playful wolf who’s been teasing me. Instead of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes at knocking me off-kilter, all the sharp edges and darkness are back. I can’t look away, overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. Finally, I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor—anywhere but at him. “You looked away first.” He studies me. “Didn’t your parents, your Alpha teach you not to show weakness? Not to take your eyes off the enemy? In the battlefield, you’d have died by my hand—or my wolf’s teeth. Pitiful.” Riled, I raise my eyes to stare him down, determined not to look away first. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” My face goes pale and red at once. I’m enraged, mortified to have fallen for his trick. I know better! But also—god dammit—I feel my nipples go hard under my blazer. His steely gaze moves to my chest, as if he knows it, the rumble of a growl in his chest deepening. I grab my pen again, scrawling words across the paper as fast as I can. Constantly defiant, ruthlessly sociopathic, no remorse. Recommend continued imprisonment, without parole. “This is finished.” I gather my papers as fast as I can, shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. He’s laughing softly as I hurry. I take a breath, throw my shoulders back, and then give him what I hope is a withering glare as I move towards the door. I pound twice on the metal, and the guard lets me out. I don’t look at Kenwood again as I start to leave. “Oh, Doc…” his voice echoes behind me. My cheeks burn and I grit my teeth as I turn to hear his parting words. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he says, giving me a dark smirk. “You can count on it.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I storm out, the guard shutting the door behind me. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again. And good riddance. However, when I return, I get on my laptop and open a search engine. My cheeks grow red for what feels like the millionth time today and I find myself typing “Aden Kenwood” into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that Dad watches every night calls Aden Kenwood the Werewolf Mafia King—or just “the Wolf King” sometimes, to appeal to the human demographic and pearl-clutchers. They are always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a tech company in Silicon Valley, calling him the CEO. Another site lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another… God, is that Brad Pitt he’s shaking hands with in that photo? Scrolling farther down, there are reports and articles about packs wanting to form and make him their Alpha. It appears he always declines… I gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through the results, trying to match what I’m seeing here with the man I met in the prison the other day. “Whatcha looking at?” my sister, Jolie flops onto the couch, grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I squeal, snatching at it. “Jolie, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Aden. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure.” She nods appreciatively. “Who is this?” “Aden Kenwood,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day because the shifter who usually does it was out and I was their only other shifter. He was…unnerving.” Jolie flicks her eyes to me, considering. “Did he scare you?” I shrug. “A little.” She narrows her eyes a bit, snapping the laptop shut. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming out with me tonight, baby Brooklyn,” she says, sliding across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard time with your gay boyfriend and the scary Mafia King. You’ve got to have some fun!” I laugh, letting her wrap me up. “Okay, okay! Geeze, I’ll come.” Little did I know how much these separate aspects of my life would collide in just a few hours. *** The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun. Lena is even loosening up a little bit, and she’s not as on edge as she has been the past few days. Though, she absolutely keeps throwing up images of Kenwood in my mind. Jolie dressed me tonight, which would usually make me uncomfortable, but for once, I let her take charge and decided to step out of my comfort zone and just go with it. What she calls a “dress” is more a sheet of silver fabric that falls across my front and then wraps low around my hips. It’s strapped together across my shoulders with a spiderweb of silver strings. Gotta give it up to that wolf shifter metabolism…I’m showing a lot of skin, but I know I look good. Despite spending the last couple of days drowning myself in Ben & Jerry’s. She also curled my long red hair into waves and gave me shadowy makeup and full red lips. Looking at myself in the club’s mirrored walls, I feel…well, I blush to admit it, but I feel really sexy. It’s a strange feeling. I’m not sure what I expected when Jolie took me to one of “her” clubs, but this feels nothing like a strip club. In fact, so far every woman dancing on the stages is fully clothed. I look around from my spot in a round corner booth, curious as to where everything else happens. Jolie sits down next to me then, laughing. She waves goodbye to the man she had been talking with, then turns her attention to me. Her eyes are a little glazed. “You having fun, baby Brooklyn?” She gives me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back. “Yes,” I say, laughing. “Though I’m curious…where does…all the oth—" Jolie stiffens next to me, and I stop talking. Lena scents fear. I follow Jolie’s gaze. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. When I look, he starts to walk over. Jolie quickly jumps to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. I grimace a little—he looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. Smells a bit like it, too. Definitely human. “Davis!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?” “Jolie,” he says, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.” “Have you met my little sister, Brooklyn?” She gestures towards me with a big smile. “Brooklyn, this is Miguel Davis, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.” Davis’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by the little dress I’m wearing. I wasn’t uncomfortable before, but now I try to tug it down lower with my fist. Lena growls low inside me at this creep, but I have to keep her leashed. We’re not allowed to shift at all in establishments where humans go. “Um, hello,” I say, hesitant. He takes Jolie by her elbow. “Come on. We’re going to talk around back.” “Okay,” Jolie murmurs, suddenly serious. She leans down to whisper to me. “It’s just work stuff, don’t worry. Plus, wolf versus human. I got this.” I give her a little smile and nod, even though I’m not sure what her wolf can even do for her right now. Between the laws we have to follow and how glazed her eyes are from…whatever she took… Jolie follows Davis into the back. They’re gone for a long time. Anxiously, I run my hand over the underwire of my bra, feeling the tiny switchblade hidden there. The only possession my mother left to me in her will. I tucked it into my bra tonight, just in case. Without the ability to use my razor-sharp claws or my wolf, I like having it with me. I don’t really know how to use it, but it calms me to know that it’s there. Half an hour more and the door opens. My stomach drops. There’s Davis, but where’s my sister? Davis’s eyes catch on me as he starts to move farther out into the club. I see him mouth the word “shit,” and then he walks over to me. “Jolie’s sister, right?” “Yes. Where is she?” “She got sick. She’s just throwing up, but she’s a little green around the gills right now,” he says, gesturing towards his own neck. Alarm bells ring in my head. Wolf shifters don’t just get “get sick.” I stand and turn towards the staff door, intending to go find my sister, but he stops me. “No, listen,” he says. “She won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you someplace where you can wait more comfortably.” He pulls me forward. I follow him, confused and worried as he pulls me quickly across the club to a black door, pushing it open. The inside is barely lit—a dark room with mirrors on the ceiling and tiny pinpricks of light coming up from the floor. A wide velvet bench wraps itself around the room with little black cocktail tables lined up in front of it. I blink, trying to let my eyes adjust, as Davis settles me into a little table by the door. “Wait here for a bit,” Davis says, looking beyond me. “I’ll have someone bring you a drink. Your sister will be fine soon.” Then, he walks away. Someone does bring me a drink, and I take a sip of it. But then I realize that it’s laced with something. My head starts to spin and I push it away from me. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room and realize that I’m not alone in here. Bodies, mostly in couples, writhe together on the black velvet seating. Some of them are dancing, but some… Well, that girl is on her knees. My eyes go wide as I realize what she is doing. I jump to my feet, blushing and heading for the door. As soon as I reach it, Davis comes back in. “Whoa whoa whoa!” he says, putting up hands to stop me. I shrink in front of him. “Where you going, baby?” He rubs a hand up and down my arm. Instinctively, I jerk my arm away from him. Davis keeps moving towards me, but for every step he takes, I take one backwards. Soon, I feel myself bump into a table behind me. He presses up against me. There’s nowhere else to go. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” Davis whispers, his hot breath on my face. “Or else your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re going to work some of it off.” I want to push him away but somehow I lose all my strength now. I’m scared to death, a little whimper escaping my mouth. “Do you mind?” The voice drawls from behind Davis. “That’s my doctor you’re harassing there.” I feel Davis’s weight lift off me as he turns towards the voice. I peer behind him, shocked. I recognize that deep, chocolate tone, and it sends a rush of heat straight between my legs. It can’t be…	LEARN_MORE	https://ysvox.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=66e3fba7f	Werewolf Fiction Club	https://www.facebook.com/100086297174750/	2,780	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	ysvox.com	VIDEO		https://ysvox.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=66e3fba7faa92e91eb0b7e71&mode=6&mediaType=fb&px=756695679720479&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461583238_905200084803532_209510879402667545_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2mveTz8ztL4Q7kNvgGFr1LP&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Az8hkAOzBVDxuhGj7WA2atq&oh=00_AYDK1sN_SMIGBF20GVsrKWofM-SP22ZkcqxH7phHZnE5cw&oe=67042B04	PERSON_PROFILE	Werewolf Fiction Club	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,390	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064386}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	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2,064,376	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064309}'	No	2024-10-01 19:18	active	1564	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	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2,064,653	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064524}'	No	2024-10-01 19:21	active	1565	😍Read the next chapters👉	At Grace Mansion, the lanterns in the corridors cast intricate shadows on the window frames, resembling beasts looming on the walls. Carissa Sinclair sat on a chair with her hands folded in her lap, her slender body hidden beneath plain clothes. She looked at the man before her—her husband whom she had spent a year waiting for. Barrett Warren was still wearing his slightly-worn battle armor. Standing under the dim light, he looked commanding and handsome. His face showed a mix of determination and a touch of regret. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife and equal to you." "Calling her that doesn't change anything. Ultimately, she’s really just a concubine in disguise," Carissa replied, remaining indifferent. Barrett frowned. "What does it matter? Aurora and I developed feelings for each other on the battlefield. We earned this marriage through our achievements. I don’t need your approval." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Developed feelings, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett had left to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before leaving, he had lifted his wife’s veil and promised her, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didn’t understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! Everything Carissa had done over the past year had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting her brow. Barrett spoke of Aurora Yates with a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother. She’s made her very happy. Even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was seriously ill. I brought in the best physician to treat her. I managed the estate’s affairs by day and stayed up nights by her bedside. It was only because of this that her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was stating the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. She’s a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn’t want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She’s straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won’t like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Chapter 2 Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, you’ll be in separate wings. She won’t compete with you for control of the household. She doesn’t care about those things.” “Do you really think I’m attached to managing this household?” Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrett’s mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligations—all these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. “Enough, I won’t argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,” said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. “My lady, my lord was too much!” said Lulu, Carissa’s maid, wiping her tears away. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?” Lulu held her forehead and gasped. “But your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children.” Tears finally welled up in Carissa’s eyes at the mention of her parents. Her father had stayed loyal to her mother, never taking a concubine. They had six sons and one daughter. All her brothers followed her father to the battlefield. Three years ago, none returned from the Southern Frontier. Though she was a girl, Carissa came from a family of warriors and started training as a child. At the age of seven, she was sent to study under a master, where she also learned military strategy. When she returned home at fifteen, she learned her father and brothers had died a year earlier. Her mother, who had gone blind from crying too much, held Carissa close and said, "You must live like the noble girls in the kingdom. Find a good husband, marry, have children, and lead a peaceful life. You’re the only child I have left.” Carissa felt like someone had gouged her heart out. The pain she felt was so intense she couldn't even bring herself to cry. Determined to please her mother, she spent a year mastering the traditional values and duties expected of a noblewoman. She also learned accounting and how to manage a household. Not only was Carissa the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, but she was also known for her beauty. So, suitors flooded their doorstep. Her mother had chosen Barrett because he had sworn he would never take another wife if he married Carissa. But six months ago, tragedy struck. All the residents of Northwatch Estate were murdered. No one was spared, not even the children or servants. Each victim suffered numerous knife wounds, and their bodies were brutally dismembered. Carissa’s youngest nephew had been only two and a half years old, born after the death of her third brother. The local authorities and garrison unit captured a few of the assailants. After further investigation, they were discovered to be spies from an enemy kingdom, Westhaven. The war at the front line was raging, yet these spies didn't hesitate to reveal themselves just to annihilate her family. The manner of the murder suggested it was more of a personal vengeance than anything else. When Carissa received the news, she rushed home, only to find her grandmother’s and mother’s gruesomely dismembered bodies. Blood stained every corner of the residence, and the dead were left in agonizing states. Now, Carissa was the lone survivor of the marquis' family. The idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. They saw her merely as a delicate, fragile woman. However, Aurora was different. She had earned military merits for her contribution to the war and became the first female general in history. Even the queen dowager had high praise for her. With Aurora supporting Barrett, his future would be more secure. That was the reason the Warren family readily agreed to the marriage. Chapter 3 Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." Carissa glanced at the list. "Alright." Just looking at the list put her in a melancholy mood. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she would suffer hardships in her husband's home. "My lady, where can we go? Are we returning to Northwatch Estate? Or should we go back to Meadow Ridge?" Lulu asked, looking distressed. Images of the bloodstained estate and the tragic deaths of her family members flashed through Carissa’s mind, causing a sudden pang of pain in her heart. "Anywhere is better than staying here." "If you leave, you’ll be giving them exactly what they want." "So be it. If I stay, I’ll spend my whole life suffering as I watch those two be affectionate. Lulu, I must live well to give my parents and brothers peace in the afterlife," Carissa replied calmly. "My lady!" Lulu wept bitterly. She had been born and raised in Northwatch Estate. The murder had claimed the lives of everyone, including her own family. The images still haunted her, and returning there seemed unthinkable. "Is there no other way?" Lulu asked desperately. Carissa’s eyes grew cold. "There is. I could confront the king and use my family’s achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, I’ll take my own life in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissa’s expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think I’m that silly? If I manage to reach the king, I’ll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. The wealth from Northwatch Estate was more than enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She wouldn't degrade herself unnecessarily. Just then, someone called from outside, "Madam Carissa, the matriarch has requested your presence!" "It’s Jade, Madam Rebecca's maid. It seems like Madam Rebecca wants to try and persuade you," Lulu whispered. Carissa straightened up, her expression serious. "Then, let’s go." The evening sun glowed like blood, and the autumn wind was chilly. The late king had bestowed the Warren family's current residence, Valor Estate, upon Barrett's grandfather. Though once prestigious, it had fallen into decline. Most of the Warren family's men were warriors who fought on battlefields. Only a few were civil servants who worked in the palace. Barrett’s father, Jonathan, didn’t fare well in his official career. His second uncle, Gregory, only held a minor post in the Royal Citadel. Barrett and his eldest brother, Benjamin, were somewhat successful in the military. But before their recent victory, they were only fourth-ranked majors. Both families still lived together in Valor Estate. Splitting the family would only hasten their decline. Accompanied by Lulu, Carissa arrived at Rebecca’s room. Rebecca's complexion looked a bit better, and she was sitting up in bed. She smiled warmly when she saw Carissa. "You’re here." Benjamin and his wife, Amelia Morgan, were also in the room. Barrett's sister, Serena, and the other children of the concubines were present as well. Barrett's second aunt, Charlotte Lewis, was also seated nearby. However, her expression was cold and somewhat disdainful. "Hello, Mother. Aunt Charlotte, Benjamin, Amelia," Carissa greeted them politely. "Carissa, come here." Rebecca gestured for her daughter-in-law to sit by her bedside. The older woman held Carissa's hand affectionately and happily said, "Now that Barrett is back, you have someone to rely on. This year has been so hard on you, especially with what happened to your family. You’re the only one left of the marquis' family. Fortunately, all of that is behind you now." Rebecca was shrewd. She made it clear that Carissa would need to depend on the Warren family in the future, since her family was gone. Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebecca hadn’t expected Carissa to be so straightforward. Her smile froze for a moment before she replied, "Yes, I did. She’s rather rough around the edges and doesn’t compare to you in terms of looks." Carissa gazed at her mother-in-law steadily. "So, are you saying you don't like her?" Chapter 4 Rebecca forced a smile. "How can I decide that after meeting her only once? But since the king has arranged the marriage, it’s a done deal. In the future, she and Barrett will earn military merits together, while you manage the household and enjoy the benefits of their hard work. Isn’t that nice?" "Yes, I'm sure," Carissa replied with a smile. "But it’s quite unfair to make General Yates a concubine." Rebecca laughed. "You silly child, how could she be a concubine? The king’s edict makes her Barrett's legal wife. Also, she’s a military officer who holds an official rank. Officials can’t be concubines. She'll be a legal wife like you. There won't be any distinction between ranks for the two of you." "No distinction? Is there such a custom in our kingdom?" Carissa asked. Rebecca’s expression grew a bit colder. "Carissa, you’ve always been sensible. Now that you’ve married into our family, you should prioritize us. According to the Defense Minister, Aurora’s contributions in this battle were greater than Barrett’s. With you managing the household, they'll be able to work together as husband and wife and focus on their military service. In the future, they'll surely become famous generals like his grandfather." Carissa’s tone remained chilly as she said, "If they’re husband and wife, then I have no role here." "How can you say that? Aren’t you still in charge of the household?" countered Rebecca, displeased. "I only managed the household because Amelia was unwell. Now that she has recovered, she should resume her duties. I’ll go over the accounts tomorrow and hand everything back to her," Carissa replied. Amelia quickly interjected, "I’m still not fully recovered. Besides, everyone is satisfied with how you’ve been managing things. You should continue doing it." Carissa smiled mockingly. Everyone was satisfied because she had spent her own money to support them. Most of it went towards Rebecca’s medical expenses. Sebastian Dalton was a renowned physician, and his medicine was costly. Only a few could afford his services. Rebecca’s medicine cost over a hundred coins a month, amounting to more than a thousand coins a year. As for the other household expenses, Carissa occasionally subsidized them. For example, she would sometimes use fabrics and silks from her family’s business to make new clothes for everyone throughout the year. She didn’t mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, circumstances had changed. She no longer wanted to be a fool. Carissa stood up and said, "That’s settled, then. I’ll hand over the accounts tomorrow and won’t be involved in household matters anymore." "Stop right there!" Rebecca's face darkened with anger. "Carissa, you’re being unreasonable. Men having multiple wives and concubines is normal. If you can't accept that, people will say you're narrow-minded and jealous." Carissa’s compliance over the past year had made the Warren family think she was easy to manipulate. They believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. Carissa’s expression was calm, a stark contrast to her usual docility. "People can say whatever they want. I'm not concerned about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and coughed harshly for a long while. In the past, Carissa would have rushed to help her. She would pat the older woman's back and try to soothe her. But now, Carissa remained where she was. The soft evening light from the doorway highlighted her delicate, almost ethereal beauty. "Carissa, look how badly you've upset Mom," Serena said as she stepped forward. Her round, youthful face puffed with anger as she glared at Carissa. "This isn’t even about you. Do you think your family is still as prestigious as it once was? Your parents and brothers are gone; you're the only one left. Aren't you afraid that Barrett will divorce you if you keep putting on airs like you're a young lady from a prestigious family?" Carissa looked at her sister-in-law, who was dressed in a pale yellow outfit that Carissa had procured for her in early autumn. Now, wearing the clothes Carissa had provided, Serena dared to question her authority. How utterly… unsensible of her. "Take off that dress you’re wearing before you try to lecture me," Carissa said coolly. Serena’s cheeks flushed with anger. "I didn’t beg you to get this dress for me. You can have it back if you don’t want me to have it." "Fine. And don’t forget the jewelry you’re wearing. I expect it all to be returned to me." After Carissa said that, her gaze swept across the room. The only one who seemed pleased with the situation was Charlotte. Everyone else looked grim. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving." With that, Carissa turned and walked out decisively. Chapter 5 The Warren family members exchanged puzzled glances. None expected the usually agreeable Carissa to stand her ground so firmly this time. She even defied Rebecca, the matriarch of the family! “She’ll come around. She doesn’t have any other choice,” Rebecca said coldly. That was true. With Carissa's family gone, she had no one to rely on except the Warren family. Besides, she was still Barrett's rightful wife, and it wasn’t like she had been mistreated. - Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu returned to Northwatch Estate. The estate was bleak and covered in fallen leaves. After just half a year of neglect, the courtyard was overgrown with weeds that were taller than a person. Stepping back into the estate, Carissa’s heart ached fiercely. Six months ago, she had collapsed upon hearing that her family had been murdered. She had wept when she saw the lifeless bodies of her grandmother and mother—their corpses cold and devoid of warmth. Every corner of the estate had been stained with blood. Memorial plaques for her ancestors and mother had been placed at the estate’s family chapel. Carissa and Lulu prepared flowers to place on the plaques, their tears unceasing. Carissa knelt before her parents’ memorials. Though her eyes were swollen from crying, they held a determined gaze. “Dad, Mom, if you can hear me from heaven, please forgive your daughter for what she is about to do. It’s not that I don’t want a peaceful life with a husband and children, but Barrett is not someone I can trust with my life. Rest assured, I promise Lulu and I will live well.” Lulu knelt beside her, sobbing uncontrollably. After they were done, they boarded a carriage and headed straight for the palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. Lulu was distressed and said, “My lady, the king might not see you. Maybe he thinks you’re here to oppose his edict about the marriage. You didn’t eat last night or have breakfast today. Are you holding up okay? Should I go get you something to eat?” “I’m not hungry.” The only thing Carissa felt was the unwavering resolve to dissolve her marriage and return home. “Please don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not worth getting sick over. Why don’t we just let it go? After all, you’re still the rightful wife and the lady of the Warren family. Even if General Yates is to be a legal wife, she’ll just be a glorified concubine at best. Maybe we should just endure it?” Lulu pleaded. Carissa’s gaze was cold. “Lulu, if you’re going to talk like that, don’t speak at all.” Lulu sighed, feeling lost and unsure of what else to do. She had hoped that once Barrett returned, Carissa would find some peace. But the situation had only worsened. - In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t see her. The edict has been issued, and I can’t take it back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have made significant contributions.” “If we speak of military achievements, the Marquis of Northwatch and General Sullivan’s contributions surpass all others,” Derek countered. Salvador remembered the Marquis of Northwatch, Hector Sinclair. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Carissa was a familiar face from those days, though she had been a delicate child. He still remembered her fair skin and endearing looks. Salvador had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers. When Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. Apart from his brother who was known as the Devil Monarch on the battlefield, the kingdom had no other capable generals. In the recent war with Westhaven, Dominic Sullivan’s third son had lost an arm. Dominic's seventh son had been murdered, though this had been kept secret. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants. I'll even give her a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” Chapter 6 Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Salvador remembered the Sinclair family. Knowing that Carissa was now the only one left stirred a feeling of pity in him. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "I have already issued the edict. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I implore you to issue another edict. I want to divorce General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "What? You want a divorce?" Salvador thought she had come to ask him to rescind the marriage edict. He never expected a plea for a divorce. Holding back tears, Carissa pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. "Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. I wish to seek an edict to divorce my husband based on my late family's military merits. Please, Your Majesty, I'm begging you." "Carissa, do you know what you'll face after the divorce?" Salvador asked, a complicated expression on his face. Carissa hadn't heard Salvador call her by name in a long time. When he was still the crown prince, he used to occasionally visit Northwatch Estate. He would always find some interesting little gifts to give her when he did. After Carissa later went to Meadow Ridge to study under her master, they never saw each other again. "I do," she affirmed. There was a hint of a smile on Carissa's stunning face. But no matter how one looked at it, the smile seemed tinged with irony. "I'm sure you know the saying that a true gentleman appreciates and helps others to fulfill their aspirations, right? Even though I'm not a gentleman, I don't want to hinder General Warren and General Yates from being together," Carissa added. "Carissa, there's no one left at Northwatch Estate. Are you really going to go back there? Have you thought about your future?" Salvador asked. "I returned to the estate today to visit my family's memorial plaques. Seeing how the estate has fallen into disrepair made me want to live there again. I'll adopt a son for my father's sake, so there will still be someone to honor his memory," Carissa explained. Salvador had thought she was being impulsive; he hadn't expected her to be so considerate. "You're Barrett's legal wife. Aurora can't undermine your position. You really don't need a divorce." Carissa looked up with tear-filled eyes that were firm with resolve. "Your Majesty, that's meaningless. I don't want to waste my life like this. I'm the only one left from the Marquis of Northwatch's' family. My father and brothers lived honorably and bravely throughout their lives. I don't want to settle for a life of mediocrity." "I know you have feelings for Barrett. Are you willing to let go?" Salvador asked. Feelings? Not really. Carissa simply admired military men, and her mother had wanted her to marry and lead a stable life. That was why she had agreed to the marriage. Carissa smiled. At this moment, she looked like a strong woman who would be able to flourish even in the most challenging circumstances. "If he can let go of me, then I can let go of him," she declared. Beneath her delicate appearance, she possessed an unyielding backbone. This stunned Salvador. He had never seen such a woman before. He felt a pang of confusion, remembering the carefree little girl who used to smile all day long. Now, she was married and soon to be abandoned. To the world, divorce still meant abandonment. This was especially true in Carissa’s situation, as Barrett had publicly sought the marriage edict. Being a woman was already difficult, and she would have it even harder. How would she negotiate future marriages? There was no one left in her family to do it for her. Thinking of this, Salvador recalled Hector's merits, especially how they had saved each other on the battlefield, and his heart softened towards Carissa. "Alright, I agree. You may leave now. In a few days, the edict of divorce will be sent to the general's residence," Salvador said. Carissa breathed a sigh of relief and bowed her head. "Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!" As Salvador watched her, he was suddenly reminded of when she was a little girl, and his heart softened further. "Carissa, if anyone mistreats you in the future, come to the palace and see me." "Thank you, Your Majesty!" Carissa bowed once again.	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	146	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/458293998_1696356974464897_6574490535769686259_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0wTQIW0jx94Q7kNvgH9lQPK&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXYUCd30NSEN5yQ3kFjXINc&oh=00_AYBFWNsKi9lA30u0ZTkRaLxqwB0J3ZEp1XQo62w2VIn4og&oe=6702691F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,066,777	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2066776}'	No	2024-10-03 02:49	active	1567	La vida amorosa de Alejandro Fernández en solo 40 imágenes	¡Escándalo! Revelan los detalles más íntimos de Alejandro Fernández y su pareja	LEARN_MORE	https://drivepedia.com/trending/alejandro-fernande	FabCrunch Express	https://www.facebook.com/61561020704899/	24	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	drivepedia.com	DCO	¿Creías saberlo todo? Conoce las relaciones ocultas y polémicas de Alejandro Fernández. ¡Los detalles más inesperados están aquí!	https://drivepedia.com/trending/alejandro-fernandez-vida-amorosa-syn/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_campaign=Alejandro%20Fernandez%20%7C%20V7%20%7C%200210%20Dynamic%20PHS%201%20CMB%208d84%20-%20Mobile%20USA%20FB%20CMB&network_code=CMB&utm_term=content&v=1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461875370_2828938540606135_994368741098615658_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=O-UbOC1d-igQ7kNvgELaopu&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5pwx0lA7TkCgkPIvK-4bzS&oh=00_AYCXATjqHBG-EKrMrD7947DnIbCyn6GDBx5gZqIiVDnMrQ&oe=67040217	PERSON_PROFILE	FabCrunch Express	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,551	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064524}'	No	2024-10-01 19:21	active	1565	😍Read the next chapters👉	At Grace Mansion, the lanterns in the corridors cast intricate shadows on the window frames, resembling beasts looming on the walls. Carissa Sinclair sat on a chair with her hands folded in her lap, her slender body hidden beneath plain clothes. She looked at the man before her—her husband whom she had spent a year waiting for. Barrett Warren was still wearing his slightly-worn battle armor. Standing under the dim light, he looked commanding and handsome. His face showed a mix of determination and a touch of regret. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife and equal to you." "Calling her that doesn't change anything. Ultimately, she’s really just a concubine in disguise," Carissa replied, remaining indifferent. Barrett frowned. "What does it matter? Aurora and I developed feelings for each other on the battlefield. We earned this marriage through our achievements. I don’t need your approval." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Developed feelings, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett had left to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before leaving, he had lifted his wife’s veil and promised her, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didn’t understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! Everything Carissa had done over the past year had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting her brow. Barrett spoke of Aurora Yates with a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother. She’s made her very happy. Even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was seriously ill. I brought in the best physician to treat her. I managed the estate’s affairs by day and stayed up nights by her bedside. It was only because of this that her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was stating the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. She’s a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn’t want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She’s straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won’t like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Chapter 2 Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, you’ll be in separate wings. She won’t compete with you for control of the household. She doesn’t care about those things.” “Do you really think I’m attached to managing this household?” Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrett’s mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligations—all these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. “Enough, I won’t argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,” said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. “My lady, my lord was too much!” said Lulu, Carissa’s maid, wiping her tears away. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?” Lulu held her forehead and gasped. “But your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children.” Tears finally welled up in Carissa’s eyes at the mention of her parents. Her father had stayed loyal to her mother, never taking a concubine. They had six sons and one daughter. All her brothers followed her father to the battlefield. Three years ago, none returned from the Southern Frontier. Though she was a girl, Carissa came from a family of warriors and started training as a child. At the age of seven, she was sent to study under a master, where she also learned military strategy. When she returned home at fifteen, she learned her father and brothers had died a year earlier. Her mother, who had gone blind from crying too much, held Carissa close and said, "You must live like the noble girls in the kingdom. Find a good husband, marry, have children, and lead a peaceful life. You’re the only child I have left.” Carissa felt like someone had gouged her heart out. The pain she felt was so intense she couldn't even bring herself to cry. Determined to please her mother, she spent a year mastering the traditional values and duties expected of a noblewoman. She also learned accounting and how to manage a household. Not only was Carissa the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, but she was also known for her beauty. So, suitors flooded their doorstep. Her mother had chosen Barrett because he had sworn he would never take another wife if he married Carissa. But six months ago, tragedy struck. All the residents of Northwatch Estate were murdered. No one was spared, not even the children or servants. Each victim suffered numerous knife wounds, and their bodies were brutally dismembered. Carissa’s youngest nephew had been only two and a half years old, born after the death of her third brother. The local authorities and garrison unit captured a few of the assailants. After further investigation, they were discovered to be spies from an enemy kingdom, Westhaven. The war at the front line was raging, yet these spies didn't hesitate to reveal themselves just to annihilate her family. The manner of the murder suggested it was more of a personal vengeance than anything else. When Carissa received the news, she rushed home, only to find her grandmother’s and mother’s gruesomely dismembered bodies. Blood stained every corner of the residence, and the dead were left in agonizing states. Now, Carissa was the lone survivor of the marquis' family. The idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. They saw her merely as a delicate, fragile woman. However, Aurora was different. She had earned military merits for her contribution to the war and became the first female general in history. Even the queen dowager had high praise for her. With Aurora supporting Barrett, his future would be more secure. That was the reason the Warren family readily agreed to the marriage. Chapter 3 Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." Carissa glanced at the list. "Alright." Just looking at the list put her in a melancholy mood. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she would suffer hardships in her husband's home. "My lady, where can we go? Are we returning to Northwatch Estate? Or should we go back to Meadow Ridge?" Lulu asked, looking distressed. Images of the bloodstained estate and the tragic deaths of her family members flashed through Carissa’s mind, causing a sudden pang of pain in her heart. "Anywhere is better than staying here." "If you leave, you’ll be giving them exactly what they want." "So be it. If I stay, I’ll spend my whole life suffering as I watch those two be affectionate. Lulu, I must live well to give my parents and brothers peace in the afterlife," Carissa replied calmly. "My lady!" Lulu wept bitterly. She had been born and raised in Northwatch Estate. The murder had claimed the lives of everyone, including her own family. The images still haunted her, and returning there seemed unthinkable. "Is there no other way?" Lulu asked desperately. Carissa’s eyes grew cold. "There is. I could confront the king and use my family’s achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, I’ll take my own life in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissa’s expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think I’m that silly? If I manage to reach the king, I’ll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. The wealth from Northwatch Estate was more than enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She wouldn't degrade herself unnecessarily. Just then, someone called from outside, "Madam Carissa, the matriarch has requested your presence!" "It’s Jade, Madam Rebecca's maid. It seems like Madam Rebecca wants to try and persuade you," Lulu whispered. Carissa straightened up, her expression serious. "Then, let’s go." The evening sun glowed like blood, and the autumn wind was chilly. The late king had bestowed the Warren family's current residence, Valor Estate, upon Barrett's grandfather. Though once prestigious, it had fallen into decline. Most of the Warren family's men were warriors who fought on battlefields. Only a few were civil servants who worked in the palace. Barrett’s father, Jonathan, didn’t fare well in his official career. His second uncle, Gregory, only held a minor post in the Royal Citadel. Barrett and his eldest brother, Benjamin, were somewhat successful in the military. But before their recent victory, they were only fourth-ranked majors. Both families still lived together in Valor Estate. Splitting the family would only hasten their decline. Accompanied by Lulu, Carissa arrived at Rebecca’s room. Rebecca's complexion looked a bit better, and she was sitting up in bed. She smiled warmly when she saw Carissa. "You’re here." Benjamin and his wife, Amelia Morgan, were also in the room. Barrett's sister, Serena, and the other children of the concubines were present as well. Barrett's second aunt, Charlotte Lewis, was also seated nearby. However, her expression was cold and somewhat disdainful. "Hello, Mother. Aunt Charlotte, Benjamin, Amelia," Carissa greeted them politely. "Carissa, come here." Rebecca gestured for her daughter-in-law to sit by her bedside. The older woman held Carissa's hand affectionately and happily said, "Now that Barrett is back, you have someone to rely on. This year has been so hard on you, especially with what happened to your family. You’re the only one left of the marquis' family. Fortunately, all of that is behind you now." Rebecca was shrewd. She made it clear that Carissa would need to depend on the Warren family in the future, since her family was gone. Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebecca hadn’t expected Carissa to be so straightforward. Her smile froze for a moment before she replied, "Yes, I did. She’s rather rough around the edges and doesn’t compare to you in terms of looks." Carissa gazed at her mother-in-law steadily. "So, are you saying you don't like her?" Chapter 4 Rebecca forced a smile. "How can I decide that after meeting her only once? But since the king has arranged the marriage, it’s a done deal. In the future, she and Barrett will earn military merits together, while you manage the household and enjoy the benefits of their hard work. Isn’t that nice?" "Yes, I'm sure," Carissa replied with a smile. "But it’s quite unfair to make General Yates a concubine." Rebecca laughed. "You silly child, how could she be a concubine? The king’s edict makes her Barrett's legal wife. Also, she’s a military officer who holds an official rank. Officials can’t be concubines. She'll be a legal wife like you. There won't be any distinction between ranks for the two of you." "No distinction? Is there such a custom in our kingdom?" Carissa asked. Rebecca’s expression grew a bit colder. "Carissa, you’ve always been sensible. Now that you’ve married into our family, you should prioritize us. According to the Defense Minister, Aurora’s contributions in this battle were greater than Barrett’s. With you managing the household, they'll be able to work together as husband and wife and focus on their military service. In the future, they'll surely become famous generals like his grandfather." Carissa’s tone remained chilly as she said, "If they’re husband and wife, then I have no role here." "How can you say that? Aren’t you still in charge of the household?" countered Rebecca, displeased. "I only managed the household because Amelia was unwell. Now that she has recovered, she should resume her duties. I’ll go over the accounts tomorrow and hand everything back to her," Carissa replied. Amelia quickly interjected, "I’m still not fully recovered. Besides, everyone is satisfied with how you’ve been managing things. You should continue doing it." Carissa smiled mockingly. Everyone was satisfied because she had spent her own money to support them. Most of it went towards Rebecca’s medical expenses. Sebastian Dalton was a renowned physician, and his medicine was costly. Only a few could afford his services. Rebecca’s medicine cost over a hundred coins a month, amounting to more than a thousand coins a year. As for the other household expenses, Carissa occasionally subsidized them. For example, she would sometimes use fabrics and silks from her family’s business to make new clothes for everyone throughout the year. She didn’t mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, circumstances had changed. She no longer wanted to be a fool. Carissa stood up and said, "That’s settled, then. I’ll hand over the accounts tomorrow and won’t be involved in household matters anymore." "Stop right there!" Rebecca's face darkened with anger. "Carissa, you’re being unreasonable. Men having multiple wives and concubines is normal. If you can't accept that, people will say you're narrow-minded and jealous." Carissa’s compliance over the past year had made the Warren family think she was easy to manipulate. They believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. Carissa’s expression was calm, a stark contrast to her usual docility. "People can say whatever they want. I'm not concerned about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and coughed harshly for a long while. In the past, Carissa would have rushed to help her. She would pat the older woman's back and try to soothe her. But now, Carissa remained where she was. The soft evening light from the doorway highlighted her delicate, almost ethereal beauty. "Carissa, look how badly you've upset Mom," Serena said as she stepped forward. Her round, youthful face puffed with anger as she glared at Carissa. "This isn’t even about you. Do you think your family is still as prestigious as it once was? Your parents and brothers are gone; you're the only one left. Aren't you afraid that Barrett will divorce you if you keep putting on airs like you're a young lady from a prestigious family?" Carissa looked at her sister-in-law, who was dressed in a pale yellow outfit that Carissa had procured for her in early autumn. Now, wearing the clothes Carissa had provided, Serena dared to question her authority. How utterly… unsensible of her. "Take off that dress you’re wearing before you try to lecture me," Carissa said coolly. Serena’s cheeks flushed with anger. "I didn’t beg you to get this dress for me. You can have it back if you don’t want me to have it." "Fine. And don’t forget the jewelry you’re wearing. I expect it all to be returned to me." After Carissa said that, her gaze swept across the room. The only one who seemed pleased with the situation was Charlotte. Everyone else looked grim. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving." With that, Carissa turned and walked out decisively. Chapter 5 The Warren family members exchanged puzzled glances. None expected the usually agreeable Carissa to stand her ground so firmly this time. She even defied Rebecca, the matriarch of the family! “She’ll come around. She doesn’t have any other choice,” Rebecca said coldly. That was true. With Carissa's family gone, she had no one to rely on except the Warren family. Besides, she was still Barrett's rightful wife, and it wasn’t like she had been mistreated. - Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu returned to Northwatch Estate. The estate was bleak and covered in fallen leaves. After just half a year of neglect, the courtyard was overgrown with weeds that were taller than a person. Stepping back into the estate, Carissa’s heart ached fiercely. Six months ago, she had collapsed upon hearing that her family had been murdered. She had wept when she saw the lifeless bodies of her grandmother and mother—their corpses cold and devoid of warmth. Every corner of the estate had been stained with blood. Memorial plaques for her ancestors and mother had been placed at the estate’s family chapel. Carissa and Lulu prepared flowers to place on the plaques, their tears unceasing. Carissa knelt before her parents’ memorials. Though her eyes were swollen from crying, they held a determined gaze. “Dad, Mom, if you can hear me from heaven, please forgive your daughter for what she is about to do. It’s not that I don’t want a peaceful life with a husband and children, but Barrett is not someone I can trust with my life. Rest assured, I promise Lulu and I will live well.” Lulu knelt beside her, sobbing uncontrollably. After they were done, they boarded a carriage and headed straight for the palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. Lulu was distressed and said, “My lady, the king might not see you. Maybe he thinks you’re here to oppose his edict about the marriage. You didn’t eat last night or have breakfast today. Are you holding up okay? Should I go get you something to eat?” “I’m not hungry.” The only thing Carissa felt was the unwavering resolve to dissolve her marriage and return home. “Please don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not worth getting sick over. Why don’t we just let it go? After all, you’re still the rightful wife and the lady of the Warren family. Even if General Yates is to be a legal wife, she’ll just be a glorified concubine at best. Maybe we should just endure it?” Lulu pleaded. Carissa’s gaze was cold. “Lulu, if you’re going to talk like that, don’t speak at all.” Lulu sighed, feeling lost and unsure of what else to do. She had hoped that once Barrett returned, Carissa would find some peace. But the situation had only worsened. - In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t see her. The edict has been issued, and I can’t take it back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have made significant contributions.” “If we speak of military achievements, the Marquis of Northwatch and General Sullivan’s contributions surpass all others,” Derek countered. Salvador remembered the Marquis of Northwatch, Hector Sinclair. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Carissa was a familiar face from those days, though she had been a delicate child. He still remembered her fair skin and endearing looks. Salvador had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers. When Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. Apart from his brother who was known as the Devil Monarch on the battlefield, the kingdom had no other capable generals. In the recent war with Westhaven, Dominic Sullivan’s third son had lost an arm. Dominic's seventh son had been murdered, though this had been kept secret. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants. I'll even give her a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” Chapter 6 Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Salvador remembered the Sinclair family. Knowing that Carissa was now the only one left stirred a feeling of pity in him. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "I have already issued the edict. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I implore you to issue another edict. I want to divorce General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "What? You want a divorce?" Salvador thought she had come to ask him to rescind the marriage edict. He never expected a plea for a divorce. Holding back tears, Carissa pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. "Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. I wish to seek an edict to divorce my husband based on my late family's military merits. Please, Your Majesty, I'm begging you." "Carissa, do you know what you'll face after the divorce?" Salvador asked, a complicated expression on his face. Carissa hadn't heard Salvador call her by name in a long time. When he was still the crown prince, he used to occasionally visit Northwatch Estate. He would always find some interesting little gifts to give her when he did. After Carissa later went to Meadow Ridge to study under her master, they never saw each other again. "I do," she affirmed. There was a hint of a smile on Carissa's stunning face. But no matter how one looked at it, the smile seemed tinged with irony. "I'm sure you know the saying that a true gentleman appreciates and helps others to fulfill their aspirations, right? Even though I'm not a gentleman, I don't want to hinder General Warren and General Yates from being together," Carissa added. "Carissa, there's no one left at Northwatch Estate. Are you really going to go back there? Have you thought about your future?" Salvador asked. "I returned to the estate today to visit my family's memorial plaques. Seeing how the estate has fallen into disrepair made me want to live there again. I'll adopt a son for my father's sake, so there will still be someone to honor his memory," Carissa explained. Salvador had thought she was being impulsive; he hadn't expected her to be so considerate. "You're Barrett's legal wife. Aurora can't undermine your position. You really don't need a divorce." Carissa looked up with tear-filled eyes that were firm with resolve. "Your Majesty, that's meaningless. I don't want to waste my life like this. I'm the only one left from the Marquis of Northwatch's' family. My father and brothers lived honorably and bravely throughout their lives. I don't want to settle for a life of mediocrity." "I know you have feelings for Barrett. Are you willing to let go?" Salvador asked. Feelings? Not really. Carissa simply admired military men, and her mother had wanted her to marry and lead a stable life. That was why she had agreed to the marriage. Carissa smiled. At this moment, she looked like a strong woman who would be able to flourish even in the most challenging circumstances. "If he can let go of me, then I can let go of him," she declared. Beneath her delicate appearance, she possessed an unyielding backbone. This stunned Salvador. He had never seen such a woman before. He felt a pang of confusion, remembering the carefree little girl who used to smile all day long. Now, she was married and soon to be abandoned. To the world, divorce still meant abandonment. This was especially true in Carissa’s situation, as Barrett had publicly sought the marriage edict. Being a woman was already difficult, and she would have it even harder. How would she negotiate future marriages? There was no one left in her family to do it for her. Thinking of this, Salvador recalled Hector's merits, especially how they had saved each other on the battlefield, and his heart softened towards Carissa. "Alright, I agree. You may leave now. In a few days, the edict of divorce will be sent to the general's residence," Salvador said. Carissa breathed a sigh of relief and bowed her head. "Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!" As Salvador watched her, he was suddenly reminded of when she was a little girl, and his heart softened further. "Carissa, if anyone mistreats you in the future, come to the palace and see me." "Thank you, Your Majesty!" Carissa bowed once again.	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	146	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/458293998_1696356974464897_6574490535769686259_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0wTQIW0jx94Q7kNvgH9lQPK&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYD1PzDMN26PF7PIchp-Po90Q94XI-K9R3XQOTq37YJnPA&oe=6702691F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,066,350	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2066330}'	No	2024-10-03 02:12	active	1566	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	The clearing of a throat makes me jump. I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I do as I’m told. Allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” My head moved up and down, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. “I am…I am a Wolf.” I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasn’t sure how much more my body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever liked to do. They never hear my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them. There was no way I was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” “For killing my parents.”	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11782&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/61557831245498/	22	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11782&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/447959759_1311554859802432_4227718076479884991_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=K3u8scEuY2kQ7kNvgFMcz_b&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6n2saf96JYXi2HxgS1TAzW&oh=00_AYC38pKoNqswysUEG1XIp-T1iIgObZealOAAH_cmQjQwrQ&oe=67041C1D	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,067,452	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2067319}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:52	active	1567		We love fall, and at 4845 Frank Gay Rd in Marcellus we make your pumpkin shopping easy. We harvest loads of pumpkins every day, so no matter when you come, you get to pick from fresh pumpkins. We have the most beautiful orange and white pumpkins this year with sturdy stems. As well as specialty pumpkins in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. Some of our pumpkins are over 50 lbs! And what makes it so easy to shop here? You can back right up to our pumpkin patch for quick loading. No long walks or hauling your pumpkins around. Consistent replenishing of any empty spaces makes it so you always have the perfect spot to get a photo op of those hard to capture little ones. Dogs are welcome too! They just need to be on a leash. When you shop with us, you get quality pumpkins, convenient shopping, and great prices. Our largest carvers are $12 and everything else is $10 or less, with mist of those perfect sized pumpkins being only $6. Need a little pop of color or that perfect table decor? We have lots of gourds, 5 for $3. If you're already in the mood for pumpkin pie, we also have pie pumpkins for $2 each. Open 7 days a week. Accepting cash, card, Apple Pay, and Venmo. Happy fall!	NO_BUTTON		Oliver's Produce	https://www.facebook.com/oliversproduce/	9,872	1969-12-31 18:00	No button		MULTI_IMAGES			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461586219_519003177412364_5082200424111815814_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ueWEbfKUQLEQ7kNvgFarkvx&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AvuucuIKtLauTSD-EsO91jl&oh=00_AYC63_WJrHkKF5xhzhKgr2PIzSD9MYE8wcgx-RJci7MfnQ&oe=670420DA	PERSON_PROFILE	Oliver's Produce	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,714	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064711}'	No	2024-10-01 19:21	active	1565	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” I hear the Beta Kyle scream. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment he sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don’t make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” He snaps. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” I don’t answer, I keep my eyes low so that I didn’t have to look at his face. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. From what I gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned 18, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding me of how worthless I am. The clearing of a throat makes me jump. I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. I do as I’m told. Allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” My head moved up and down, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. “I am…I am a Wolf.” I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasn’t sure how much more my body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever liked to do. They never hear my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them. There was no way I was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through me. “For killing my parents.” I whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him...	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,706	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/451012171_848801020466481_244664085103969422_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gVenkiiixAEQ7kNvgED9ZXG&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXYUCd30NSEN5yQ3kFjXINc&oh=00_AYCA1Uh1eqy5f5ZMnQh03ydbWapk91Ux18ZP1RSmJnk_RA&oe=670279A3	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,067,866	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2067862}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:53	active	1567	Read <The Alpha King'sCurse> on the WhosNovel.👉👉👉	“I’ll get straight to the point. I need you to have my baby.” Jackson King watched the girl’s eyes widen as she looked from him to his Beta, Dylan. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. I thought you said you needed me to have your baby,” she chuckled. He could sense her unease the same way he could smell her arousal. She was drenched. Even without a wolf telling her she was his, her body knew it, and he hated that. He hated that he had to fight so hard with his beast to stop it from claiming what was rightfully his. He hated the fact that he had to resort to this. She was half-human! Why would the Moon-Goddess curse him like this on top of everything else? He’d caught her scent even before he had walked into the hotel days before, and now it filled the entire suite, taunting him, reminding him how fucked up everything was. “I did,” he answered. “I need a surrogate, and I will pay you handsomely.” “Um... I’ve just walked into this room to clean. You don’t know me; you don't even know my name,” she said. “Layla Carlisle.” Layla looked down at the name tag on her uniform. She covered it briefly before she probably realised it was useless and lowered her hand. But he didn’t need her name tag to know who she was. “Twenty-one years old. High school dropout. You live in a trailer with your father and sister.” Layla’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he sensed her anger. “Have you been stalking me?” she hissed. Dylan snickered. He gave his Beta a look that shut him up before he returned his attention to the human. “No, I haven’t been stalking you,” he said, but he could tell he had already lost the momentum. Layla's anger had grown at an alarming rate, eclipsing even the sweet scent of her arousal. The human stood and smoothed her uniform before she lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. His beast unfurled, his excitement rippling through him at the thought of accepting his mate’s challenge. “I don’t know why you two need to ask a stranger to have your baby, but I don’t think I will be right for the job. I wish you all the best, though,” Layla said. It took him a moment to realise what she meant as she walked over to her cleaning cart and started pulling it out of the room. This was the problem with humans. Feeling the pull of their bond wouldn't have been an issue if she’d had a wolf. He would have marked her the moment he had found her, and she would have been carrying his pup already. “Miss Carlisle, can we talk about this? You haven’t even heard what I’m willing to pay.” “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be your surrogate,” she answered firmly. “I’ll return later to clean your suite.” When she closed the door, he heard her mutter, “It’s always the handsome ones.” She thought he was crazy. And she was right—he lost more of his mind the longer he went without a child and the shorter his time on this earth got. “She thinks we’re gay, Jax,” Dylan pointed out as he sat in the spot she had vacated. “I got that,” he growled. “I don’t think she will change her mind,” Dylan said. “I don’t understand why you can’t pick someone from the pack and be done with it.” He would have had many children already if it had been that easy. Goddess knew how much he had tried. But Fate had messed that up for him, too, and made sure only one woman could carry his children. Only one woman could save them all—his mate. “I told you why.” At least as much as he could. Dylan was not only his Beta; he was also his only friend. Keeping the truth from him was essential. Keeping it from everyone was crucial. It was bad enough that they would have to accept his heir from a woman who was as useless as a human, but he could deal with that better than the panic that the truth would cause. He had no time to soothe anyone or deal with the packs that would circle his territory when they realised he was about to die. As the Alpha King, the repercussions would be astronomical. “I doubt any of our pack would assume they are the Queen just because they have your child. They can do a blood oath—” “Dylan, please,” he sighed as he stood and walked towards the drinks cabinet. It was still morning, but fuck it. He needed something to calm and stop himself from going after the human. To prevent himself from pinning her down and marking her while he buried himself deep inside her body. He closed his eyes as he tried not to imagine what that would feel like, but it was all his wolf wanted and all he could see. Every wolf he’d ever come across dreamed of being lucky enough to one day meet their mate, but he couldn’t understand why anyone would think this was a blessing. It was torture! “Okay. Pick another one if that girl doesn’t want to do it.” Cain growled in his head, ready to attack Dylan for even suggesting that, but he shoved his wolf back and focused on his drink. And just like that, his mind returned to a place he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to think of touching Layla or tasting her. He didn’t want to remember the scent of her arousal. Four days since he first caught Layla’s sweet scent, he was already acting like a lunatic. The first day felt like a gift from the Goddess. He was almost out of time, so finding his mate had given him hope. And then he had seen her. A half-blood. Half-human and cleaning up after everyone else. It felt like a punch in the nuts; he’d wanted to kill someone for this cruel joke. She was not worthy to carry his child; she was not worthy to be the one who saved them all. But there they were. There was no other choice. “Jax—” “Get more information on her. She’s human. You’ll find many weaknesses I can use,” he ordered. “She’s the one I’ve picked, so she’s the one I’ll have.” Layla would have his child one way or another, and then he could finally have some peace. Dylan felt the command in his words and stood up to do as he had ordered. When he sensed his Beta was far enough away from their suite, he picked up his glass and threw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces. If he told Dylan the truth, he would tie the girl up and offer her to him on a silver platter. But then his child would be a product of rape; that was the last thing he wanted. The child would be his legacy, the only thing left of him on this earth, and would carry his blood. He couldn’t taint the child before he had even conceived them. He was a bastard, but not that much. His child would be the best part of him. Layla would change her mind. Humans loved money, and this one, in particular, was drowning in debt. Why hadn’t she wanted to know how much he was offering her? He could solve all her problems in a day if she took his offer. That meant Dylan had to find something else he could use. Something she couldn’t refuse. The growl came louder in his head as his beast showed his displeasure. But he was in charge here, not Cain. They would do things his way, and at the end of it all, Layla could go back to her life because there was no future for them, even if she wasn’t a half-blood. ‘Find her. Mark her,’ Cain growled. ‘Be patient! She hasn’t got a wolf; she doesn’t even know we exist,’ he snapped as he picked up an entire bottle of alcohol and walked towards his bedroom. And marking her was out of the question. He didn’t stay at the Royal Hotel often even though he owned it and it was in his territory, but he was sure Layla hadn’t been around the last time he had been there. Her scent was all over the hotel as if she had marked it. Could anyone else smell it? Did they have that sweet, intoxicating scent turning them inside out? Making them drool? Making them think of nothing else except to claim her? One thing was certain now. If—no, when—Layla agreed to this, he would get her pregnant and then stay the hell away from her. He’d been hard for days, and her scent had made Cain unstable. He didn’t need that complication on top of everything else. Not when he had less than a year left to live. chapter 2 Did she have some sign on her head that said she was a pushover or desperate? Layla pushed the cart with more force than necessary until she was far enough away from the penthouse suite and then leaned against the wall. Her knees were still shaking, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the man’s words or the man himself. It surprised her she hadn’t fallen flat on her face when she’d made her righteous exit. The men were in the most expensive suite in the exclusive hotel; they didn’t need to ask a stranger to help them out. He might have somehow gotten a hold of some of her personal information, but everyone in Wolfdale knew about her. The kid abandoned by her mother. The kid who’d dropped out of school so she could work and take care of her little sister because their father was an alcoholic and a gambling addict. That didn’t mean she had no dignity left. She wouldn’t give up a child! Those men thought they could throw their money around like that, and she would agree just because she wasn’t like them, and that made her blood boil. But in her mind, she still saw the man naked and on top of her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel it. It was a shame he was gay because she was positive he would be great in bed. Her body was still on fire, still trying to get over the shock of coming face to face with such a perfect specimen of a man. A god. He looked like one. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Chiselled jawline, a short beard that probably cost more than her wages to maintain and silky, dark hair styled to look like he’d just rolled out of bed and didn’t give a fuck. He’d turned her knees to jelly and melted her panties in seconds without moving from his seat. Without even cracking a smile. She had never reacted so violently to anyone before. Why was it always the handsome ones that were batshit crazy? She pushed aside the disappointment. The cool wall slightly helped control her overheating body, but sweat still dripped down her back and cleavage. They were in the middle of a heatwave so intense even the hotel’s air conditioning system wasn’t helping. She’d been like that for a few days as if she was coming down with something for the first time in her life. But it was the stranger with the cold ice-blue eyes that had worked her up like that. She shouldn’t care about who he shared his bed with, but something inside her wanted to claw the other guy’s eyes out. It was so strong that she had to make a conscious effort to stop herself from returning to the room. Crazy. She was going crazy. “I don’t pay you to have unscheduled breaks, Layla.” Her eyes snapped open to see Andrea looking down her nose at her as usual. And it took a special kind of person to look down their nose at someone who towered over them. Andrea barely reached her chest. “I’m sorry, Miss Roberts,” she said, lowering her head. “I’m almost finished.” Her supervisor insisted on being called Miss Roberts since her promotion, as if that would make her more respectable. Everyone knew how she got that job. “You’re a mess,” Andrea said, wrinkling her nose. “And you smell. Clean yourself up and do something with that hair. We have important guests here today; I don’t have time to deal with you.” She self-consciously wiped the sweat on her forehead and patted her hair down, even though she knew it wouldn’t help. Her red, curly hair was just a giant unruly puff above her head, and her pale blue uniform had sweat stains under her armpits. Whatever sweat that wasn’t being sucked up by her hair was dripping down her face like crazy. Another reason why that stranger had to be out of his mind to make such an offer to her while she looked like that. Andrea turned and carried on down the hallway in her formal suit and high heels. Her manager did indeed look distracted today, so she supposed she had to be grateful for that because usually, she would have shouted at her and threatened to fire her at least a hundred times already. With a sigh, she put Andrea and the handsome stranger out of her mind as she continued cleaning. By the time she finally left the hotel that evening, she looked even worse, but she went out through the staff entrance and straight to her little car without bumping into Andrea again. There was a shower with her name on it at home. It took her almost half an hour to leave the nicer neighbourhoods and cross the tracks to hers. It was so cliched, but the wealthy had separated themselves from the rest of the residents. The difference was stark, but she was used to it. There was nothing shiny on her side, and all the cars were old bangers like hers. Everything needed fixing or was broken beyond repair. But she felt more at home there, even if she itched to leave the dump and discover what was beyond Wolfdale. She parked outside their old trailer home and sighed as she walked in. The TV was blaring, and her father lay on the couch, already passed out. She didn’t have to go near him to know he had been drinking again. The day’s mail was on the counter near the door, placed there where she wouldn’t miss it, and it was unopened even though it had her father’s name on it. Bills. Overdue bills. The stranger's offer popped back into her mind, but she pushed it away. She didn’t need to sell a piece of herself to pay the bills. She sighed again as she picked the mail up and headed for the tiny bedroom she shared with her sister. She carefully opened the creaky door in case Britney was asleep but saw her hunched over her books instead. A small smile formed on her lips. It was worth it. All the shit she had to do to feed her sister was worth it. Brit would forge a better life all by herself, away from this dump. And then she would finally be free, too. Layla felt like she’d hardly closed her eyes when her alarm went off. She always woke up early to make sure Brit didn’t forget to eat her breakfast before school. Her sister always did that, as if by skipping meals, she would lighten the load on her shoulders. There was hardly anything in the fridge, and she probably couldn’t do a proper grocery shop for a while with the bills she had to pay. A second job would have been great, but no one was hiring. Another pitfall of living in a small town in the middle of nowhere. She had to do her best until they could leave for greener pastures. And she couldn’t leave until Brit left for college. With a loud yawn, she took the eggs out and set about making an omelette for Brit with a couple of slices of toast. She’d just poured herself a cup of coffee when she noticed her father through the window. In just his pyjama bottoms, his long, brunette hair was a tangled mess, and his beard was weeks old. Her father didn’t care that the neighbours always saw him like this. He was pacing and seemed to be in a heated argument on the phone. He looked tense and had a scowl as he gestured with his free hand like the person on the other side could see him. What the hell had that man done now? She wouldn’t get involved. Gerald Carlisle hadn’t been a real father to them in a very long time. “Smells good.” She turned from the window to smile at her sister, who’d already dressed for school. Brit was the spitting image of their father with her brunette locks and hazel eyes. She was also the shortest in the family. People never believed they were sisters because she looked like a sasquatch beside Brit. “Aren’t you having any?” Brit asked. “No, I’ll eat at the hotel,” she lied. That was her excuse whenever she didn’t have enough money to feed all of them. Andrea never allowed them to take even a piece of fruit from the kitchen. Their father wrenched the door open and marched in. His large frame took up most of the space in the small kitchen. He didn’t even bother speaking to them as he went straight to the fridge and pulled a beer out. That was the one thing abundant in their house. When he just threw himself onto the one sofa they had in the house and put the TV on, Brit shook her head and stood. “I’m going to school,” she mumbled. Layla looked at the half-eaten omelette on Brit’s plate. “Finish your breakfast,” she said firmly. “I’ve lost my appetite,” Brit said as she walked to their bedroom. Layla couldn’t help glaring at the disgrace of a man who had already become engrossed in his program. Gerald acted like he was the only one in the family her mother had abandoned—he’d wasted eleven years pining over someone who didn’t want any of them. It made her furious, but she didn’t have to put up with him much longer. Brit mumbled a goodbye when she came out of their room with her school bag. “Wait.” She pulled some money out of her pocket and gave a few notes to Brit. It was supposed to have gone in the money jar she kept hidden for emergencies or to top up Brit’s college fund, but keeping her sister healthy was more important. She would find a way to replace it. “Layla_” “Take it. Have something to eat at school,” she insisted. She didn’t miss that Gerald had become very interested in that small exchange and would probably ask her for money, too. She finished Brit’s breakfast without giving him any attention before she went to shower and dress for work. She didn’t bother straightening her hair because it was still early morning, but the heat was already unbearable. At least the hotel washed their uniforms daily, so she didn’t have to worry about the sweat stains. She just tied her hair up into a neater puff and looked at herself in the small, cracked mirror in the corner of their cramped room. The inspection was brief because, unlike Brit, she was the image of her mother. Her green eyes were a shade she’d never seen on anyone else, and it was unnerving. The entire package made her feel like an outsider in her family. She reached for her bag and froze when she heard a crash and loud voices. Her heart hammered loudly, and her hands shook as she inched the door open to stop it from creaking before peeking out. A large man stood over her father, who he had smashed through their wooden coffee table. Gerald tried to get back to his feet, but the man punched him down again. She took a sharp breath when she saw how helpless her father was as he pleaded for mercy. What had he done now? “I already gave you several chances, Gerald,” another man said. He sat in her father’s spot on the chair. She could only see the back of his blond head, but it looked greasy and slicked back. Like a baddie out of a horrible B-grade horror movie. She wanted to slip out through her window and let her father suffer alone, but that stupid thing in her head reminded her he was still family. And this was Brit’s home; she couldn’t allow anything bad to happen here. With a calming breath, she opened the door wider and walked out of the bedroom. “I swear, I only need a little more time,” Gerald said. “I’m good for it this time.” “You said that last time,” the man said. As he stood, he looked back as if he had already known she was standing behind him. He was young, with a scar across his face that gave him a terrifying look. He wore a suit, but he had a gold tooth and chain around his neck like he really copied his sense of style from a terrible movie. She felt a cold shiver down her spine when he pulled his coloured sunglasses off his face, and his grey eyes looked over her body from top to bottom. Her skin crawled at the blatant violation. “Hello, Layla,” the man said. Great. A second stranger knew her name. When she didn’t answer, he laughed and looked back at her father. “You’re lucky this beautiful angel is here,” the man said. “I think you know what you can give me if you can’t pay up. I’ll be in touch.” The man turned back to her with another sinister grin before walking out, and the enormous man standing over her father followed. She waited until she heard their car drive off before she stormed to her father. “How much do you owe?” she hissed. “Not much. Just twenty grand.” Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she heard that figure. Not much? That amount would go a long way in sending Brit off to college. “How?! What did you do with such a large amount of money? You haven’t paid bills here or taken care of us in a long time!” Gerald gingerly sat back in his chair, ignoring the mess the men had made in the living room. “It was supposed to be a sure bet,” Gerald mumbled. “I would have paid off everything and then had enough to fix things.” Her blood went cold. Her father’s gambling had landed them in the trailer park to start with. “You said you would stop. You said you’d never gamble aga—” “Well, I lied,” Gerald snapped. “And I obviously can’t fix this myself, so you’ll have to think of your sister. I’ll give him what he wants and be done with it.” She remembered the look in the man’s eyes when he’d looked at her, and her meagre breakfast almost came back up. “And what’s that, Dad?” she whispered. “You. I’m going to give him you.” chapter 3 “You’re out of your damn mind if you think for one second that I’ll let you pimp me out!” Somewhere between her mother leaving him with two small girls to raise on his own and now, Gerald Carlisle must have lost his damn mind. Completely. “You go with him, or we all die. Simple as that,” her father said. “We don’t have to pay for your mistakes! I’ll take Brit and leave,” she snarled. “Brit is still seventeen, and I’m her father. You can’t take her anywhere,” Gerald said as he stood up again. Her father could be intimidating if he wanted to be. He had never been violent towards them, but she knew it wasn’t because he wasn’t capable of it. She had picked him up from the police station after many bar fights often enough to know the damage he could cause. And she could see the desperation in his hazel eyes as he approached her. “And I don’t see you dragging Brit out of school in her senior year when you want her to graduate,” Gerald continued. “And that’s what I want, too. Britney has a better chance than us to get out of this shit hole. She can make something of herself. But you, Layla... You’re a high school dropout. Scrubbing rich people’s toilets is all you’ll ever be good at. You might as well do this for your sister.” She sucked in her breath. His words cut her deep. Gerald had sliced her open and poured salt all over her wounds. “And whose fault is that?” she whispered. “Stop blaming me. You’re resourceful. If you’d wanted to stay in school, you would have found a way,” Gerald snarled. “Besides, you look just like your mother. I’m sure you’ll make more money on your back than at that hotel.” She gasped. Anger mixed with her pain as she turned away from her father and walked back to her bedroom. Tears fell to her cheeks, but she angrily wiped them away. She wouldn’t let her father ruin their plans. Her sister was the only good thing in her life—she would not let Gerald break her, too. She would pay the debt off herself if she had to. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d cleaned up Gerald’s messes. It would set them back, but at least Brit could still leave when she graduated. Layla stood and locked her door before easing her bed away from the wall. She pushed one of the square panels on the wall until it shifted enough for her to squeeze her fingers through and pull it open. And then nothing. There was nothing in the hole. Her jar... Her emergency fund was gone. Her anger overtook her pain as she stood and unlocked the door. She wrenched the door open with force and marched to the living room to stand in front of her father. “Where is it?” she growled. “You’re blocking the TV, Layla,” her father said with disinterest as he sipped a fresh beer. As if they hadn’t just had some wannabe gangsters threaten their lives. “Where is my money?” she asked, her voice shaky. Her chest was tight, and her breathing harsh. Her body trembled as fury mixed with despair. That jar was everything. All their hopes and dreams for the future. All their problems solved. And it was just gone. How could Gerald sink so low? How could a father... Gerald stopped mid-sip to look at her and then glanced away again. But the guilt was so apparent on his face. “I had to pay him something the first time he came,” he mumbled. All her strength sapped from her body, and her legs became too weak to hold her. She sank to the floor among the debris from the broken table, tears filling her eyes again as she looked at the man who could so casually throw such a bombshell on her. How could he rip their lives apart like this? Did they really not mean anything to him? No, they didn’t. They hadn’t meant anything to Gerald since their mother had left him. “I will not be a part of your mess,” she hissed as she stood up. “I will help you pay him back with money, not my body, only because I won’t let you taint Britney.” “And how will you help me? You earn peanuts,” Gerald sneered. “I earn something, which is more than I can say for you. Get a job and learn some principles. It’s not okay to sell your children!” She marched back to the bedroom to put everything back in place and pushed her pain to the back of her mind. It was a skill she had learned too early in her life so she could function. Her father would always be a disappointment. The best she could do was try to get Brit away from him, even if it meant leaving before she graduated. The stranger’s offer popped back into her mind. Shame filled her when she considered it a little longer than she should have. But she could do this without his help. She would have to ask for more hours at work— Work! Shit! She grabbed her bag and car keys and rushed out of the house without another word to her father. Being late would mean a warning, and she couldn’t risk this job, not now. Half an hour later, she snuck in through the staff entrance and thankfully found the staff room empty. By the time she’d changed into her uniform and work shoes, she was confident she could get away with this if no one saw her. But as she pushed her cart out of the cleaning closet, she found Andrea waiting outside, arms crossed and tapping her foot. “This is the second time this month, Layla.” Right. The first time her junk of a car had given up on her and she’d had to take a bus. She’d forgotten about that. This would be her second strike. One more, and she was out. “I’m so sorry, Miss Roberts. I had a family emergency.” “I don’t believe you. You could have called. You think you can waltz around the place and do whatever you want, but the world doesn’t revolve around you,” Andrea said as she pulled a notepad from her pocket. “The rest of us understand we have responsibilities here. This will be your last warning.” “Andrea_” “Miss Roberts,” Andrea hissed. “I understand you’re only twenty-one, Layla, but you must learn to be more responsible. Get to work.” She sighed. How could she ask for more hours if Andrea was on the warpath? Maybe she could pull it off if she gave her some time to cool off and tried at the end of the day. If that didn’t work, going over Andrea’s head to ask the manager directly would be her last option. Or she could walk around town after work to beg someone else to hire her part-time. She started working on autopilot, scrubbing a million toilets and cleaning up after the entitled guests of the exclusive hotel while her mind was lost in trying to find a solution. What kind of man would think selling their child was the best way out of their problems? What kind of man would demand that of somebody else? She didn’t know who this man who’d invaded their home was, but she knew she would never give herself to him. Just the thought of it was making her nauseous. A few hours later, she came up to the penthouse suite—the room where that handsome stranger had made the ridiculous request. There was too much to worry about that she hadn’t thought of him all day, but he filled her head completely the second she knocked on his door. And once again, her body started to react and overheat. There was no answer, thankfully. She didn’t know what to do if he made the same offer again. She unlocked the door, pushed her cart in, and had to stop and squeeze her thighs together when she caught a pleasant scent. It had to be his cologne. Spicy and masculine, just like he was. Her toes curled again, just remembering what he looked like. She’d only seen him for minutes, but his image seemed to have burnt into her head. But she had to get over it. He was gay. “Housekeeping,” she called out in case the two men hadn’t heard her. Maybe they were still in bed or in the shower. Again, the urge to claw the other man’s eyes out took her over. What the hell was wrong with her? She left the cart in the living area and entered the guest bathroom. The heat was worse than the day before, but it hadn’t bothered her much until she walked into the penthouse suite. One look in the mirror told her she would have to tidy herself up before she saw Andrea again. Strands of her hair had fallen out of her puff, and rivers of sweat were pouring down her face. Her uniform was beyond saving. It was a good thing the stranger wasn’t there to see all that mess. She splashed cold water on her face, but that didn’t even begin to cool her down. She looked longingly at the shower behind her and then the sunken tub. What she wouldn’t give to soak in a cool bath or stand under a cool spray. But she still had a million more rooms to clean, and showering in the guest rooms would be an automatic dismissal. She splashed more water on her face and then wet one of the clean face towels to cool her heated neck. That didn’t help much, either. She was on fire, and nothing would put the flames out. She wet the towel again as she undid all the buttons of her shirt and untucked it from her skirt. Then she placed the cool cloth on her chest. That was better. She sighed in relief when her body started to behave. If the heatwave didn’t break soon, she’d be a puddle on the floor. Half an hour later, she was considerably cooler and late to start the cleaning. There was nothing she could do about her sweaty uniform. At least she was invisible to the guests. All the clientele had money coming out of their eyeballs; the help was always invisible to people like that. She picked up the towels she’d used and walked out of the bathroom to her cleaning cart. And in walked the biggest man she had ever seen. He had been sitting when she’d first seen him, so she hadn’t realised how tall he was. She didn’t often meet people that much taller than her. Her body heated again as if she hadn’t just spent all her allocated time cooling herself down. She met that ice-blue gaze again, and her insides melted. He still looked as angry as he had when they had met—maybe that was his default expression. Maybe rich people looked at others like that because they assumed someone would ask them for money. But a shiver went down her spine at just how cold he was. Still, she didn’t look away. There was just something about him... Her heart drummed so loudly she could hear it. Something washed over her whole body that felt gentle and overwhelming at the same time. Her body hummed with a need that shocked her with its intensity. She’d been hot before, but now she was burning up, and that fire shot straight down to her core. “Why are you just standing there? Move out of the way.” Someone’s voice drifted into her ears. It took her a moment to realise that Mr. Sex-On-Legs’ boyfriend was standing next to him, and he looked at her just as coldly. What was with these people? Did they behave like assholes everywhere they went? The urge to attack him returned, but she knew the consequences would be even more significant than losing her job if she gave in. “Are you sure you want her?” the man continued, looking at her from top to bottom. “She can’t even follow simple instructions.” Her gaze returned to the ice-blue ones. The anger in them almost knocked her back. Was he upset that she had denied his illogical request? “Cover yourself up,” the sexy man growled. That voice again. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying something that would get her fired or arrested and squeezed her thighs together again. She couldn’t help herself. His full lips parted slightly as if he was breathing through his mouth, and his chest rose and fell as if he’d been running. He looked like he was close to ripping her head off. “Cover yourself up.” His words penetrated her lust-addled brain like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown on her. She looked down at her chest, remembering she had unbuttoned it to cool down. Everything was on display! She was bursting out of her old, lacy bra in front of strangers! Gasping, she clutched the shirt together and turned around. Her face heated, and she knew the colour would match her hair. “I was looking for you, Layla. Judging by this warm welcome, I take it you’ve changed your mind?” 🔥Reading more content about <The Alpha King'sCurse> on the WhosNovel.👇👇👇	INSTALL_MOBILE_APP	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.b	PadNovel Zy One	https://www.facebook.com/61555138762971/	2	1969-12-31 18:00	Install now	play.google.com	VIDEO		http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.book.padnovel	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461319645_8337785146328299_4469162674817983990_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_LmWpk1sBocQ7kNvgG0BfPe&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ADI9SafH_7FguD3hKN9Gfkw&oh=00_AYBpnUvXLhGhxAuSKot7kH3TjRSlFKBbiB6fnzD78mSPoA&oe=6704251B	PERSON_PROFILE	PadNovel Zy One	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,067,579	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2067319}'	No	2024-10-03 02:52	active	1567		Discover the magic of fall in Downtown Knoxville! Wander down Gay Street, where the crisp autumn air meets charming local shops, cozy coffee spots, and vibrant fall colors. 🍁 Leisure Lofts puts you at the heart of it all, offering the perfect retreat just steps away from Knoxville’s best seasonal experiences. Whether you’re here for a weekend escape or an extended stay, enjoy all the comfort and warmth fall has to offer. Book your unforgettable autumn getaway today! 🍂 #LeisureLofts #ExploreKnoxville #FallGetaway #GayStreet #KnoxvilleAdventures Stay in The Old City🪩 https://www.airbnb.com/slink/zDNACUfl Stay on Gay Street🦋 https://www.airbnb.com/slink/qrF6EUQi #SmallBusiness #AirBnb #VRBO #DowntownKnox #KnoxvilleCharm #EastTennessee	MESSAGE_PAGE		Leisure Lofts	https://www.facebook.com/100088510540839/	343	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		MULTI_IMAGES			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461743190_438780902027272_5805586157573845809_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vQ0Nf2SsijUQ7kNvgELCkzt&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A0LX4zUHEq4z-pNVeRZI3X5&oh=00_AYAiMEiBZ1KwYB5pw6FLi1-gPMYDdgZXY5yBMoOHoOnKhQ&oe=67041BC6	PERSON_PROFILE	Leisure Lofts	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,064,567	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064524}'	No	2024-10-01 19:21	active	1565	😍Read the next chapters👉	Carissa Sinclair sat on a chair with her hands folded in her lap. She looked at the man before her—her husband whom she had spent a year waiting for. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife and equal to you." "Calling her that doesn't change anything. Ultimately, she’s really just a concubine in disguise," Carissa replied, remaining indifferent. Barrett frowned. "What does it matter? Aurora and I developed feelings for each other on the battlefield. We earned this marriage through our achievements. I don’t need your approval." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Developed feelings, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett had left to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before leaving, he had lifted his wife’s veil and promised her, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didn’t understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting her brow. Barrett spoke of Aurora Yates with a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother." Carissa blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need. She’s a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. If she meets you, she might say things you won’t like. Why put yourself through that?" Barrett refused instantly. She calmly said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?"	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	146	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/458437127_477747965244290_4322993807472622297_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VOK2lIRUHHUQ7kNvgEAxkDy&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&oh=00_AYDrMTiMGIidb2YERywcSxL5xdc2xBMyF5Ukx9_hW9QjiQ&oe=670261DF	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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