Summary

"That is enough now," I say, standing to my feet shakily. "That is as much of your lies that I can take." He is quiet for a moment. In the blink of an eye, he closes the distance between us and fingers reach for me. I jerk back, trying to get away before he can touch me, but he is fast. Very fast. His fingers grasp my neck and I scream when he leans in sharply and sinks his teeth into my neck, marking me. Damning me to hell. How I got here? I have no blathering idea. I'm a Werewolf. The only Werewolf in a school of Lycans. I know what you're thinking. Aren't werewolves and Lycans the same? Trust me, they are not. It wasn't supposed to go this way. I should be in the Academy for Werewolves. I should be worshiped as the Alpha King's daughter and treated with love and respect. I should be threading the halls with my mate, hands entwined. But here I am, eating dirt from the hands of the hottest, meanest male in school. Rune Wilder, son of the Lycan King. It doesn't make it any better that the Goddess's Prophecy is upon us. The Hekate, Bringer of All Ruin has awakened. I must work with the bastard Lycan Prince to prevent the annihilation of our people. I hate this stupid school. I hate the Lycans. I want an out of this, but I have none. Can it get any worse? Yes. The Hekate wants me. For 50% off to access all books use code: Steph04

Genre: Fantasy,Romance

Author: Authoress Estevania

Status: Complete

Chapters: 80

Rating: 4.8 (45 reviews)

Age Rating: 18+

This is a sample

Prologue

"You poisoned me!"

"And that too was your fault. You don't get to ruin my relationships because I was trying to save you from your poor taste in women and--"

Rune rears back like I have stabbed him with a sword. "My poor taste in women?"

He leans in, staring deeply in my eyes as he adds in a low, deadly whisper, "And who would you peg as the right choice for me, Red?"

Red.

I hate when he calls me that.

I want to tell him that but his fingers suddenly cup my cheek, pushing my head back so I can look at him. My body jerks from the contact and when I start to move back, I collide with the closet door.

Shit.

My heart slams into my ribcage as pure, feline excitement courses through me. Perhaps it is the alcohol, but my wolf is stirring, purring with excitement.

"You?"

His warm breath that reeks of alcohol tickles my nostrils and somehow, something so little has me trembling with need under his fingertips.

I shouldn't have drank so much. I think he's drunk too. This isn't right. This should not be happening.

"Hands off, Rune," I say, but there is little protest in my voice as I get swept by a warm rising ocean.

His dark eyes drop from my eyes to my lips and a sharp sound escapes him. There, in his eyes, I see a crack. The cold, ruthless demeanor of his cracks and the things I glimpse between those cracks has me melting into his touch.

"This shouldn't--"

Rune's lips slam into mine, knocking the air out of me. My world shatters. I shatter. My knees buckle and I fall.

I fall into him.

My back slams into the door of my closet, hard enough to rip the oak door, but I barely feel it. Not as a fervent, urgent need I have never known with any man fills me to the brim.

His insistent lips part my mouth, filling me with violent tremors as his tongue slides over the roof of my mouth. He presses me harder against the wall and his free hand cups my ass, pulling me against him.

I hate him. I absolutely hate him.

But I moan for him, like I never have for anyone else.

I hate that he can do this to me. I hate that my body reacts to him and betrays me. I hate Rune Wilder.

But I hate myself more.