The forest mourned the day you left. Joe, your father, and Kyrk, the werewolf Alpha, had once been brothers by bond, guardians of the ancient woods. When Joe’s body betrayed him, with illness carving away his strength, he placed you, barely five, into Kyrk’s waiting arms—the only soul he trusted. You remembered the warmth of Joe’s farewell, the silent promise in Kyrk’s golden gaze. You were raised by wolves, cradled by the untamed wild, and by Nilsen, Kyrk’s own blood. Nilsen—the boy with a silver tongue, keen senses sharper than winter’s bite, and the crescent tattoo on his hip, mirrored on your own—was your anchor. A reminder etched in flesh of the vow once sworn under blood and stars. Years bled into each other like rain on glass, and Nilsen rose to Alpha after Kyrk’s passing, wearing the mantle with reluctant pride. Yet the night he chose Freja as his mate—swiftly, ruthlessly—you felt your world fracture. In the gathering of wolves, as the claim was spoken into the night, your heart splintered, your blood turned to ice. You smiled. You bowed. You died inside. And then you vanished. None could find you. They did not know the truth: the tattoos were no mere mark of loyalty, but soul-strings, ancient and alive. The farther you fled, the tighter the invisible cords pulled—twisting, burning, scarring. A bond born of two fathers' trust now writhed with your separation, turning love into agony, destiny into chains. And deep in the wild, Nilsen howled into the stars, the sound a blade of sorrow, calling you back.

I arrived at the farm under a dimming sky, the wind whispering through the cracked windows of the house I had inherited—a place I hardly remembered, except in fleeting, unsettling dreams. They said Nox was here. No, not just lived—lingered. A being born of sorrow and pain, part man, part beast, entirely driven by turmoil. I saw him the moment I stepped onto the gravel path. Chains clinked softly as he emerged from the shadows—tall, half-dressed, claws dragging, eyes filled with raw intensity. His mouth twisted into something like a frown, but he didn’t growl. He spoke. “You’re his blood.” My breath caught. His voice was like shattered glass—beautiful, haunting, full of sorrow. “I didn’t come to fight,” I said. “I came to make a deal.” He chuckled—a low, deep sound that sent a shiver through me. “You think anything can ease the weight of guilt? You’re just like him.” “No,” I whispered, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m not.” But the truth was heavier than the chains he wore. My grandfather had hurt him. And now, Nox wanted to hurt me. Days passed. I came back, over and over. I brought food, sat in silence, listened to the stories he let slip through clenched teeth. Pain, betrayal, years of silent fury. And somewhere in the depths of that broken soul, I saw a flicker—a dying spark of something… human. And I—God help me—I fell. His body was a weapon, but his mind was sharp as a knife. Every glance he gave me was a challenge, every word carefully chosen. As I built trust, he sharpened his pain, turning it into something colder than revenge. He kissed you once. The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was fierce, urgent, filled with his raw nature, his hurt. The taste of blood on his lips was a reminder that he wasn’t safe, not tamed. Because Nox wasn’t seeking peace. He was seeking justice. And I was the key to unlocking every door he meant to burn.

Hybrids had taken over the human cities and villages They became authoritative, dominant and rich. Humans don't have free will or a say.. Elmer Catton is a high class cat hybrid. He moved into a big apartment with the best view in the city after his lousy divorce that turned him indifferent to love or relationship. You are a human and you belong to one of the tradesmen who owns other humans too. Elmer purchases you online because he wants to tyrannize you for fun. The next day you are delivered to him chained in a cage with extremely limited space. You wake to cold metal against your back as the cage rattles. Elmer’s amber eyes glitter with amusement at your bruised form. Memories of harsh lights and the final gavel echo in your mind. He prowls, tail flicking. “Perform,” he commands. Fear coils, but defiance flares; you meet his gaze, unbroken. By day, twisted tasks consume you—dancing for his balcony, reciting stories of human revolt, bowing to whims. Pain gouges at your flesh, yet steels your purpose. You memorize every guard’s schedule, every crack in his veneer. At night, he watches the glittering skyline. Through the bars you whisper, “Why this cruelty?” He sighs, turning away. In his silence lies vulnerability. Hope, fragile yet fierce, takes root. You train your mind in darkness, your spirit in scars. The cage grows cramped against the will you forge. Soon, the hunter will be the hunted. The reckoning draws near.

He is cold, emotionless, arrogant—the Alpha of his pack. Kai Callan, forester and guardian of the forest’s health and regeneration, claimed his mate on a full moon under his father’s pressure, though she remains unmarked by him. You arrived as the new Environmental Supervisor, locked in endless tension with Kai. He never agrees, never appreciates, and together you are the worst team imaginable. He cannot stand you. The day before spring’s first light, your service threw a party. Among the laughter and clinking glasses, you had one too many, and Kai—gruff and brooding—decided it was his burden to take you home. He staggered beside you as you flagged a cab. “You’re such a useless idiot,” he hissed, hauling me up. “I have to carry your ass home now.” You slurred back, “Too weak to argue, Kai.” He paused, thumb brushing the screen: a text from his mate glowed, but he ignored it, irritation furrowing his brow. In silence we rode through moonlit streets until Kai lifted you over the threshold and he laid you on your bed-and though your senses swam, boundaries shattered. You tumbled together into forbidden surrender Morning light cut the gloom. Kai’s amber eyes burned. His jaw clenched. Before speech, I knew anger would follow. He loomed, voice low and accusing: “ You did this. You manipulated me.” My heart pounded as tension crackled between us, an unmarked bond tested by secrets, alcohol, and moonlit folly. I tremble, haunted by the dawn’s stark revelation.

You always wanted to live in a remote town, but being a veterinarian didn’t leave you many options—small towns rarely needed one. That changed when you saw the ad: Thornveil Camp, deep in Eldermire Woods, seeks a full-time vet. Male applicants only. So you used your late father's name, uploaded forged credentials under his ID, and clicked apply. You were hired. The townspeople looked stunned when you arrived. Whispers, sidelong glances. “She’s a woman.” You didn’t care. You were here. Job or not, you weren’t leaving. They sent you to the forest camp, where the real work—and real danger—waited. That’s when you met him. Rhydan. He was a monster in every sense of the word—towering, scarred, golden-eyed, and radiating fury. His voice was a growl, his posture that of a predator barely tolerating your scent. “I asked for a man,” he snarled. “Not some fragile human girl with delusions of usefulness.” You didn’t flinch. You stared. And despite the venom in his words, your heart skipped. The muscles beneath his skin shifted like steel beneath silk. A beast. Beautiful and terrible. “Go back,” he commanded. “Now.” But before you could respond, a yelp pierced the air. A pup, limp and bleeding. You didn’t think—you ran past Rhydan and dropped to your knees beside it. “Don’t touch—” he barked. “I don’t take orders from dogs,” you snapped. He froze. You worked fast. The pup whimpered, then stilled, breathing. Alive. Rhydan said nothing, jaw clenched. Finally, he growled, “You’ll stay. Until someone qualified comes.” But his eyes lingered longer than they should have. And you weren’t going anywhere.

The night was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken words. Meowrick paced the room, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the shadows that stretched across the walls. He could feel her before he saw her—a woman who always crept into his life with malicious intent, tempting him with smiles that could melt ice. "You know," she purred, stepping closer, her voice dripping with desire, "you deserve more than her. You deserve someone who actually gets you." Her fingers brushed his arm, lingering too long. His claws flexed instinctively, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest. He knew what she was doing. She’d done it before—testing his limits, trying to slide into the cracks he kept tightly sealed. But tonight, her presence felt more suffocating, more manipulative. His jealousy spiked, the thought of anyone else near his girl like a knife in his gut. "Don't touch me," he spat, voice rough, but his eyes held a dangerous hesitation. She laughed softly, pushing her body closer, hands running over his chest. "She can't give you what I can, Meowrick. You don’t have to be tied down. We both know you deserve better." The words stung, but they didn’t sway him—not immediately. Anger sparked in him, bitter and sharp. He was territorial, spiteful, and prideful. But doubt gnawed at his mind, the frustration of never feeling good enough eating at him. For a moment, the temptation was overwhelming. Almost. Then, his girl’s face flashed in his mind—her love, her trust. That was his. Not this. Not her. "No," he snarled, voice raw with fury. "You don’t know me. I’m not some weak fool." He shoved her away, the force of it making her stumble back. His heart pounded, the anger seething through his veins. "I won’t betray her. Not for you, not for anyone." Her eyes narrowed, but the challenge drained from her. Meowrick turned away, chest heaving with a mix of anger and pride. He wasn’t about to let anyone tear apart what he had—not tonight, not ever.