THE AWAKENING

“I’ve only seen part of the file,” he admitted. “They died shortly after you were born and given to the adoption agency. The records were mysteriously destroyed, which made finding the infant impossible.” He looked uncomfortable. “You have to realize, any offspring from their union would’ve been dangerous. They’d known the risk and chose their path anyway.”

Someone had killed her parents? She shuddered, saddened for two people she’d never known but had passed on this deadly legacy. “It’s not right that their only crime was falling in love.”

“Life is cruel,” he said simply. “Blame the gods for drafting such a prophecy to rule our lives.”

Prophecy. Everything felt surreal, as if it were happening to someone else and she was watching from the sideline. It seemed almost tragically comical that mere days ago she’d been stressed about something as inconsequential as her mid-terms.

Now, she had to carry the burden of some loathsome prophecy that made her the grand prize in a supernatural war. She squeezed her eyes shut, fervently wishing she were trapped in a nightmare and if she focused intently, she’d force herself awake.

Except, this nightmare was real. A small, hiccup of fear rattled her spine. The sound of moisture dripping pricked at her nerves. Everything seemed magnified.

Suddenly, she became aware of a prickling heat dancing along her skin and she wiped away the beads of sweat that gathered at her hairline.

Sweat dripped along her ribcage as her internal temperature began to steadily rise. Oh no, she thought with rising panic. Not now!

She looked up at Cristophe and he started when her eyes dilated and everything became hazed in red in her vision. “Cristophe…” she gasped, bending over as a fresh stab of arousal spiraled through her.

“You are phasing again, too soon,” he muttered, catching her as she fell to the ground. “You’re on fire, damn it. You’re not supposed to phase so quickly! You should’ve had at least a few days to recover.”

“Don’t let me die,” she pleaded, gripping his shirt. “Please! I never asked for any of this.”

The arousal turned to pain as her channel slicked with moist heat, needing to be filled. The emptiness of her core created waves of pain and need that caused her to cry out with agony. “Oh God! I can’t handle this! Please help me, Cristophe!”

covering her. Even the slightest touch of the fabric

was her enemy and captor. She needed to feel

of her nipples were reddened and throbbing, while her

from the swelling and her pussy quivered as juices dribbled from her

“I can’t seem to help myself,” he admitted, shocked at his own actions as he fumbled with his belt and

was so different from her wolf lovers but she felt insatiable. This was

and she was helpless to stop it. She slipped his cock into her mouth,

her wet and willing mouth. She felt drugged, beyond control. She needed cock after cock. One would

thought. Cristophe pushed her away before he could cum in her mouth and she fell back only to sink onto her

slammed his cock inside her, rough and hard, just the way she liked it. Just like her wolves. He gripped her hips for better leverage and pumped his cock into her

deep inside her, making her

air between them. He grunted as he buried his cock deep inside her, touching her womb with the bulbous head, pounding her pussy

hard as he could, punctuating each thrust with nasty talk befitting a sailor

spoke to something deep inside her and she shuddered as she released more cream in her channel, losing herself in the

take it all,” he demanded in a harsh

balls slapping hard against her ass

uttered a throaty groan as he poured his fluid into her, soaking

deposited into her

agony had receded, replaced with the soft

her feet and then walked to the pool. She sank into

different men in as many hours, but her internal heat had subsided and for that she was inordinately