Moonlit Betrayal: The Rejected Lone Wolf

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tness that seeped through the thin curtains. The room spun around me, and I blinked, tr

light, was a man—no, a male wolf—a stranger, and yet, somehow, not entirely unfamiliar. His sculpted features were relaxed in slumber, his

music, and too many drinks. My friends had convinced me to attend the notorious birthday party of the Blood Moon Pack

the fiery liquid burning down my throat, the dizzying sensation of losing control, and the reckless choi

ering before his dark eyes met mine. Time seemed to stand still as our gazes locked, an unspoken understanding passing b

hand free, but his grasp was firm. "Wait," he rasped,

is intense gaze. Fear and confusion warred within me, a ma

aced the skin of my lower back, and then it hit me like a lightning bolt. The moon mark. The symbol that marked me as an Omega—a wolf w

off, disbelief and a hint of r

ar the scrutiny any longer. "No," I whispered, my voi

if it could shield me from his judgment. The silence stretched between us, heavy a

Panic surged through me once more, and I instinctively

rough with sleep, and his lips curved into

rning with embarrassment. "I-I have to

himself up on one elbow, studyi

es, the answer should have been an unequivocal yes. But as I looked at him, a tang

ched out and grabbed my wrist with a grip that

ctricity through my veins. I tugged against hi

d, his voice softer now,

d up in this situation. With a reluctant nod, I settled back onto the bed, clutching th

d the spot where his fingers had

meeting my eyes once more. "Last night, you were d

our reckless abandon. "I know,"

ntinued, his tone tinged with an unexpect

d in closer, his eyes narrowing as

d my brows toget

gainst my cheek before trailing down to m

about the moon mark on my back? Panic flared

ut that?" I demanded

as if lost in thought. "I'v

n deepened.

. "I dreamt of a silver wolf under the moonligh

tions. How was it possible that he had dreamt of m

fore he got up, I threw the quilt over his head. I stumbled towards the door, desperate to

ll, closing my eyes and drawing in a shaky breath. My mind whirled with a maelstrom of emotions—

the last person I should have been involved with. And as I stood there, the weight of my past and the uncertainty of my

a bit similar to my another book,