Wolves of obsession

Name: Wolves of obsession
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

lilynkechi0

Adventure | Ongoing

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Keisha Reed thought surviving her past was the hardest thing she'd ever do-until two dangerously powerful alphas walked into her life. Damian Grey is cold, brutal, and possessive-the kind of man who doesn't ask permission. A wolf with haunted eyes and a dark past that ties him to Keisha in ways she can't yet understand. He says she belongs to him. He says he's here to protect her. But protection comes at a price-and with kisses that steal her breath and touch that sets her soul on fire, Keisha isn't sure if he's her salvation or her undoing. Then there's Lucien Devereaux-seductive, calculated, and utterly intoxicating. A rival alpha with a voice like silk and eyes full of secrets. He wants Keisha too... but not just for her body. Her blood holds power-power that could crown kings or destroy entire packs. Caught between two alphas, hunted for the rare blood in her veins, and haunted by a past she can't outrun, Keisha must uncover the truth of who-and what-she really is. Because wolves are circling. And they don't just want her love. They want to claim her.

Thriller Modern Love triangle Attractive Alpha Age gap Romance Kickass Heroine Werewolf

Chapter 5 A wolf between

Yesterday 15:18

Chapter 1 The nightmare

Keisha Reed woke up gasping, her hand flying to her chest.

Her heart pounded hard, thumping so loud she could hear it. Sweat stuck her tank top to her back, and her sheets were twisted around her legs like vines. It took her a full minute to realize she was in her bedroom. Safe.

But her body didn't feel safe.

It felt like she'd been touched. Hunted.

Claimed.

The dream had been too real.

There had been trees, tall, black trees under a blood-red moon. A man's voice in her ear. Deep, rough. A growl more than a whisper. She hadn't seen his face, but she'd felt him.

Hot breath on her neck. Hands gripping her waist.

And worse, she hadn't been scared.

She had wanted it.

Keisha sat on the edge of the bed and dragged a hand through her damp curls. "It's just a dream," she whispered. "Just another dream."

But she didn't believe herself. Not anymore. It wasn't the first time she'd had it. It wasn't even the tenth. The dreams had started a month ago, and they only got stronger, darker, more intense.

She walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. Her face looked pale in the mirror. Wide brown eyes, soft features, a faint scar above her lip that had never faded. She touched it lightly. That one was real. That was from the past she didn't talk about.

She turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face.

Behind her, the door creaked.

She froze.

When she looked up again, there was nothing in the mirror but her own reflection. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was watching her.

Downstairs, Kristy Baker danced around the tiny kitchen in a crop top and pajama shorts, blasting music from her phone. Her blonde curls bounced as she poured coffee into a pink mug.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," she called over her shoulder. "You screamed in your sleep again. What was it this time? Clowns? Ghosts? Ex-boyfriends?"

Keisha slumped onto the stool at the counter. "Wolves."

Kristy froze. She turned, eyes wide. "Wait, for real?"

Keisha nodded slowly, wrapping her hands around the warm mug Kristy pushed toward her.

Kristy dropped into the chair across from her. "Okay, hold up. You've had this dream, like, what... every night?"

Keisha didn't answer right away. "It started last month. Right after the full moon."

Kristy's smile faltered, just a little. She leaned in. "Is it scary? Or..." Her voice lowered, eyes teasing. "Is it hot?"

Keisha gave her a tired look. "Both."

"Girl, say no more." Kristy tossed her head dramatically. "That's called being spiritually horny. Totally normal."

Keisha managed a small laugh, but it faded fast. "No, Kristy. It's not normal. It feels real. Like someone's inside my head. Watching me."

Kristy went quiet.

Keisha stared into her coffee. "In the dream, I'm in the woods. I hear growling. Then he's there. I never see his face, but he touches me like he knows me. Like I belong to him."

Kristy blinked. "That's... intense."

Keisha nodded. "And here's the worst part. I don't fight him. I want him to touch me. I want him to take me. And I don't know why."

Kristy leaned back, frowning. "Okay, maybe it's your body processing old stuff. You've been through a lot. That kind of trauma can show up weird."

Keisha didn't answer. She didn't want to talk about the past.

Kristy stood. "Come on. Let's go get some air. You've been cooped up too long."

They walked the two blocks to the bookstore where Keisha worked. It was small, cozy, and always smelled like old paper and cinnamon tea. Her boss, Mrs. Jensen, barely noticed them as they stepped inside.

Kristy stayed by the front counter, flipping through a magazine while Keisha slipped into the back room to unpack boxes.

Half an hour passed. Then the bell above the door chimed.

Keisha heard Kristy's voice first. "Whoa. Are you looking for anything specific... or just planning to melt the windows?"

Keisha rolled her eyes and came out to help, then froze.

The man at the door was tall. Broad shoulders under a dark coat. Sharp jawline, short dark hair, and pale gray eyes that locked onto her like he'd been waiting.

And something inside her... stirred.

She knew him.

Not in real life. Not in a way she could explain.

But her body remembered.

Him.

From the dreams.

From the woods.

Her breath caught.

He walked toward her slowly. Kristy's voice faded into background noise.

"You," Keisha whispered.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "We finally meet."

"What?" She stepped back. "Who are you?"

He stopped just inches away. His voice was low and smooth, but it held something darker underneath. "Damian Grey."

Every part of her is locked up. She could feel it again, that strange heat in her chest. Her pulse raced. Her skin tingled. And worse, she didn't feel afraid.

She felt drawn to him. Like gravity.

Kristy appeared beside her, holding a book and pretending not to stare. "So... Damian Grey. Cool name. Are you a model or something?"

He didn't look at her. His eyes stayed on Keisha.

"I just moved into town," he said. "Not far from here."

Keisha swallowed. "Why are you here?"

Damian's gaze dropped to her lips, then slowly back to her eyes. "Because I had to see you in the flesh. Dreams only get you so far."

Kristy choked on her own spit. "What?"

Keisha's heart dropped. "You... you've had the dreams too?"

"I've had them for years," he said softly. "But they changed when you started having them. They became clearer. Closer. You've awakened something, Keisha. Something neither of us can run from."

Keisha stepped back again. "I think you should leave."

He didn't argue. Didn't get angry. Just nodded once.

But before he left, he leaned in close, voice barely above a whisper. "You're not crazy. And you're not alone. You feel it, don't you?"

She didn't answer.

Because she did feel it.

And it scared her more than anything ever had.

That night, Keisha lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Kristy had tried to cheer her up with wine and pizza, but nothing had worked. After Damian left, everything inside her had gone still. Quiet. Waiting.

She couldn't stop thinking about his eyes.

The way he'd looked at her.

The way he'd known.

How was that possible?

She wasn't special. She didn't even know her full family history. Her parents had died when she was twelve, and she'd bounced around foster homes for years. All she had left were old nightmares and a scar she couldn't explain.

Until now.

Her fingers drifted to her neck, to the spot where Damian's breath had hit her in the dream.

She shivered.

She had to be smart. Had to protect herself.

And yet...

She wanted to see him again.

Outside, a figure stood in the shadows, watching her window.

Lucien Devereaux lit a cigarette with a silver lighter and smiled to himself.

So. Damian had moved early.

That would make things... interesting.

He took one last drag before crushing the cigarette under his boot.

"Soon, mon ange," he whispered to the dark. "You'll see who you really belong to."