Book 1
Ranked #1 in badboys: May 2018
(Unedited)
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The Wulf family is infamous in the werewolf community. Their family was the first. The origins of their kind. They are more aggressive and beastly. Their wolves more ruthless and blood thirsty. Th...
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Willow woke up warm, surrounded by the scent of Rage.
Her sleepy mind drawing a frown from her as she tried to remember what was going on.
"You move around too much," a husky voice grumbled before a strong arm snaked around her, pulling her back against a muscular chest.
Slowly she turned her head, her cheek brushing his bare chest to look up at Rage.
His eyes were closed, long eyelashes laying against his cheeks. She watches his relaxed face, wondering how many people actually got to see him like this. He looked almost boyish like this, dispite the growth of beard that was almost long enough to run her fingers through.
She took her time looking over him, his face, his chest that was covered in scars and a single tattoo that sat over his heart.
His face scrunched as she ran her fingers along the black inked wolf inside a circle.
"Can't we just sleep a little longer?" He whined, rolling over so her face was nestled in his chest. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him. She giggled at his actions, he was being adorable.
She layed there, letting him sleep until her body protested. She sighed when she realized she would have to wake him up to get out of bed.
"Rage?" She asked with a whisper, hoping that it wouldn't startle him.
"No," he grumbled, pulling her tighter, which was a bad idea as the added pressure only made the situation worse.
"Rage, I need to get up,"
"No," he growled deeply in protest, she fought back a smile but the vibration made her need worse.
"Rage, I need to pee," he huffed, loosening his grip around her so she could slip from the bed, grabbed her satin robe and head to the bathroom.
When she stepped back into the living room after finishing her business in the bathroom, she was surprised to find that it was actually very early. No one would even be downstairs for breakfast for another hour.
The sight of Rage froze her in her tracks, her heart dropping into her stomach. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands that were tangled in his short curls.
Blood pulsed in her hears as she waited, dread consuming her as she waited for him to change his mind, go back on his word and tell her that he didn't want her as his mate.
She gasped as his troubled eyes turned to her, speaking so much that she truly believed that they could show her his soul if she looked long enough. The emotions swirled, his brow creasing as he turned fully to look at her.
"Please don't," the words ghosted past her lips, her throat tightening, her doubts consuming her thoughts as she looked at the male before her. Her heart was breaking and he hadn't even said a word yet.
