Traitor. Whore. Unworthy. Coward. Murderer. Worthless. Nothing. Heartless. Is this what makes a rogue? Is this what condemns all rogues to death or life imprisonment? What if one was different? Different from the rapists and murderers? What if she was the light of your life. The fire of your loins. Your sin. Your soul. Your rogue. Can you forgive what your past has taught you about their kind? Can you reject her at first sight and lead her to death? Or watch as another tries to steal her from you. In this case Crystal Devereaux is cursed to be caught in between this turmoil. Will she live long enough to be happy with her mate? Or are happy endings overrated? (First book of my series. Contains Mature Content in most chapters just to warn you. Please enjoy)

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, his voice a husky of depth. "This is reserved land, tourists aren't allowed here." "W-who are you?" He wasn't the uniform that the Rangers wore, so I knew he wasn't a part of them. He was a random man. If I wasn't supposed to be out here, then he wasn't either. He had to be at least a half a foot taller than me. His hair was tousled over his head, in an unmistakable windblown quiff. In the dense lighting of the woods, his eyes were piercing as he looked me over. The confident stance and his muscular body left me feeling overwhelmed. He could be a mass murdered and easily able to overpower me. I didn't know. Just being around left me feeling slightly terrified. He radiated authority and power. "There are wolves running in these woods, períergi. It's not fairytale. It's real." "Of course wolves aren't fairytale," I retorted. "They're a protected species by the feds. If you'll point me in the right direction, I'll be going back to the park grounds." I looked around trying to find the best route of escape. Every angle I turned revealed gleaming gold eyes in the shadows of the woods. It appeared as if a whole pack of wolves had surrounded us. A small whimper escaped my throat as I looked back to him. His eyes darkened slightly as he stared into the distance at the wolves. He stepped forward immediately once again invading my personal space. His nostrils flared briefly before his arms wrapped around me tightly, pulling me into his chest. His head lowered slightly and I felt his chin rest on my head. "Den tha mas vlápsei. Wolves are social creatures by nature," he said. "You'll get used to being around them. Eláte se mas." Shock nor horror could describe how I felt. Wolves moved from the shadows into the light. Their muscular lean bodies moved with a lethal grace. They continued coming forward until we were both surrounded. Close enough to us that I felt the breath of two wolves brushing against me.