CRAVING THE PRIMORDIAL ELDER
Naelis Haldrith is many things, daughter to the South's most strategic Alpha, an Omega with Alpha genes, and an unapologetic misfit. During summer break, she decides to journey to Frostpine and spend her heat cycle with her boyfriend, the golden pea of the Thalric pod.
But during a collared moment, a secret of his is revealed, and Naelis realizes that their relationship was more complex than it seemed. Choosing to return to her pack, she steps outside under a storm, and it is at that moment she crosses paths with a man she had never seen before.
Zoran Vyer Thalric. Uncle to her ex. Member of the Elder's Council. The otherworldly primordial with red-ringed eyes and a wolf barely chained beneath his skin. Desire sparks instantly, and her sights are immediately set on him, but... he is a devotee of the Citadel, celibate, untouched, and unwilling to be the calm to her fury.
She is fire, wild and untamed. He is steel, honed and contained. And for the first time, Naelis is the hunter after her prey, and the line of resistance slowly blurs as he finds his years of enforced self-control and suppression unraveling at the tint of her touches.
And with a maniac on their radar, this summer break will demand blood, sacrifice, and passion that howls to the moon.
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Chapter 2
Summer Break. Why?
No matter how many times she tried to start her Maybach, it refused to cooperate with her. It was the third time this week and it was becoming immensely frustrating.
She had purchased the model at two hundred and fifty thousand warm dollar bills, to mark her twenty-first. And now, it was seeming like a bad investment.
Her battery percentage was barely surviving too, and the rain had flushed out any form of connectivity. Zero connectivity meant zero signal, and that meant...she couldn't order any Uber.
Fuck.
Before she could spin around, she collided chest-first into someone. The impact startled her, but then an umbrella snapped open above her head, shielding her from the worst of the rain.
Her amber eyes shot upward.
He stood like the storm had been made for him, rain dripping down his shoulders, his dark shirt clinging to a body that was all muscle and raw masculine appeal. His gaze found hers, black eyes with red rings burning faintly around the edges.
She had never seen red-ringed orbs before.
Was he a... it couldn't be.
A primordial?
"Hi," he said simply. His voice was deep, hoarse, yet subtly soft.
He kept a respectable distance between them.
"A storm is upon us," he murmured, like it was prophecy. "Everyone is advised to leave the grounds and come indoors."
Her heat hit her raw.
"Who... are you?"
He stepped out of the umbrella and handed it to her. The rain coating his body. Her eyes trailed to his abdominal muscles.
Damn.
"A member of the elders council."
"Oh," she stretched out one hand, using the other to tuck her phone into her pocket. "I'm Naelis, Naelis Hadrith. Blackwater pack."
He took her hand firmly, and just when she noticed how long and perfect his fingers were, he pulled back.
"Blackwater, you are a long way from home then."
She nodded,
"Yeah, I came to see-"
"My nephew?"
Her lips parted in surprise, and unexpectancy.
"Wait-what?"
The man's mouth curved, not a smile exactly, but something like he knew the punchline to a joke she hadn't caught yet.
"I might've caught word about you."
Heat burned her cheeks, not from her steam jacket, but from the fact that she was dripping wet, clinging to a stranger's umbrella like some fragile damsel.
She blinked hard.
She knew Silas had an uncle, but that was it, she didn't know anything else about him.
"How come I'm seeing you for the first time?."
"I only returned from the Citadel six months ago."
"The Citadel." Her eyes did a one-over on him, "You don't strike me as a devout man."
His lips pursed into a brief smile as he led her under the archway.
"Why?"
"Devote men don't....look like you do."
He closed the umbrella and likely shook it.
"No one needs to have a pot belly and large tunic before being devoted to the moon-goddess."
Naelis blinked, her wet hair plastered to her cheeks.
"I guess you are right. Maybe you could tell me more about your stay in the Citadel? Your name perhaps?"
He smiled again and she noticed his light dimples for the first time, his lips-
"Some other time, perhaps. For now, I have to get back to my pottery, Naelis Hadrith," he called out before turning around for a brief moment. "I will have someone skilled check on your car tomorrow."
That was it. And then he was gone in the blink of an eye.
Naelis let out a long exhale and leaned against the archway. The sound of hurried footsteps drew her attention.
Silas came barreling around the corner, his hair plastered to his forehead, he looked around, obviously searching for her.
"Over here," she called, waving at him.
He skidded to a stop in front of her
"There you are! I've been-" His words faltered as he saw her drenched state, the puddle of rainwater collecting at her boots.
"Are you still, do you still plan on going back home?" His voice was low, hopeful in the very least.
"No."
"Phew." Silas inhaled, "I'll make it up to you I swear, I'll do anything."
Her lips curved into a smirk as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, swimming in her thoughts.
"I met your uncle."
"Oh, outside?."
"Yeah."
"Okay, cool."
"I want him."
Silas blinked like she had just declared war.
"You.....what?"
"I said," Naelis's smirk deepened, "I want your uncle."
His jaw slackened. "You just met him, Nae."
"Yeah," she shrugged, her amber eyes flickering mischievously. "And that was enough."
Silas dragged a hand down his face. "Gods above, do you even hear yourself? He is...he's not into women."
Her brows shot up. "Wait. You mean he is batting for the other team?"
"No!" Silas threw his hands up, almost shouting. "No. He's just, he doesn't....do that. With anyone."
Naelis tilted her head, her curiosity was sparking hotter at this point. "Doesn't do what?"
"He is a celibacy practitioner," Silas muttered. "Dad says he took a vow. A lifelong one. He has dedicated himself to the Citadel teachings. Zero intimacy, zero indulgence, zero..." he waved vaguely, "everything."
Naelis's mouth parted in a small "oh." But her lips quickly pulled into a smirk.
"So basically... he is a tough nut."
Silas groaned loudly, tilting his head back like the ceiling could give him patience. "More like a locked vault. You'd need the moon goddess herself to sign off before you even-"
"Challenge accepted," She cut in.
Silas whipped his head toward her, scandalized.
"Do you even know his name?"
Naelis's smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat. Then it curved back again. "He didn't tell me, yet. But Names are just doors. I am more interested in the man behind them."
Silas's eyes narrowed, studying her like she had grown horns. "It's Zoran," he said. "Zoran Veyr."
The name rolled off her tongue smoothly.
Zoran. It felt ancient, and intoxicating.
She whispered it under her breath, tasting the syllables like forbidden wine. "Zoran..."
"Nae. No. Don't even think about it."
She shrugged, uncrossing her arms. "What? I like complicated things. And I like impossible. Besides," she added slyly, "He is a fine specimen of a man, haven't you seen his eyes? His build? Why is he not your father's Beta or something? Why a pack elder?."
Silas crossed his arms.
"Of course he is otherworldly, primordials are built like that. Secondly, I don't know if you've noticed, he is a bit traditional... old fashioned. He believes that he would impact the pack best as a member of the elder's council."
"I want to know everything about him."
He sighed, heavily.
"I fucked up Nae, with you. But... indirectly asking me to aid you get my uncle as punishment, it's a bit....over the top."
She rolled her eyes.
"Oh darling, your atrocities are still fresh in my mind." But.... "Who better than the nephew of the prize to help me win the hunt?"
Silas groaned, leaning against the damp wall.
"You're officially insane."
"Insanity gets results."
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8.9
Aliana braved a heavy storm, carrying a warm stew for her fiancé, Ivan, just as she always put his needs before her own. This ingrained habit, a survival mechanism from a cold childhood, was about to shatter into a million pieces. Tonight, everything she believed was a lie.
The iron gates of Ivan's private villa flashed red, denying her entry, and a guard mumbled lies. Ignoring him, she pushed past, a strange orchid perfume leading her to Ivan's car, where a tube of crimson lipstick lay on the passenger seat. Through a window, she saw him with another woman and a small child, an image that felt like jagged glass twisting in her heart.
Then his words cut through the storm, cold and cruel:
"Aliana is just a placeholder."
He was marrying her for her multi-billion-dollar patent, a secret deal made with her own parents, who had sold her for a kickback to buy this very house. Her family, her love, her future-all were a calculated lie.
Her inner wolf, usually fierce, fell terrifyingly silent, replaced by a chilling resolve. The burning acid in her throat wasn't just bile; it was the taste of her shattered devotion.
She didn't want his apologies or his guilt. She wanted his ruin, and as Ivan walked in with a fake smile the next morning, Aliana was ready to deliver it.
9.3
Halie woke up to a sharp pain and a terrifying reality. She was in a new body, her face covered in a hideous web of scars, and her spiritual power reduced to a pathetic D-Class.
Before she could even process the memories of being framed, her bedroom doors were violently kicked open.
Her sister Seraphina sauntered in with a venomous sneer, followed closely by Halie's S-Class fiancé, Jett.
"Look at the disgrace of the Avila family. What a waste," Seraphina mocked, throwing a mirror at her bed.
"I can't be tied to a cripple. As an S-Class, I have to break our engagement," Jett added, his gaze full of disgust.
The nightmare didn't stop there. Her father called, screaming about how she had shamed the family name. He officially stripped her of her inheritance, froze all her accounts, and exiled her to the decaying Southern District to rot.
To make matters worse, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in her skull, warning her of an impending genetic collapse. Without an immediate energy infusion, she would face total organ failure in thirty days.
A ruined face, a treacherous family, a world that wanted her dead, and a literal death clock ticking in her brain. The original owner had died in absolute despair, a tragic victim of sheer cruelty.
But if they thought she would just sit there and die, they were severely mistaken.
Armed with a mysterious system and her brilliant scientist mind from her past life, Halie packed her bags. She chose the craziest survival quest: head to the slums, find the exiled, sterile S-Class "madman" Coleman, and cure him to harvest his life energy. It was time to start her counterattack.
9.3
The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.
7.1
The captain is dead to the world. And I'm the only one holding the kill switch.
Ethan Carter, the "Glacier of Silvercrest," was the most feared Alpha to ever step onto the ice. Now, he's nothing but a shell-a broken, comatose legend trapped in his own body.
My life? It was supposed to be simple. Graduate, survive the pack's bottom-tier status, and pay off my father's ruinous blood-debts. Instead, the pack elders handed me a contract soaked in cold, hard malice: I am the designated "Stabilizer." My only job is to touch him, scent him, and keep his wolf from flatlining.
I thought I was just a glorified nurse. I didn't realize the Alpha was listening.
When Ethan finally wakes, he isn't the hero the Kingdom of Valeria remembers. He's a starving predator with amber eyes that burn holes through my defenses and a temperament that makes the frost in the mansion seem warm. He hates the bargain, he hates the pack, and-most dangerously-he hates the way his scent turns wild whenever I'm near.
He wants me out of his sight. I want to be out of his reach.
But in a pack built on secrets, someone is still trying to finish the job they started on his life. Now, the man who wants me gone is the only one who can protect me. And as the rink turns into a battlefield, I'm realizing the most dangerous thing about the Alpha isn't his temper... it's the fact that once he claims a mate, he doesn't know how to let go.
Frozen hearts are meant to shatter. But in the fire of this pack, we're both going to burn.
8.3
For three years, I was the lowest Omega in the Blackwood Pack, hopelessly devoted to my Fated Mate, Alpha Kaelen.
But when I was mauled by rogues and bleeding out in the freezing forest, I desperately begged him for help through our mate link. He crushed his wolf’s instincts to save me and sent back a chilling thought before severing our connection completely.
"She is a mistake. Silence."
He didn't just leave me to die. The next morning, he dragged me before the entire pack, publicly rejected me, and let his people strip me of my clothes and dignity. They threw me out of the territory with nothing but a scratchy burlap sack, expecting the deadly wilderness to claim my life by nightfall.
I thought my life was over, until I stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary in the woods and uncovered a horrific truth. I wasn't just a worthless Omega. I was the last surviving Matron Luna of the legendary Mooncrest Pack—a powerful pack that Kaelen's own father had brutally massacred decades ago out of pure jealousy.
He thought he had discarded a piece of trash, entirely unaware of the blood feud between our families. He didn't know he had just set me free.
Now, with my ancient powers awakening and my lost people gathering by my side, I am going to make the Alpha who threw me away pay for every drop of blood his family spilled.
9.7
Alya Harrell was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy Long Island family, treated worse than a stray dog in her own home. Tonight, her family finally found a use for her.
Her stepmother and half-sister, Chloe, forced her into a scandalous, plunging red dress. They were offering her as a bargaining chip to Warren Thorne, a ruthless, sleazy hedge fund manager known for collecting and discarding young girls.
Just to ensure her absolute humiliation, Chloe intentionally "tripped" and spilled a glass of red wine all over the silk dress.
"Now you'll have to wear that hideous little black thing you own," Chloe sneered, leaving Alya to face the high-society dinner looking like a beggar.
When Alya tried to escape Thorne's groping hands, her own father hunted her down. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back, and raised his hand to strike her for embarrassing the family.
She was nothing but a pawn to them, a cheap product to be sold and abused for their financial gain. Alya's heart turned cold as she realized her blood relatives would gladly destroy her just to secure a lucrative business deal.
But when she was sent to the cellar to fetch a $50,000 vintage wine for their billionaire VIP guest, Alya caught her perfect sister hooking up with a personal trainer next to the priceless bottle.
Quietly stealing the vintage wine and burying it in the garden dirt, Alya returned to the ballroom with a dangerous smile.
"I think I saw Chloe carrying a bottle down to the cellar," she told her furious father and the VIP, leading them straight toward the trap that would completely ruin her sister's perfect life.