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 7
Zoran froze the moment her fingertip touched his lips. For a heartbeat, he looked like he forgot how to breathe.
Naelis could clearly see his struggle as he tries to find a suitable response to her question or an excuse not to answer.
He gently pulled her hand away and tightened his jaw. "Miss Haldrith... this is not the moment for such discussions."
Of course he changed the topic.. Classic Zoran.
Before she could argue, he adjusted her in his arms, tightening his hold as he descended the last steps. The main hallway came into view, Silas rushing toward them with his shirt half-buttoned and panic in his eyes.
"What happened? I smelled blood, Naelis, are you hurt?" Silas reached to take her, and Zoran instantly handed her over like she was a burning coal.
Zoran didn't even spare her a full glance. "Her injury is minor, tend to it. I must return to the front and join your father in controlling the situation"
He looked like one more whiff of her would make him combust.
Without another word, Zoran spun on his heel and stormed down the hallway. Naelis watched him go, her lips curling into a slow, wicked smile.
Silas followed her gaze and groaned. "Naelis... stop smiling like that, It scares me."
"Oh please," she muttered, flipping her hair back. "If he wants to keep running, let him. It only makes the chase sweeter."
"Chase?" Silas sputtered. "Naelis, he's a primordial wolf. He took a vow. A vow-vow, not the casual 'I'm taking a break from dating' vow. This is a centuries-old, ancient text carved-in-stone type of vow."
"I know," she said, swinging her legs down from his arms despite the lingering pain in her stomach. "And I want to see how far that vow bends before it snaps."
Silas stared at her like she was about to summon a demon in the middle of the hallway. "Please Naelis, I'm begging you. Do not go anywhere near the citadel."
She raised a brow. "Who said anything about the citadel?"
"You just did."
She scoffed, "Nope, you are just assuming things."
"You were smiling."
"And?"
"That smile," he said with despair, "means you're about to ruin someone's life."
"His life?" Naelis laughed softly. "Silas, honey, I'm just trying to unwrap a very old present."
Silas buried his face in his palms. "If my father finds out about this, I am dead"
She patted his shoulder. "Relax, I just need a few books."
"A few books?"
"Yes, traditional texts. So I can walk into the citadel with a totally innocent reason."
Silas's head snapped up. "Naelis! You... "
But she was already turning away, waving him off like he was a mosquito buzzing too close to her ear. The ache in her abdomen hadn't subsided but it wasn't as unbearable as earlier.
She was determined to make Zoran willingly submit to her.
---
An hour later, the rogue attack has been taken care of and everything has returned to calm.
Naelis walked across the courtyard wearing full traditional Frostpine attire.. A deep forest-green gown with embroidered gold runes, her red hair braided into two, and a thin veil draped over her head like the model devotees that frequent the citadel.
She carried three thick books in her arms, all borrowed from the library.
Well, borrowed without permission but still the same thing.
Every elder and guard she passed stared at her like she had grown a second head.
Seeing their reactions, she smirked and headed in the direction of the citadel.
The citadel loomed ahead, towering and solemn. Ancient stone pillars spiraled upward, their surfaces etched with prayers and warnings.
Naelis stepped in anyway.
Because why the hell not?
Her boots tapped softly against the polished stone. She peeked around corners, skirt brushing against her legs as she navigated the dim corridors. Incense drifted from the meditation quarters, warm and irritatingly calming.
She wrinkled her nose.
"Ughh. . It smells like enlightenment." she murmured with an irritated expression.
Finally, she reached the large wooden doors that separated the main hall from the meditation wing.
Silas told her that Zoran usually meditates at this specific time. She pushed the door open, at first it seemed empty but when she looked at the center of the room, she smiled triumphantly.
Zoran sat in the center of the room, cross-legged, eyes shut, back straight as a spear, shirt discarded on the floor beside him. Only loose ceremonial pants hung on his hips, exposing the carved map of muscles across his chest. His skin had faint silver markings that were glowing softly.
He looked... otherworldly and perfect.
Naelis grinned.
"Challenge accepted" she murmured before silently slipping inside and closed the door behind her.
Her foot caught deliberately on the edge of her gown. She gasped and let herself fall directly onto him.
Her body landed on his lap, knocking him slightly off balance. His eyes flew open, the red ring in them looked like it was burning.
Both of them froze.
Zoran's hands hovered around her waist, not touching but dangerously close. His breath hitched quietly.
"Miss Haldrith," he murmured, voice hoarse, like he was holding something back, "why... are you in the meditation chamber?"
She winced dramatically. "My leg twisted and I slipped."
He gave her a hard deadpan expression and she almost broke into laughter.
He gently lifted her off his lap, but the contact alone sent a jolt through him, she saw it in the way his jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared.
"You should not be here," he said, his voice low. "This is a consecrated place."
"I came for guidance," she lied sweetly, waving the book in her hand. "Religious guidance."
He blinked at the titles.
Ancient Binding Rituals.
The Wolf and His Chosen.
Celibacy: A Guide.
Zoran inhaled sharply, looking like he wanted to throw her out the door.
"That last title," he said stiffly, "is not for public reading."
"And yet," she countered, "here I am, public and reading."
He exhaled slowly, as if controlling a beast.
She leaned closer, her shoulder brushing his bare arm. "You didn't answer my question earlier," she whispered. "What exactly did you run from?"
"Naelis," he warned.
"Come on," she teased. "Are you scared of me?"
His gaze snapped to hers, blazing like molten gold. "I fear what my wolf wishes to do around you."
That caught her off guard and heat rippled down her spine.
"Oh?" she whispered.
Zoran rose to his full height, towering over her. The soft glow of the chamber lights caught the silver strands in his hair and the ancient markings on his chest.
"I must maintain the vow," he said, voice thick but strained. "I must keep my distance."
"And how's that working out?" she asked, stepping closer to him.
His fingers twitched.
"Poorly," he admitted.
Naelis's smile grew slow and knowing. "Good."
She moved to walk around him, pretending to browse the scroll shelves. "Honestly, Zoran... if you're going to keep avoiding me, you should at least be better at it."
"I am not avoiding," he said stiffly.
She snorted. "You literally handed me to Silas and sprinted."
Zoran's face flushed.. barely, but enough to see. "Proximity to you is... difficult."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
She turned, leaning back against a pillar, letting the fabric of her gown cling to her curves as she raised a brow. "Zoran. Why?"
He swallowed and it felt like his years of built up restraint was a joke.
"My wolf reacts to you," he murmured. "Too strongly. It is... unsafe."
"For me or for you?" she pressed.
"Yes," he said.
She laughed softly. "You really are an ancient relic."
Zoran bristled. "I am disciplined."
"You're repressed."
Their eyes locked.
A spark lit between them, sharp and undeniable.
Naelis stepped closer. "Tell me, Zoran... does your vow forbid you from looking?"
Silence at first then he gave her a hard look.
Her throat, her lips, the exposed slip of thigh where her gown had parted.
He snapped his gaze away like it burned him. "Miss Haldrith, I will escort you out... "
"No."
She placed her hand on his chest. It felt warm and she could feel his rapid heartbeats.
His breath stopped altogether.
"Miss Haldrith," he whispered, voice dangerously low like he was about to snap, "remove your hand."
"Why?" she asked softly.
"Because my... ."
She leaned up on her toes and nudged his neck with her nose.
His eyes flashed, wolf surging for a split-second.
Zoran stumbled back like he needed distance to breathe. "Leave the citadel."
"No."
"Miss Haldrith... "
"No," she repeated, smiling and giving him a seductive wink. "You keep running away and I keep chasing... I'm enjoying myself."
He stared at her, chest rising and falling too fast for someone supposedly calm.
"And you know what, Zoran?" she added, tilting her head, voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "I'm not stopping until you break that vow."
Zoran shut his eyes like her words physically hit him. He turned away, one hand gripping the edge of the altar as if anchoring himself to something real.
"You should not tempt me," he said, his voice shaking slightly.
She walked past him, trailing her fingers across his shoulder. "I plan to do much worse."
He shuddered but it was barely noticeable.
Naelis strode to the door, pausing only once to glance back. Zoran stood frozen in the center of the chamber, fists clenched, and chest heaving while murmuring some kind of cleansing chant.
She smiled wickedly and triumphantly.
"See you tomorrow, Monk "
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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.
8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
9.2
When Alma's father stood in front of the bulldozers to protest, the energy company's thugs beat him half to death in the mud.
Instead of arresting the attackers, the police handcuffed her bleeding father and threw him into a cruiser.
"Stay back, kid," the officer barked, shoving Alma away.
Her father was denied bail and framed for assaulting an officer. The corrupt mayor just smiled and told her not to cause a scene. Meanwhile, the company mailed her weeping mother a severance check that barely covered a month of groceries.
Alma was forced to watch her family be completely destroyed by men with money and power.
Kneeling in the cold dirt where her father's blood had spilled, she didn't shed a single tear. The panic in her chest died, replaced by a cold, absolute hatred.
She realized that crying wouldn't do anything. In this world, justice didn't exist for the weak.
Years later, Alma stepped onto a prestigious Ivy League campus, her cheap backpack slung over her shoulder.
She was surrounded by the arrogant children of the very executives who ruined her life.
She lowered her head, hiding her dead eyes, and put on the perfect mask of a timid, helpless charity case.
Undergrad was just a training ground, and these elite kids were just her practice dummies. The hunt was officially on.
9.4
I was a New York photographer, but I woke up under the brutal sun of the African savanna.
Worse, I wasn't human. I was trapped in the body of a male cheetah, with two starving cubs clinging to my fur, telepathically calling me "Mom."
But I am a real man!
To keep my adopted sons alive, I had to fight hyenas and dodge rogue lions. But the real nightmare was my bizarre survival mechanism. Under extreme threat, I would uncontrollably shift back into my human form—stark, undeniably naked. I was forced to sprint across the plains with my bare skin exposed, carrying two cubs while escaping furious lionesses. I became a freak, the most confusing and humiliating legend of the animal kingdom.
Covered in bloody scratches and mud, I was pushed to the brink of despair. Why was I thrown into this beast's body? Why did my only defense mechanism involve profound social death?
Just when I barely survived a cliff dive to escape the lions, my path was blocked by two massive, highly intelligent prime male cheetahs.
But the alpha, Bradley, didn't want to kill me for my territory.
His intense gaze raked over my naked, bleeding human body with a dark, possessive hunger.
"You are full of surprises."
He purred smoothly, teaching me to magically summon a fur skirt before demanding I join his coalition.
"Oh, you'll come to me. I guarantee it."
Looking into his predatory eyes, I realized I was no longer just surviving the wild; I was the prey of a completely different kind of beast.
9.2
I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body.
A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain.
The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust.
Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits?
"Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis."
Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.