My Step-Brothers' Forbidden Addiction
My fated mate rejected me in front of the entire pack and they cheered while he did it.
Moving to Nightshade Pack was supposed to be my escape. Instead, I got two step-brothers who looked at me like I was something they wanted to destroy.
Dante Blackwell: brutal, possessive, with eyes that burned through me every time we were in the same room.
Mateo Blackwell: all charm and cruelty, with a smile that shouldn't make my heart race but does.
They made my life hell. Every day was a new way to remind me I didn't belong.
But one incident changed it all.
What happens when the step-brothers you're supposed to hate become the ones you can't stop craving? When the mate who destroyed you comes crawling back? When the broken girl they underestimated discovers she's something they should fear?
Sometimes the prey becomes the predator.
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Chapter 5
Delilah's POV
"Let me show you inside." Ryker's voice was warm as he guided Mom toward the packhouse entrance. "You both must be exhausted from the drive."
I followed behind them, acutely aware of Dante and Mateo's eyes tracking my every movement. They stepped aside to let us pass but didn't say a word. The air between us crackled with tension.
The packhouse interior was massive and imposing. Dark wood floors stretched down long hallways and portraits of past Alphas and Betas lined the walls. Everything looked expensive and old and nothing like our small cottage in Riverbend. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings and cast warm light across the space. Thick rugs muffled our footsteps as we walked deeper into what would now be our home.
"Your room is upstairs, Vivienne." Ryker led Mom up the grand staircase with his hand on the small of her back. "And Delilah, I've prepared a room right next to your mother's. I want you to feel at home here. This is your home now too."
His words were kind and genuine. I could tell he really meant them. The problem was his sons standing behind us radiating hostility with every breath they took.
My new room was beautiful. Warm cream walls, a large bed with soft lavender sheets, a wooden dresser with fresh flowers on top, and a window seat overlooking the gardens. There was even a small bookshelf in the corner waiting to be filled.
"I hope you like it," Ryker said gently. "If you need anything changed, just let me know. I want you to be comfortable here, Delilah. You're part of this family now."
"Thank you," I managed to say. "It's perfect."
Ryker smiled warmly and squeezed my shoulder before leaving me alone. I stood in the middle of the room and felt the weight of everything that happened crash down on me. Storm was still silent in my head and I reached for her but got nothing back.
I unpacked slowly, hanging clothes in the closet and placing books on the shelf. I laid out my grandmother's quilt on the bed and the familiar pattern made my chest ache.
By the time I finished, the sun was starting to set and golden light streamed through the window to paint the walls warm orange.
A soft knock on my door made me turn from where I was arranging things on the dresser.
"Delilah?" Mom's voice came through. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah."
Mom entered looking better than she had this morning. She'd showered and changed into a pretty blue dress. "Ryker's pack is wonderful," she said softly. "Everyone's been so welcoming. I think we're going to be happy here, sweetheart."
I didn't have the heart to tell her I'd seen nothing but hostility from Ryker's sons, so I just nodded. She deserved to be happy after everything she'd been through.
"Dinner's in thirty minutes. Ryker wants us all to eat together so we can get to know each other as a family."
"Okay."
Mom kissed my forehead and left. I changed into clean jeans and a dark green sweater, braided my copper hair over one shoulder, and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked tired but presentable enough for dinner.
At exactly seven, I made my way downstairs following the sound of voices and cooking smells. I paused outside the dining room and took a deep breath.
I walked in and my stomach dropped.
The table was set for five with fine china and crystal glasses that probably cost more than everything we owned. Ryker sat at the head with Mom beside him looking happy and relaxed for the first time in days. Dante sat across from them with his arms crossed and his storm gray eyes cold and assessing as they swept over me. Mateo lounged in his chair like he didn't have a care in the world, but his amber eyes tracked me with predatory focus the moment I entered the room.
"Delilah!" Ryker gestured to the empty chair between the two brothers with a welcoming smile. "Come sit. Dinner's ready and it smells wonderful."
The only open seat was between them. Of course it was.
I sat down stiffly and kept my eyes on my empty plate. The brothers didn't acknowledge me or move to make space. The air around us felt thick and suffocating.
Staff brought out food and filled our plates with roasted chicken that was perfectly golden, roasted vegetables that smelled like herbs, and fresh bread that was still warm from the oven. It smelled amazing but my appetite vanished completely.
"So, Delilah." Ryker's voice was kind as he cut into his chicken. "Your mother tells me you were studying healing arts at Riverbend University. Were you close to graduating?"
"Three days away," I said quietly.
"That's wonderful news. We have an excellent healing center here run by some of the best healers in the territory. I'm sure they'd be happy to have you continue your studies and maybe even apprentice with them once you're settled in."
I nodded because I didn't trust my voice. The idea of going back to classes and facing new people who would inevitably judge me made me want to disappear.
"She's probably exhausted from all that running she did last night," Dante said suddenly. His voice was cold and sharp like a blade. "Must be hard work fleeing your own pack in the middle of the night with everything you own."
"Dante." Ryker's voice held a clear warning.
"What? I'm just making conversation with our new step-sister." Dante's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm curious what could make someone run from their own pack so desperately. Must have been something pretty serious to leave in such a hurry."
My hands clenched in my lap under the table. Mom's face had gone pale and tight with worry.
"Delilah had personal reasons for leaving Riverbend," Mom said carefully. "It was time for a fresh start for both of us."
"Personal reasons." Mateo's voice was smooth as honey but just as cold as his brother's. "Is that what we're calling it now? Because I heard through pack gossip that her fated mate rejected her publicly at her own mating ceremony. That's got to sting worse than anything I can imagine."
My blood ran cold. How did they already know? We only arrived this morning. The rejection happened last night and we drove straight here. How could pack gossip have spread that fast across territories?
"H-how do you know about that?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.
Mateo's smile turned cruel. "News travels fast between packs, especially when it's something as interesting as a public rejection. A Sterling rejecting his fated mate? That's the kind of scandal everyone wants to talk about."
The words hit like a physical slap and my chest tightened painfully. Storm whimpered faintly in the back of my mind for the first time since the rejection.
"That's enough from both of you," Ryker said firmly. His gray eyes flashed with anger as he looked between his sons. "Delilah is family now and you will treat her with respect. I won't tolerate this behavior at my table."
"Family." Dante's laugh was bitter and harsh. "Right. Because that's what she is. Not some random girl dragged here by a woman trying to replace our mother."
"Our mother has been dead for two years and already there's someone new sitting in her chair," Mateo added. His charming mask slipped completely as he looked at Mom with cold eyes. "Sleeping in her bed and acting like she belongs here."
Mom flinched like she'd been struck. Ryker's face darkened with real anger now.
"Your mother would want me to be happy," Ryker said quietly but his voice was pure steel. "She wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life alone and miserable. And she certainly wouldn't want her sons acting like disrespectful children who can't see past their own pain."
Dante's jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. Mateo's smile turned sharp and cruel and dangerous.
The rest of dinner passed with polite conversation between Ryker and Mom while I pushed food around my plate. Every time I looked up, one of the brothers was staring at me with cold eyes that promised this was only the beginning.
Finally, Ryker stood and offered his hand to Mom. "Vivienne, let me show you the gardens. The moon flowers are blooming tonight."
Mom glanced at me with worry clear in her eyes. "Maybe I should stay and help clean up."
"The staff will handle it," Ryker said gently. "Besides, the kids need time to bond. They'll be siblings soon."
"Ryker, I'm not sure that's a good idea right now."
"They're good boys who just need time to adjust. Trust me."
Mom looked at me one more time, torn between leaving and staying. I forced a small smile. She let Ryker lead her out toward the gardens.
I started to stand, desperate to escape to my room, but Dante's voice stopped me cold.
"Sit down. We're not done talking yet."
I froze. Both brothers turned to face me fully with expressions that made my blood run cold.
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8.1
"I don't share my women, Adele. Breeder or not. Go on your knees." He instructed, his hands going to unbuckle his trousers.
My heart burned with hatred as I clutched the knife behind me. "Of course, Alpha Loic. I was wondering... If you were to choose between a quick death and a slow one, which would you choose?"
I smiled brightly. He was taken aback for a moment. Then his face twisted in anger. "Have you forgotten your place so soon, Omega? Go down on your fucking knees."
"Omega? Aww. Adele would be so hurt. Tonight, I'll pronounce your death. The Alpha of the Vanguard pack, killed by fire. Touchè." I snapped my hands, and fire sprang up from all corners, encircling the room, with us in it.
"Y-you are not Adele. Who are you?" His eyes widened.
...
The Demon Queen, a name that struck terror in the minds of mortals and werewolves alike. Who'd have thought she'd meet her end during one of her adventures at a nightclub?
After being struck dead by the Alpha of her most hated race, Ophelie returns in the body of a wolf-less girl with only one mission in mind. To kill her murderer.
But sometimes, things never go as planned. When love is thrown in the mix, Ophelie finds herself and her previous plans swaying.
Refusing to kill Loic is to lose herself and her powers. What would she choose?
8.6
It was my birthday, but instead of celebrating, I was bleeding on the floor of my own bedroom. My sister Serena had just smashed a champagne bottle over my legs, her eyes filled with a dark madness because our father allowed me to wear the family diamonds.
To escape her, I bolted into a pitch-black guest suite, only to be grabbed by a man who felt like a wall of solid muscle. He was drugged, unstable, and pinned me against the wall, his teeth sinking into my neck in a primal claim that left a permanent mark.
I managed to flee, but the nightmare was just beginning. My father didn't care about my injuries; he only cared that I had "insulted" the man in that room—Delos French, the most powerful CEO in New York. He threatened to stop paying for my mother’s critical care facility unless I went to Delos and begged for his forgiveness.
My brother Julian was even worse, intentionally pouring scalding coffee over my bandaged wounds just to see me flinch. They forced me into a revealing gold dress, treating me like a high-priced commodity to be sold to the highest bidder to save their failing company.
I didn't understand how the people who were supposed to love me could be more predatory than the monster in the dark. I had spent my life fixing their scandals, yet they were ready to throw me to the wolves the moment I became useful as a pawn.
But when I stood before Delos French at his gala, he didn't see a trophy. He recognized my scent, my touch, and the fire in my eyes. He trapped me in his private lounge, kneeling to clean the blood from my injured feet.
"Marry me," he whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "And I will give you the power to burn your family to the ground."
I looked into the eyes of the man who had hunted me and realized he was the only one offering me a weapon to destroy the people who had broken me.
"Okay," I whispered.
8.3
Imogen Montgomery was the perfect billionaire heiress, deeply in love and ready to marry her fiancé, Clark Ellis.
That all ended the night her cousin Kathleen ripped the sapphire pendant from her neck and pushed her into a pool of toxic chemicals to die.
Two years later, Imogen's eyes snapped open. But she didn't wake up in a hospital. She woke up tied to a stained mattress, trapped in the battered body of Briana, a teenage girl from the slums who had just been sold to a local trafficker.
After violently fighting her way out of a cheap motel, she discovered the horrifying truth. Kathleen had taken over the Montgomery Group. She had locked Imogen's grieving parents away in a psychiatric facility as prisoners.
And worst of all, Kathleen was now flaunting her stolen wealth online, preparing to marry Clark.
A wave of pure, white-hot rage boiled in her blood. Kathleen had murdered her, stolen her family, and was playing the perfect grieving cousin. How was she supposed to fight back? She was just a runaway nobody now. If she tried to expose the truth, Kathleen's security would shoot her dead in the street.
She needed a weapon. She needed a shield. She needed the one man Kathleen feared.
Covered in mud and blood, Briana intercepted Clark's car in the freezing rain. She was going to infiltrate his home as his vulgar, unhinged fake mistress, and she would drag Kathleen straight down to hell.
7.6
I was kidnapped alongside Cecilia Montoya, the new fiancée of the man who destroyed my life. Her fiancé, Damond Crane, was my ex-mate-the one who framed my father for treason just so he could marry her.
He arrived with a duffel bag full of cash, his face a mask of heroic worry for Cecilia. The Rogues took the money and shoved her into his arms.
But then their leader pointed at me, tied to a pipe in the corner. "What about the spare?" he sneered. "A little extra for the pretty Omega you left behind?"
Damond didn't even hesitate. He looked right at me, his eyes as cold and empty as a winter sky.
"She's nothing," he announced, his voice echoing in the silent warehouse. "A worthless Omega not worth a single coin. Do what you want with her."
He turned his back on me. He walked out the door with his new love, leaving me to be torn apart by monsters. In that moment, my soul didn't just break; it shattered into dust.
Just as the Rogues unbuckled their belts, a shadow dropped from the rafters. It was Waylen Montoya, Cecilia's brother, the most feared Alpha in the region. He landed between me and them, his power a crushing weight. He knelt before me, his voice a low, dangerous promise.
"Did you really think I'd let them have what's mine?"
9.2
Swapped at birth, Eileen was returned to her real family on her eighteenth birthday-only to be betrayed by them that very night.
To protect their precious fake sister, her three brothers forced Eileen and sent her to prison.
For four brutal years, she was beaten, humiliated, and abandoned, while not one relative came to see her.
When she finally walked free, her family and fiancé still treated her like a stain. So Eileen cut them off for good.
Then a limited-edition limo stopped at their door, and the man beside her made the whole family tremble.
It turned out Eileen had long since made a name for herself around the world.
"Mess with my woman, and I'll make you fucking regret it."
7.3
I was summoned home from boarding school for a funeral, thinking my family finally wanted me back. I stood in the pouring rain, watching a mahogany casket disappear into the mud, while the silence in my head felt like it was drowning me.
That night, I hid behind a tapestry and listened through a vent to my father’s study. He wasn't talking about grief. He was talking about "tissue compatibility" and "near-perfect matches" with the family lawyer.
They didn't want a daughter; they wanted a donor. My father’s voice was devoid of emotion as he discussed "the harvest." My half-sister was dying, and I was the spare part they had been growing for years. They had even removed the lock from my bedroom door so I could never truly shut them out.
The realization shattered me. I was just a biological backup plan, a life deemed less valuable than the one they preferred. How could a father look at his own child and see nothing but a heart to be cut out and transplanted?
I didn't wait for them to come for me. I stuffed a backpack, flushed my SIM card, and climbed out the window into a thunderstorm. I caught a bus to the middle of nowhere, ending up in a seat next to a massive, predatory man named Hoyt who looked like he’d killed people for less than a seat preference.
He pinned my wrist with a grip like iron and growled, "Who sent you?"
I couldn't speak to defend myself, but as we rolled into a dying town called Blackwood Creek, I knew one thing for certain. I would rather take my chances with a stranger with a gun than stay another night with the family that wanted me dead.