
The Wolf's Call
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For Olivia Morgan, survival means keeping her head down and ignoring the strange dreams that have haunted her since childhood.
But on Halloween night, the woods she's always feared become all too real. What begins as an innocent dare with her friends ends with Olivia stumbling upon a silver cage, and inside it is someone that changes her life for the better...or worse.
The Wolf's Call Chapter 1
"What...the fuck?"
You know that mode your body is sent into when you're in danger? The fight or flight?
No...no, my body chooses to freeze.
Right here, in the middle of the woods. Right here, in front of a steel cage that currently houses the biggest, most ethereal, black wolf I've ever seen in my life.
Well, not that I've ever seen a wolf to begin with.
At my voice, its head peaks up and I'm met with its golden eyes. There's something odd about it though. It looks like it understands my shock and is amused...in a human kind of way.
"Nope," I whisper. "I'm not about to be that horror movie character."
Besides, I may be a little high, and I'm imagining things.
With that, I manage to take a step back, then another, and then finally, I spin around and begin trying to retrace my steps back the way I came.
However, before I'm even ten steps gone, there's this sickening sound that fills the woods. It's like the snapping of a million twigs. No, more like bone.
I turn sharply back to the wolf and to my horror, it's body is contorting in the most disturbing way.
Giant paws turn to human hands and black fur begins to give way to smooth bronze skin.
"I'm sorry, let me just –" it speaks, as it continues to contort.
I'm seconds away from pissing my pants as my body once again, has chosen to freeze instead of getting the fuck out of here.
There's one final snap of a bone and a sigh of relief escapes his throat.
The black wolf in the cage...just turned into a man?
Nah, I'm way higher than I originally thought.
"Well, hello there," he says, his voice smooth, rich and utterly unfazed by the fact that he just shifted from a wolf to a human. "Didn't expect company tonight."
My body heats up instantly, and I begin to sweat even though it's cold out here tonight.
Not because I'm scared, which I obviously am. I mean, I just watched a massive, terrifying beast shift into a very human, very muscular, very naked man.
And, you know, that's a lot.
But it's the voice that gets me.
It's captivating as hell, and I might add, it's the sexiest voice I've ever heard. It isn't that stereotypical deep voice.
No.
It's a charming voice. One that takes me to lalaland.
My curiosity is now piqued, and I'm most definitely that character in every horror movie, as I take a few steps closer to the cage.
He has this lopsided grin on his face, like he isn't trapped and like shifting from a wolf to an attractive man is an everyday adventure.
He sighs dramatically, but the grin never leaves his lips.
My eyes drift, and okay, I'm only human. He's beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair.
His red hair is long and messy but in a way that seems intentional, and his eyes, a stunning, ethereal green that almost glows in the dim light, are locked on mine, far too amused for someone who was a literal animal five seconds ago.
And then there are the tattoos.
Intricate and ancient-looking, they run down his arms, curling up to his neck like some kind of old magic. And, of course, there's the very present fact that he's still naked.
I don't respond. I can't. I'm still staring at him...at his beautiful form, at the grin on his perfect lips that has now reduced to a faint and seductive smirk.
He tilts his head, as if examining me too. I notice he sniffs the air, and there's an emotion that crosses his eyes, but it's too brief for me to name it.
"You're not running," he notes. "That's a good sign."
That jolts me out of my daze. "Who...what...who the hell are you?"
His smirk deepens. "Ah. You must be new to all this." He leans forward, gripping the silver bars, only to hiss and immediately pull back. The skin on his fingers blisters on contact. "Shit. Forgot about that."
I blink several times to convince myself that I'm not dreaming or hallucinating from the amount of 'special' brownies in my system, and that I'm really here.
"You forgot?" I draw out, unsure of whether I'm supposed to be talking to him.
He shrugs. "I was distracted. A pretty girl shows up in the middle of the night, staring at me like she's never seen a naked man before-"
"Oh my God-"
"-and I got a little caught up in the moment," he finishes, unfazed.
I pinch the bridge of my nose in embarrassment, but that doesn't stop my eyes from drifting over his toned body again.
"Let me guess," he continues, stretching out his long legs as much as the cage allows. "You have questions."
"Nah, I'm probably way too high and you're part of my hallucinations."
"High? In the woods?" He chuckles, then he leans further back. "You just might be more interesting than me tonight."
I scowl. "Why are you in there?"
"I thought you didn't have questions?"
I glare at him and his smirk turns into a tired sigh.
"Well since you're asking, some crazy warlock," he says easily, gesturing to the bars. "He trapped me here like a damn zoo exhibit, but I'd really love to get out now."
"And how do I know that you're not the bad guy here? Maybe you're the crazy one and the warlock was doing society a good one by locking you up here.
His eyes darken for a split second, but then they brighten up again. "Okay, maybe I'm the crazy one, but that rascal is never the good guy in any case scenario."
Okay, so that's clearly a sour topic.
I cross my arms. "And what happens if I let you out? You turn back into a wolf and eat me?"
He laughs, and I hate how warm the sound is. "Tempting, but no." He leans forward again, this time careful not to touch the bars. "What's your name?"
"No, no, that's not the right sequence of our conversation," I shake my head and take a step closer to the cage. "What are you exactly?"
His brows crease for a slight moment, but then his smirk returns. "You haven't heard of my kind before?"
"Oh, I have very much heard of your kind, except from movies and smutty novels, which is all fiction by the way."
"Smutty novels? So your kind has sexual fantasies about my kind?"
My body heats up again and I clear my throat. "That wasn't my point."
"What was, then? You shouldn't have mentioned it if it wasn't your–"
"Are you a werewolf?" I cut him off.
His smirk gives way to a grin and he shoves his two thumbs up. "You're smart, I think I'm in love with you."
"Yeah, no."
I don't know how I'm still calm at this point. My mind is working overtime to accept the fact that I'm talking to a man that can change into a wolf.
I know I should run, but my brain doesn't pick up any sign of danger from him. And I have very good instincts, so that means something.
I turn around, taking in the woods around me, suddenly hyper aware in case anyone of his kind might be lurking around somewhere.
After a moment, I turn back to him with a sigh. "Olivia."
It takes him a second to comprehend that I'm giving him my name and once he does, his grin spreads even wider.
"Beautiful name," he says smoothly. "I'm Ezekiel. Also known as Zeke. And now that we're officially friends, how about you do me a solid and let me out? You see, I'm an Alpha. A powerful one, I might add, and it's very undignified to be locked in here like a house dog."
Well, that was pretty straightforward.
I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, so powerful you got locked up in a cage like a house dog."
"That hurts, Olivia. Deeply." He places a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "I thought we had something special. And besides, I was trapped here with magic, okay? Powerful Alpha isn't immune to magic."
I roll my eyes. "Why can't you let yourself out?"
His expression sobers slightly. He lifts one hand, his fingers hovering just above the silver bars. "You saw that earlier, didn't you? Or are you deliberately trying to make me hurt myself again?"
I raise a questioning brow, and he just sighs.
He presses a fingertip to the metal, and his skin sizzles. I flinch as he pulls back, showing me the fresh burn.
Oh...that's what that was about earlier.
"See? Silver burns us."
I ignore the uneasy twist in my stomach and I shrug.
"Well, I'm not exactly immune to silver myself, so it looks like you're stuck in there, buddy."
He stills. "Wait." His green eyes sharpen as he studies me. "You said what?"
I blink. "What?"
"The silver." His voice drops slightly. "It burns you?"
I shift uncomfortably. "Yeah, so? I'm allergic."
For a brief second, he looks completely thrown. Then, something flickers behind his eyes, something akin to realization.
"What?" I demand. "You're being weird."
Good thing to say, Liv. He's a werewolf, in case you forgot. He is weird.
He hesitates. "Where are you from?"
I frown. "Town?"
He studies me for another long, unsettling moment, then shakes his head. "Never mind. Just...Olivia, I really need you to get me out."
"And why the hell should I?"
His lips quirk up again. "Because I'm charming?"
I let out a dry laugh. "Try again."
He sighs dramatically. "Look, all you have to do is break the latch with a big rock. You don't have to touch the bars since you say you're allergic."
"And then what? You just... walk free?"
"Pretty much," he says. "Unless you want me to owe you a life debt, in which case, I'd be forever in your service, my lady."
I roll my eyes. "You're not a very serious person, I gather?"
He winks. "I'm serious enough to be Alpha."
"Yeah, I totally believe you."
After another long pause, I sigh, scanning the ground for a rock. This is a bad idea. A terrible idea.
But something in me, something I don't understand, is pulling me to do it.
I grab the biggest rock I can find and slam it against the lock.
The metal latch snaps and the door creaks open.
Zeke moves fast. Too fast. He crawls out, rising to his full height, easily a foot taller than me, and stretches his arms over his head with a sigh of relief.
Still naked.
I look away, trying to hide the burn in my face.
Then, suddenly, he's right in front of me, so quick and quiet, I didn't even hear him approach.
My heart leaps in my throat and I'm about to scream out, thinking I trusted him too easily and he's in fact a bad guy.
However, my body turns to jelly as I take in his scent. He smells like honey and I'm suddenly light headed in a good way by the scent.
His gaze darkens as he looks down on me and the teasing in his eyes disappears.
He looks at me like I'm something rare. Something Precious.
And then, in a voice lower, rougher and sexier than before, he says, "Mate."
At that word, something stirs deep inside me. A pull. A connection. Something old.
"Mate."
Continue Reading
The Wolf's Call of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

8.4
To keep her grandmother on life support, Aracely was blackmailed into taking Evelyn's place in the pitch-black bedroom of the ruthless billionaire, Brennen Levine.
After that night, Evelyn tossed a hideous silicone scar at her feet, forcing Aracely to glue it to her face and work as a bottom-tier maid in his estate so he would never recognize her.
Brennen, suffering from chronic insomnia, was completely addicted to the sweet gardenia scent of the woman from the dark. But when he saw the "disfigured" Aracely scrubbing floors, he was physically repulsed, publicly humiliating her and calling her a monster.
Meanwhile, Evelyn paraded around as his soon-to-be wife. Terrified of her lies unraveling, Evelyn constantly abused Aracely, throwing scalding coffee at her face and threatening to pull the plug on her grandmother if Aracely didn't sneak back into Brennen's room to act as his human sleeping pill.
Aracely endured the suffocating fake scar, the insults, and the freezing servant quarters. She ground her teeth, swallowing the bitter injustice just to keep her only family alive, wondering when this torturous hell would ever end.
But Evelyn's malice knew no bounds. When Evelyn raised her hand to strike again, threatening to rip off the very disguise she forced Aracely to wear, something inside Aracely finally snapped.
"Do not push me."
Aracely locked her hand around Evelyn's wrist in a bone-crushing grip, completely unaware that Brennen was watching from the balcony above, his dark eyes narrowing as a dangerous realization hit him.

9.4
I thought the Burch family gave me a loving home when they took me out of the orphanage.
But when the global deep freeze apocalypse hit, my adoptive parents mercilessly kicked me out of the bunker to freeze to death.
As I lay dying in the snow, covered in horrific purple frostbite, my adoptive sister Kendal walked past me in a pristine designer jacket.
Around her neck was my only childhood possession—an antique gold necklace my adoptive mother had ripped off my neck to give to her.
Kendal gloated, bragging that my pendant held a magical space with infinite supplies and fresh food while the rest of the world starved.
I realized I had spent years emptying my life savings to fund their luxury cars and fake medical emergencies.
They had drained my bank accounts, stolen my bloodline's heirloom, and used my magical lifeline to live like royalty while leaving me to die.
I took my last ragged breath in that blinding blizzard, consumed by a toxic hatred.
Why was I so hopelessly weak? Why did I let them take everything from me?
Opening my eyes again, the painful frostbite scars were gone. My skin was warm.
I grabbed my phone. The screen lit up: November 12.
It was exactly three days before the world ended.
When my adoptive mother called, faking a tearful emergency to demand another thirty thousand dollars, I smiled coldly.
"Just tell me where to send the money, Mom."
This time, I'm taking my space back, and I'm going to drain them dry.

8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.

9.3
On her wedding night at The Plaza Hotel, Clara went looking for her husband.
Instead, she found him in the dimly lit parking garage, passionately pinning down her bridesmaid.
She couldn't even scream or expose them. Just hours before the ceremony, Julian had tricked her into signing away her twenty percent shares of their co-founded company, leaving her completely penniless and unable to pay her grandmother's life-saving medical bills.
Fleeing in absolute despair, a sudden hotel blackout plunged her into a second nightmare. She was dragged into a pitch-black room and brutally violated by a heavily drugged stranger.
When a shattered Clara returned to the office to audit the books and reclaim her power, Julian demoted her to a dusty desk by the trash cans.
He flaunted his mistress in the executive suite and deliberately sent Clara into a horrifying trap. He arranged for vicious clients to drug and assault her, demanding high-definition blackmail photos so he could divorce her with absolutely nothing.
"Since you want to play rough, you can service Mr. Petrocelli tonight," the thug sneered, locking the VIP room door.
Clara was pushed to the brink of hell. Why was the man she devoted three years of her life to trying to destroy her so completely? And why did the freezing cedarwood scent of the stranger who ruined her in the dark perfectly match Conrad Vance, the ruthless CEO and Julian's untouchable uncle?
Rather than let Julian win, Clara smashed a glass bottle, held the jagged edge to her own throat to force the men back, and threw herself off the second-floor balcony into the freezing night.
But the bone-crushing impact never came. A massive figure shot out from the shadows and caught her, and her brutal counterattack finally began.

8.8
The only thing more dangerous than the game is the man guarding the crease.
Lyon Navarro has spent his entire career tearing down the San Diego Stormbreakers. As the city's most ruthless journalist, he's made an art form out of exposing the Alphas' volatile tempers and their scandalous lives off the rink. He's the man they love to hate-until a desperate management team offers him the biggest paycheck of his life to fix their image.
The assignment? Tame the six most notorious werewolves in the league.
But Lyon isn't just dealing with professional athletes; he's stepping into a den of apex predators who have been waiting for him to cross their territory. And they have no intention of playing nice.
Rafael Stone, the team's intense, iron-willed captain, has made one thing clear: if Lyon wants to manage the pack, he's going to have to survive them. But between the locker room tension, the high-stakes pressure of the season, and the way the pack's gazes feel like a physical brand on his skin, Lyon realizes he's no longer just reporting the story-he's the one being hunted.
In a world of adrenaline, cold ice, and raw, lupine desire, Lyon is about to discover that the line between enemy and lover is thinner than a skate blade.
Six Alphas. One PR strategist. And a season that's about to get very, very hot.
Beyond the Ice is a high-stakes, slow-burn MM hockey werewolf romance. Expect intense power dynamics, sizzling tension, and a pack that doesn't just want to win the cup-they want to claim their man.

9.0
Ashlyn was supposed to be just a fragile college student, selling her rare blood to a vicious crime syndicate enforcer to keep his dying sister alive.
But the dynamic shattered when Alex returned from a two-month disappearance. He stepped into the penthouse covered in dirt and blood, sporting a horrific, jagged knife wound slashed completely across his face.
Knowing exactly how to exploit his insecurities, Ashlyn played the role of the terrified victim to perfection. She screamed, pushed against his chest, and called him a terrifying monster. Humiliated and enraged by her blatant disgust, Alex violently smashed a marble table and kicked her out. He forced her out into a freezing, torrential rainstorm without a coat, vowing to kill her if she ever showed her face again.
What the ruthless enforcer didn't know was that her pathetic, trembling tears were a flawless, calculated lie. She wasn't a helpless, greedy girl. She was a cold-blooded corporate mastermind hiding from a family of elite assassins. She desperately needed his impenetrable penthouse fortress to stay alive, and she knew the only way to secure her place wasn't to ask for it, but to make him beg for her return.
Three days later, his sister's organs began to fail, and the hospital's blood bank ran dry.
"I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get here."
Listening to the desperate, broken voice of the monster over her burner phone, Ashlyn smiled coldly in the dark. The trap had snapped shut, and he had just handed her all the power.











