Filed To Story: Zaia Toussaint and Sebastian King: Werewolf Book PDF Free
“You spaced.”
“Sorry, I was thinking…”
A tense silence falls between us, and he looks at me. “I am your friend before I am your Beta Sebastian. If something is troubling you, tell me. You know you can trust me.”
“It’s nothing.”
I brush it off, not wanting to discuss it.
Dad is already pushing me into a corner, forcing my hand when it comes to the business, Mom isangry at me. Goddess knows where Zaia is and how she’s doing.
The thoughts given birth by fear are clawing to the forefront of my mind.
What if in my attempts to protect her I have put her in worse danger?
“I’ll find out as fast as possible.”
I look up and raise a brow. “What?”
I ask.
“The full breakdown of who has entered and left the pack, Sebastian.”
I shake my head, massaging my temples. “This hangover is rough.”
“Yeah, sure,”
he replies, standing up. He’s upset, because I’m not telling him, but whoever it is made it clear I couldn’t.
If it was my life on the line, I wouldn’t care, but she’s the target. She’s the one they will hurt if I defy them.
“I’m sorry…”
I reply quietly.
“Well, whenever you’re ready to share, you know where I am.”
The door shuts behind him with a sharp snap, leaving me alone in my office which stinks of alcohol.
Standing up, I draw the blinds shut before walking over to the door and locking it.
I push my desk back, pulling the rug up and move the chair away, before turning and walking to thelarge 3D artwork that hangs behind my desk, depicting a wolf. His eyes filled with rage and his fangs bared.
Staring at the image, I place my finger on the centre of his forehead, feeling something buzz and then a faint click.
I look to the ground where my desk usually stands, watching as the panels move back, revealing a metre square area. There’s a panel on it and crouching down, I place my hand on it, allowing it toscan my hand.
‘Enter Pin’ Flashes on the screen and I quickly thumb it in and finally… the key…
I pull out the chain from around my neck that has a metal tag at the end that I always wear underneath my clothes. Clicking on the small indent, it clicks and a slim intricate key-like panel pops out. I remove it and place it into the small square that awaits it.
A faint blue light scans over the entire surface before a faint whirring sound comes from it and thedoor of the safe swings open.
It’s half a metre deep, and it’s filled with money, papers, files and old books and boxes.
I reach for one specific box, and take it out. I unlock it with a pin, and flip it open, taking out theyellowed paper that’s been torn from an old book along with a white envelope.
I stare at the torn paper, reading the italic text at the bottom of the page.
‘Beware the one that wears the mark of discord, mischief and death.’
But it isn’t the message that makes my heart race, but the image itself. Despite how battered it has become over the years, it’s clear. An ancient symbol that does not align with any language, but what gets to me is that it’s identical to Zaia’s birthmark that sits on the side of her left breast…
A mark that somehow holds far more importance and meaning than we know. Someone knows about it and I know if others found out about it, it will only put her in danger. Even those who currently love her would turn upon her.
I place the paper down and take out the envelope from the box. It contains another white card, butthis time there’s also a photograph included. A photograph of Zaia on the balcony of our mansion, with her hands in her hair, and circled in a red pen, is her birthmark.
Anger flits through me as I glare at the card once more.
WHAT WOULD THE PACK DO IF THEY KNEW THEIR LUNA WILL BRING THEM DESTRUCTION?
I toss the photograph down, running my fingers through my hair.
Someone knew about the mark, I don’t know how, but they were able to get close enough to take this picture.
I’ve messed up, I thought I’ll send her away and I’ll keep an eye on her, what if I’ve put her at agreater risk by doing so?
The unanswered questions spin in my mind, like a foreboding cloud hanging above my head.
Who are they? Where are they hiding? And above all, why? Why are they doing this?
The ultimate question is, is there really more to Zaia and her birthmark, or was it all a myth of thepast?
ZAIA.
New Year’s Eve is upon us, and I am rushing around helping with settingup the banquet hall.
Atticus’s mother fell ill with the cold a few days ago and since I washelping Mrs Watson with the flower arrangements I offered to help withthe event organising. I wish I didn’t, because I didn’t think it meant
I’d be stuck around Atticus for the last few days.
For an Alpha, who surely has much more to do, he visited often until Iwas getting looks from the other female staff.
Envious, amused, and a few jealous. I did not ask for his attention, and
I really wish he wasn’t so intrigued.
Since that day in the car, things have been a little more awkward betweenus.
“Place them to the right. They’ll fit better there.”
I call out to theorganisers as I make my way over to them.
“Here, Miss?”
The man replies, looking confused.
I nod with a small smile. “Yes, right here.”
He obeys, before smiling slightly. “You’re right. It reflects just right.
Thank you.”
“No problem. Do the same for the other tables and just make sure they’renot placed right near the mirrors.”
I turn away and glance up at thefloral arrangements that hang from the ceiling of the grand hall.
It’s going to be a masked ball, something I had suggested after I hadlearned that Sebastian will be making an appearance.
It was a risky decision and the chances he’ll see right through me arehigh, especially due to the fact that last time I lost my composure atthe mention of Sebastian. But he hasn’t said anything again. I think fornow he believes me.
I look around the hall and hide a smile, satisfied.
It’s breathtaking… but it’s also a painful reminder of every party I’veattended with Sebastian. When he treated me like I was the only one forhim…
Where did it go wrong?
“Such a pretty face in a stunning environment shouldn’t look so down.”
I spin around to see Atticus walking down the centre of the hall, handsin his pockets as he looks around the hall and whistles slowly.
“Oh, I’m fine,”
I reply, smiling smoothly, squashing my thoughts.
“You did an incredible job, almost as if you’re used to it,”
he says,whistling slowly. “I’m truly impressed, Zaia.”
“Thanks, I just like party planning,”
I reply. By now I’ve noticed he isindeed rather sharp and I’m aware of his indirect remarks, alreadyprepared and alert around him.
“Well, I don’t think our hall has ever looked better. Mrs Watson told meyou helped with the flower arrangements, too.”
“I did. So tell me, Alpha- sorry, Atticus… why do you choose freshflowers every year?”
I ask, trying to divert the conversation frommyself.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.