Moonlight over me

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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"Harder!"

The alcohol had my mind all fuzzy-I could barely think straight as I wrapped my legs tightly around his solid waist, my hands moving over his body in a way that left no room for confusion.

He seemed a bit taken aback for a split second, but didn't say a thing. Instead, he picked up the pace.

I pulled him down into a kiss, desperate and messy. He froze for a second, then slowly held the back of my head and deepened the kiss.

His tongue dove in without apology, stealing every last bit of air from my lungs before he finally pulled back. I was breathless.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, his intense gaze locking on me. That voice of his dropped low.

"Ella, tell me. who am I?"

I gave him a dazed smile, staring up at him, mumbling, "You're... Oliver Davis..."

He didn't look away. A moment later, he shoved me down under him, and all I could do was hold on, arms flung around his shoulders.

Beads of sweat slid from his neck onto my fingers-he was burning hot. I leaned up and kissed him again.

The kiss dragged on, hungry and all-consuming. When we finally broke apart, I licked the base of his throat with a satisfied hum.

"Oliver, you're unreal..."

Just as my whole body was heating up, his hand slipped under my clothes.

He hiked up the white dress I was wearing, and I couldn't stop the sound that escaped my mouth.

Morning came, and I sat up, clutching my pounding head.

It felt like there was a rock concert happening in my skull.

The memories of last night hit me like a truck-I was huddled in a corner, heartbreak ripping me apart as I watched the one guy I thought I loved.

Jackson, the Alpha from the White Moon Pack, standing at that fancy party with his drink, laughing way too loud with everyone around him.

"Ella? She's just some stray Omega the Gru Pack picked up. Not even worth my time."

"She's just a toy. My mate's gotta be as strong as me."

Jackson stood there, surrounded by guys from his pack, laughing like it was all one big joke.

After my dad died, the Alpha of Gru Pack took me in. Ever since then, most people looked at me like I was just wasting space.

But I thought Jackson was different. For years, I followed him around like a shadow, thinking maybe-just maybe-he saw me.

Turns out, I was just a throwaway to him. A joke.

How could I have fallen for someone so damn heartless?

The pain burst out before I realized it, tears springing to my eyes.

That's when the curtains were pulled open, and sunlight came flooding in, blasting away the darkness.

"You're up?" a lazy voice asked.

I swallowed my sob, turning my head-and froze.

At the edge of the bed stood a man with piercing blue eyes, ridiculously handsome, arms crossed as he looked down at me.He was staring at me, looking a little amused. "Shouldn't you be the one crying right now, Ella Miller? You're the one who dragged me into the room, tore off your clothes, and jumped me, remember?"

It hit me who he was.

Oliver?

The Alpha from the Claw Pack?

Oh god, what have I done.

The bite mark on his flawless skin stood out like a sore thumb.

Then I saw the red mark on his neck-and froze.

I swallowed hard, hands clutching the bedsheet as I trembled.

That mark. I did that?

Yeah. No doubt.

Last night, I literally begged Oliver to stay. Wouldn't let him leave.

"Miss Miller, jogged your memory yet?" Oliver narrowed his eyes, clearly enjoying himself as he nudged me.

He let go and sat down beside me.