The Lycan King And His Human-fated Mate

m. Before her, the battered screen of her laptop displayed a whirlwind of meticulously compiled research—a tangled web of historical accou

ossomed into something more substantive. Long nights had been whiled away in dusty library archives and dimly lit internet ca

ense of grim satisfaction washing over her. She had delivered on her promise to Carter—this preliminary exposé was

f the culmination of her efforts to her erstwhil

, here they are, wrapped up in a nice, bloody bow. Ti

ion hub. She had poured her very lifeblood into this undertaking, fueled by a desperation to rekindle the spark that had once burned so fervently within he

r face as she opened the pane, a familiar comfort that momentarily transported her back to simpler times. Her thoughts turned, unbidden, to her parents: would they be

from her reverie. Stifling a groan, she snatched up the device, her chest t

que in an effort to mask the undercurren

crackled through the speaker, laced with its trademark sardonic edge. "S

fforts, a staple of their tumultuous working relationship. "I take it you've had a chanc

aps the call had disconnected. But then Carter's voice returned, uncharacteristically sole

op—the inevitable dismissal, the scornful rebuke that would send her a

ening pause, this one stretching o

? Carter Wilkins, the most jaded, seen-it-all curmudgeon to ever grace the newsroom, was impr

ed, hating how her voice betraye

. You were always one of the few fresh-faced pups in this business who showed some

ess succession of professional disappointments and setbacks. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself t

Lily could envision the wizened editor puffing contemplatively on his ubiquitous stubby cigar. "You've manage

ad known, from the moment those first whispers of the Drake legacy had slithered into her awareness, that she was ventu

minarily, was an achievement in and of itself—one th

?" She prompted, unable to fully mask the under

Kid, what you've uncovered here isn't just a story; it's a goddamn masterpiece

mbling blocks, all the near-misses, and all the all the personal catastrophes that had derailed her

he heard herself asking, unable to tamp down the b

not just giving you the green light; I'm throwing open the damned

, cognizant of her parents slumbering just down the hall. Instead, she settled for a shuddering exhalation, on

gly inadequate to convey the depth of her gratitude

o prove that you've still got that fire burning in your belly. And trust me, after pouring over this litt

e, the risks inherent in such an undertaking—the shadows they would inevitably be delving into—and the implications should her theories prove

ing with the first inklings of steely determ

Carter's approval

o his gravelly timbre. "Your research, your theories—they've got everyone here dizzy wi

t had been smoldering within her breast. She had done it—had managed to capture the att

"they're so jazzed about this story that they've deci

row in confusion. Partner? Since when has she ever played well w

efitting his flair for showmanship. "He's one of the hotshot photographers we've got on the payroll—a real artist with the

verrode her. "Don't even think about trying to worm your way out of this one, Blackwood," he chided as if reading her mind. "You want

pany line, she knew that compromises would have to be made. This was her shot at redemption, her chance to remind the

gh. "I'll make nice with this photographer friend of yours. But he'd better be

ts fond and smug. "That's my girl," he crowed. "Ne

lf-imposed exile. This feeling of camaraderie and shared purpose was what she had been craving all along. Not just a r

n, "when do I get to meet this 'hot

on the mischievous glint in his rheumy eyes. "Marshall's wheels are already spi

through Lily's veins. After years of languishing in the shadow of her failures, sh