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The Alpha Prince's Forbidden Love

As my eyes remained locked into Jordan's, a sudden rush of memories flooded my mind, transporting me back to our innocent childhood days to the day Jordan told me that he would be the first and only man I would ever mate. Overcome with emotion, tears of both happiness and pain trickled down my ear as I held Jordan's head firmly. "Sweetheart, you know I love you, right?" Jordan whispered, his voice deep and sensual, breaking the cold silence that had enveloped the room. "I know and I love you more," I responded in a broken whisper. "I have fantasized about this moment for years. A moment you would look me in the eyes and tell me how much you love me as you deflower me," I said as tears continued streaming down my ear. I had always fantasized about a sweet moment with Jordan. A moment that was free of pain. I never knew it would be the sweetest and most painful experience I had ever experienced in my life. "My heart beats solely for you," Jordan's sensual voice lured me into a relaxed mood as he continued trying to penetrate me.  ________________ Jordan, the Alpha Prince, fell in love with Thalia, a common maid and a human who served in his wealthy family. What seemed like childhood affection blossomed into an unbreakable bond. The more the werewolf community tries to stop them, the more they uncover lots of buried secrets that make them realize that Thalia is not actually who they think she is. [Warning: Mature Content]

Kelsey_ · Urban
Not enough ratings
114 Chs

The Footwear

Mrs. Blythe took the footwear from me and examined the small paper under it before reading it aloud.

"Do not be afraid of her. You have a strong brother," she read aloud, raising her head to meet my gaze.

"This is just a griptron paper. Someone must have dropped it on the floor, and the Queen accidentally stepped on it. Just remove it, toss it in the waste bin, and return the footwear to its rack," Mrs. Blythe instructed as she continued to hang the dress delivered by the dry cleaning company.

Unaware of why I was fixated on the footwear, Mrs. Blythe remained oblivious. Last night, as I watched Jordan write his new story, I recognized that the handwriting on the paper matched his. I couldn't help but wonder if the message was intended for me. Regardless, the words provided me with a newfound sense of strength.