Bad-boy werelock meets stubborn human girl in this epic series.
Finding love at first sight with your fated soul mate sounds so romantic. Unless, of course, that “mate” happens to be your brother’s sworn enemy and the overbearing Alpha werewolf-warlock who has taken you hostage.
Things get complicated in this twisty love-hate trilogy about a stubborn American girl who stumbles upon forbidding paranormal circumstances and finds herself at the center of a blood feud between rival South American werewolf packs. The task of taming a formidable, drop-dead sexy werelock has never been so hard. And so hot.
In Revenge of the Wronged, the highly anticipated finale to the first trilogy in the Werelock Evolution series, Milena Caro will face her greatest challenges yet.
Torn between her loyalty to her brother and her growing affection for his nemesis, Alex Reinoso, Milena vies to salvage some remnant of her former life as she becomes increasingly enmeshed in the bitter feud between werewolf packs.
Will blood prove thicker than water? Will the ill-fated blood curse Milena wields destroy her and all those she holds dear?
In the struggle between good and evil, ideals and reality often clash. And in this game of survival amid conniving, bloodthirsty supernatural opponents, it’s the player no one saw coming who will change all the rules.
**Mature Content Warning** This book contains violence, strong language, and graphic sex and is intended for adult readers.
Alex’s smile was oddly tentative as he slowly crossed to me. He was dressed in jeans and a well-fitted charcoal T-shirt. I was sure I’d never seen jeans look so sinful on a body.
Somehow he looked younger than he ever had before to me. And at the same time he was still so mature-looking and refined, far too distinguished and important to be standing in my kitchen. Yet he was. Because he wanted to.
Because he wanted to be with me.
“H-hi,” I stammered. Sharp.
I remained at a loss for better words as he sauntered over, memories of our previous night’s activities assailing me. Alex looked equally thoughtful as he reached a hand out and ran his fingertips over my hair, brushing errant strands and tangled clumps away from my face.
“You’re blushing,” he observed.
“You look crazy good in jeans,” I blurted without thinking.
He pulled me into his arms and off the ground faster than I could take my next breath, spinning me in a dizzying circle as he kissed all over my face, before softly, and so very sensuously, bestowing lingering kisses to my parted lips.
“You don’t regret it,” he said in between nibbles of my lower lip. A statement I wouldn’t—couldn’t—deny.
A deep, merry chuckle was my answer. I felt the vibration of it against my palms that were pressed to his chest, and I couldn’t help but laugh myself. He was so happy. It made my heart do a little flutter dance, knowing it was because of me … that I’d made him this happy.
“I’d like nothing better than to demonstrate to you just how much I don’t regret it by way of a repeat performance right here and now. However, my men have arrived, and you need to eat breakfast.” He set me back down on my feet.
His men? Wait. What? I realized now that I could hear multiple male voices just inside the front doorway, chatting with Bethany and making introductions. I could also hear Bethany’s heart rate accelerating. And I knew from their scent that Alex’s “men” were not human; they were wolves. Trust Bethany to chat up and flirt with a group of supernatural predators at the first opportunity.
Pushing against his chest, I drew back within the circle of his arms to peer up at him. “Alex? What’s going on?”
His features were resolute, but I glimpsed a hint of apology in his eyes as he explained, “With your permission, there are some workers here to make a few improvements to your house. Starting with the security system.”
“I don’t have a security system.”
I released a breath. Okay, given his proclivity for overprotectiveness, and the fact that evil werelocks had been plotting to kill him his entire life, I was willing to go along with letting him install a security system. A security system was harmless enough. Though he’d said that was just the start.
“What’s after the security system?” I asked, trying to keep the accusation out of my voice; reminding myself that he was asking rather than demanding. But I was not about to let him come in and alter my mother’s home until it looked like something he would live in rather than the home I loved. That was never part of the deal.
“Replacing the hot water heater.”
Damn. He was good. I couldn’t argue or complain about that one either. “And?” I pressed.
“Replacing the windows.”
I glanced down at my feet. He hadn’t even been here a whole day and he’d managed to identify and put into motion a plan to resolve all of my home’s most glaring deficiencies. And nothing he’d suggested so far was out of line or would aesthetically alter the home I’d always known.
“It’s good for the environment,” he added. “The house will be more energy efficient. And safer.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“And we’ll need to replace most of the doors. As part of the new security measures.”
I nodded mechanically. “All right.”
He cupped my cheeks between his palms and tilted my face up. “Milena, this house is part of you and your heritage. I understand how much you love it, and I have no desire to change it. But in order for us to live here, there are certain necessary alterations that must be made. Please try and understand?”
“I do. I get it.” I smiled wanly up at him. “You have to live here too. And you’re giving up living in a veritable palace with closets and bathrooms the size of condos. It’s not unreasonable for you to want a hot shower and windows that shut without a fight.”
He shook his head, threading his fingers into the hair at my nape. “That’s not the issue, sweetheart. I’ll get on just fine without the manner of bathroom and closet opulence I was accustomed to in my home in Morumbi. But I won’t survive it if something happens to you.”
“And yes,” he admitted with a slow, sexy smile that made my insides and any remaining reservations melt, “I’d also like for us to have hot showers and windows that shut. Think you can live with that compromise?” His eyes danced up and down over me. “If I promise to make it worth your while?”
I rolled my eyes and smacked his chest, but I was already grinning and flushing like a giddy fool as he dipped his head to dust his lips across my forehead. Alex could charm the panties off of a nun. Who was I kidding? I’d let him remodel the whole house if he kept looking at me like that.
“I’ll be such an attentive housemate,” he said, his lips drifting over the tip of my nose before finding my mouth again as his hand slid down my back, drawing my body closer. “So thorough,” he promised, his fingers stealing lower to cup and squeeze my ass in a way that had me instantly wet and tilting my pelvis into him. “Tireless.” His tongue swept inside my mouth, and I was swept off my feet.
I was halfway across the room seconds later, pinned against the pantry door, my ass in Alex’s hands, legs around his waist, moaning shamelessly over his thrusting tongue as he rocked into me, grinding his erection up and down my slit through the rough fabric of his jeans and the thinner fabric of my sweatpants, working my throbbing, shell-shocked clitoris to a peak in mere moments.
I could hear Bethany approaching the kitchen with Alex’s men, and still, to my helpless horror, I came the second Alex’s deep voice told me to, his mouth leaving mine just in time to cover it with his palm and suppress my cry of orgasm. I nearly choked on my own tongue in my astonishment at how fast it all happened. Alex was already whispering calming words in my ear, praising me for coming so sweetly for him. Telling me how much he loved me and how happy he was that I was letting him stay in my house with me.
And I did relax, my body sagging, then sliding down the door until my feet once again touched the floor as behind Alex’s back I heard Bethany and the men entering the room.
“Okay?” he checked with a brief, reassuring stroke of his knuckles down the side of my cheek. “No one saw,” he whispered. “Promise.”
I managed a panted, “Mm-hmm,” knowing full well that regardless of what they purportedly hadn’t seen, every single one of the male wolves in the house no doubt smelled exactly what had just transpired in my kitchen. Adorable as he was being, Alex was still Alex. And it wasn’t lost on me that he’d just marked his territory once more with that little move.
About the Author
Hettie Ivers engages in legal battles by day and smut storytelling by night. Hettie favors stories in which realistic, relatable characters must navigate fantastical, larger-than-life circumstances. She’s a sucker for sexy antiheroes, underdogs, and flawed protagonists, and she enjoys fresh spins on classic tropes with a sprinkling of satire.