Humiliated and in heat, Idalia was forced to attend the Moonlight Masquerade in hopes of finding a mate to satisfy her body's needs.
Vulnerable to her desires, she ran into the woods to escape a potential scandal. But when a masked man catches her, his touch tosses all reasoning aside.
What should have been a simple humiliating event for the princess turns into a night of passion.
There was one problem though: she couldn't remember who she mated with!
The slave who carried her to bed.
The knight who knelt before her and offered his canines for touching her.
The sworn enemy Alpha Prince, who confessed his love for her.
Follow Idalia as she navigates between three Weres. One is a pretty guy eager to please her to escape his fate, another trying to reclaim his honour while unable to control his desires, and the last is a villain using her for his goals, but a flame festers between them at every interaction.
A slave, a knight and a villain prince, who will she choose?
[ Mature Content ]
"You smell like the sun." His strides are long and confident, heading in my direction like he knows exactly what he wants. He stops before me, and my head tips back. "How is that possible?" His voice drops to a rumbling whisper.
Now that he was close to me, the burning ache deep within started to throb and palpitate. His body tensed, and then he was on me, nose against my neck, inhaling deeply, one hand on the side of my hair, pinning me in place with his hips.
My head tilts back, unable to stop myself from giving into his touch, exposing my neck more to him, his chest rumbling as he licks the side of my skin, kissing and nipping, placing his scent over me. I am completely and utterly at his mercy.
I vaguely hear material ripping, and then his warm hand cups me. "You're not finished yet," his voice is thick and deep, and it shoots straight to my tingling, pulsing core. His touch is almost possessive, and I nearly beg him to do whatever he wants with me.
"Should I make it better?" His whisper is a caress against my ear before he nips the lobe, a bite promising that this would not be tender.
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