Revenge of the Wronged
by Hettie Ivers
Werelock Evolution #3
Publication Date: October 11, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Paranormal
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.
Excerpt from Slip of Fate (Werelock Evolution #1)
My eyes flew open to find the face of the lost little boy in the mall reflected back at me. Hurt. Scared. Yet still hopeful of salvation.
“Maybe you’re afraid to find out what you might mean to me,” he said, the words delivered with the innocence of a choirboy, spoken as if he was processing them for the first time himself. “Maybe it terrifies you to know that you’ve always belonged with someone like me.”
Or maybe it terrified him. Either way, it was the sincerity in his eyes that stumped me. I had no defense, no good comeback for that. He must have sensed my wavering reticence, my tremulous resolve, because his next play went straight for the kill.
Those hypnotic eyes never left mine as his hands skimmed around my hips and up my sides, traveling gently over my quivering stomach up to my heaving chest. His touch was tender, but oh, so very proprietary! His fingertips traced my collarbone at the leisurely pace of one who has infinite time, dipping between the valley of my breasts and then circling around my slight, fleshy mounds with the confidence of one who holds exclusive privilege.
And as adept hands proceeded to more intimately discover me through the thin barrier of my henley and bra, it served to illustrate two very important, disconcerting facts: My legs really were locked around his waist in a wanton death grip; and I was in way over my head.
“I know it’s all happening fast, and you’re scared, but I’ll be so gentle … so careful,” he pledged. “I won’t hurt you.” His thumb rolled casually over my nipple where it lay crested beneath a layer of cotton. My eyelids grew heavy; my vision blurred as I arched into his hand.
A hint of a smile warmed his eyes. “I promise, my sweet girl.” His lips ghosted mine, searching for a boundary—tempting me to let it down. “No matter how much I want you, I won’t take anything from you you’re not ready to give.”
His lips tentatively touched and retreated, teeth gently captured and released, sucked and nibbled, then abandoned, again and again, until my fingers had crept around his neck and I was straining forward in my attempt to follow his retreating, teasing mouth each time he pulled away from me.
“That’s it,” he said, nipping my lower lip, “show me what you want. I promise you can have it.” My lips moved hesitantly over his, kissing him back. “So safe … so slow … ”
He was palming both of my breasts in his capable hands, stimulating my nipples in a way that had me aching and seeping desire between my thighs.
“Just want to explore,” he professed ingenuously, before too briefly slipping his tongue in and out of my willing mouth in an inciting kiss, “… play a little.” I moaned and lightly bit his full bottom lip as he’d done mine, silently demanding his tongue again. “Help you find out what you like … show you how good you can feel …”
With another whimper he at last gave me his tongue back. And then some! Thrusting deeply, invading fully, he had me all too quickly teetering on a surprisingly delicate precipice between pleasure and pain—one that went so much further than physical awareness alone.
His tongue overwhelmed mine, staking irrefutable claim to the inner sanctum of my mouth with a quiet dominance that both enslaved and freed me, awakening my senses to a whole new world and a part of myself I wasn’t sure I was prepared to know.
He groaned into my mouth as his tongue stroked my depths in a manner that felt thoroughly indecent—so shockingly naughty, considering it was only a kiss.
Except it wasn’t “only” anything. It was everything. It spoke volumes to how he felt about me. How much he did want me—even if it was a game. And I knew without a doubt that he’d keep hammering away at my meager defenses until that hard girth of his that I was once again shamelessly grinding myself upon was thrusting intensely inside of me, owning my body the way his tongue was presently possessing my mouth.
About Hettie Ivers
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.