What would you do if you found out your billionaire boss wasn’t human?

I found out the hard way.

My boss, Alexander Blackwood, was tall, devastatingly handsome, and so commanding that even his shadow seemed expensive. I thought that was all there was to him—until I found a file with my photo labeled “Potential Breeder.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? And why did his business files mention “pack hierarchy” and “Alpha bloodlines”? 

Then I saw his eyes glowing gold in the dark. “I can smell your feelings, Sophia. And you’ve been reading things you shouldn’t.”

That’s when it all made sense. He wasn’t human.

For the sake of my freedom—and my unborn child’s—I ran.

Five years later, I’m Sophie Martinez, a single mom running an online business in Portland. My son Ethan is perfect—except he’s twice the size of other five-year-olds, his eyes flash gold when he’s mad, and yesterday he picked up a hundred-pound dog like it was nothing.

Now, expensive black cars are cruising my street. My new neighbor asks too many questions. And Ethan has started to sense things, growing uneasy.

One night, he whispers, “Mama, someone’s coming. Someone important.”

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