Her Alpha Neighbor Wolf (Obsessed Mates #3) Read Online Ariana Hawkes

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Obsessed Mates Series by Ariana Hawkes

Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 31513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)

If you like steamy insta-love romance, featuring obsessed, growly heroes who’ll do anything for their mate, you’ll love this brand-new series!

When I discover that my father is planning to gift me to one of his rivals, I run.
—To a secret house that my mom told me about, right before she died.
I’m expecting a lonely, broken-down place. But instead, I find my mom’s best friend.
He was just a kid when she was snatched away, but he never forgot her,
never forgave himself for not protecting her.
And now he’s promising to protect me.
He’s all grown-up now—a powerful Alpha of his own pack—
and he’s kind of scary. But when I look into his eyes, I feel safe.
Trouble is, that’s not all I’m feeling…

Vaughn is too old for me, way out of my league. But when his burning gaze rakes me up and down, one thing lights up my brain:
I’m his.
The Alpha’s mate.
Not possible.
Is it?

This is a totally SAFE, steamy insta-love romance, featuring an obsessed, possessive hero. If you love reading about forbidden, age-gap, forced-proximity romances, you’ll love Vaughn and Lily’s story.
Promised: Tons of feels, dirty talk and a sweet HEA!




You have arrived! announces my GPS.

“Yes. I. Freaking. Have!” I reply to my disembodied friend. Her little-miss-sunshine positivity has been grating on my nerves for the past few hours, but honestly, if she had a hand, I’d high-five her right now. I pull up alongside a narrow driveway, flop back against the headrest, and exhale a long breath.

My eyes are burning, and there’s enough adrenaline in my system to power an entire football team.

But I made it.

I darn well made it.

All the way here. Twelve hours of white-knuckle driving, sustained by gas station snacks and the same ten power pop anthems playing on a loop. Not bad, considering I only got my license a week ago.

Screw you, Daddy.

Not suggestible. Weak. Incapable of supporting myself, after all, huh?

I wish he could see me now—

Except, I’m praying I never lay eyes on the guy again.

Or the asshole he was planning to gift me to as part of a business deal.

“You got it, grrrl,” growls Shaney Briggs from the car’s speakers.

“Yeah, I got it!” I echo, and before I know it, I’m fist pumping at the car’s dark interior.

Wow. What’s gotten into me? I’ve never done a fist pump in my life before.

But then, I’ve never escaped from my father’s clutches before.

Escaped to what, though? I turn off the audio and peer through the gathering dusk at a pair of tall, wrought-iron gates. There’s a plaque on the left, half-hidden by ivy, but I can just make out the number 34. My GPS friend has gotten me to the correct address, at least. But if I’m not mistaken, I can also make out a bunch of chains and a padlock hanging between the gates. My heart sinks.

I jump out of the car and take a closer look. Yup—it’s a padlock. And of course, I don’t have a key. Or any ninja lock-breaking skills.

I cling onto the gates, squinting down the driveway. It curves sharply to the right, so I can’t see what lies at the end of it. Could be dangerous climbing over without knowing what’s on the other side.

Well, I’ve stolen my dad’s car, escaped the family compound, and driven twelve hours. Is a little detail like that going to stop me now?

Hells no.

I tuck in the laces of my sneakers so they don’t get caught, and before I lose my nerve, I start scaling the fancy ironwork.

Four steps and I’m up. That wasn’t so hard. I swing a leg over the top, scramble down the other side, and land in the dirt with a thud. Easy. I dust some rusty paint flecks from my hands.

As I walk up the crunching gravel driveway, thunder rumbles in the distance and the sky darkens. Crap. Storm clouds have been chasing me all the way up here, and it looks like they’re about to drop. Hope it doesn’t take long to figure out how to get inside—

I stop dead, shivers cascading through me.

Because there’s the house:

A big, two-story Victorian. Steeply sloping roof, shutters at the windows, a wraparound porch, and a balcony on the second story. Various shades of green, and a ton of white gingerbread trim.

This is it—the house where my mom was raised. Where she lived until her dad took the whole family away when she was sixteen years old. I stand for a moment, taking it all in, while I rub at the gooseflesh on my forearms.

Doesn’t look like it’s occupied, thank goodness. There’s no outdoor furniture in sight, no lights showing through the windows or the fanlight above the sturdy front door. And no vehicles parked in the driveway.

Welcome home.

I jump and look around wildly. “Who said that?” It was like someone whispered it in my ear. In a voice that sounded a lot like my mom’s. But that’s not possible, because she’s dead—