They hated each other since they were kids. Shane Brontë was the boy who made fun of her hair in kindergarten. He laughed when she scrapped her knee when she fell in fifth grade. And he moved away when they were in seventh grade, saying one last thing before he left. "When I come back, I will be a lot worse. You think...
I had my face buried in his neck, he smells so good. He was gripping my waist not letting me fall. Then I realized I was straddling his lap. "Oh I'm sorry, you're probably uncomfortable" I say awkwardly starting to get off him. "No wait, I wasn't ready to let go yet" he hand once again finding my thigh to pull me back...
"Stop. Stop, please." I sob as the whip comes down on my back once more. "Shut up yo-" my tormentor's words are cut off by a ferocious growl. I sense another masculine figure in the dark room, but can't make out a word he's shouting. The burning and searing pain that I'm experiencing is just too much. A sickening snap...
My name is Sarah Ann Clair i am 18 years old i am the betas daughter .My father lost his mate My mother in a rouge attack ever since that day i have been what people would say or call me "Mute" me and my mother were closer than ever now that i lost her i feel like half of me is gone. People say i would talk again once...
"Calum, why is everyone in this town so afraid of you?" [this isn't scary i promise]