dam·sel in dis·tress /ˈdamzəl in dəˈstres/ (noun): 1. A young woman in trouble (With the implication that the woman needs to be rescued). 2. A stereotype of someone in trouble who needs a hero to save them.

Soule is the packs Omega, and by the waterfall, he finds his mate, along with a threat to the pack that won't take a "no" for an answer.

Ebony has been abandoned in a forest where "moving" trees force her to a house in the middle of the forest. A house of seven Werewolves where one claims she's His. But with Death following her, will she just put them all in danger?

Ragne has finally found his mate, his soul. But at birth she's cursed to die. Ragne and his pack work to prevent the curse from coming true. And they succeed...But what happens when Dawn is left alone in the very place she was cursed?

A dying race, strong magic, adventure, and a strange dream collide when Marie falls in a mist. Due to outstanding requests to edit this story will be under edit until further notice. Those who have read it before please help with feed back on the new updates! Highest rank 141 in transformation

Why is it that the wolf is always portrayed as the villain? I mean seriously, maybe the poor guy was justified in his actions. Did you ever think about that? There are many tales about "big bad" wolves that are always seen as the enemy. They are the glutinous monsters craving the meat of kind generous pigs or a wise old grandmother and her weak defenseless granddaughter in the hood...but perhaps those pigs weren't so generous, and perhaps that grandmother wasn't quite right in the head, and perhaps the girl in the hood was not so defenseless. Really, though if you take a gander here, you'll see that our poor wolf is the victim. All he wanted was just a bit of food. I mean, you can't blame a guy for being a little hungry.

Raven Zheng is definitely not crazy. At least - that's what she tells herself. It's hard to believe that when no one else can see what you see. You see, Raven can see the dead. Ghosts, if you will. They're people who died, just looking for closure and a way to move on from this life. When Raven meets Cade Woods, she's surprised to find a person who understand what she's going through, at least a little bit. He doesn't see the dead, per se, but he's seen enough death in his life to see her point of view. And then the first body is found. Soon enough, Raven is catapulted into Cade's world. There seems to be a serial killer in town, one who has connections to Cade and his father that makes him a suspect in the murders, and Raven has no way to know whether or not he can be trusted at all, given his past and his suspicious parentage. But as the body count climbs, Raven and Cade realize that they might be the only ones with the knowledge to stop the killer, even if they have to embrace their past to do it.

"You might think knowing who your soulmate was would be the best thing ever, but it isn't when you can't find out until it's all too late." "You might think knowing who your soulmate was would be the best thing ever, but it was the saddest thing to ever happen to me." What would you do if you lived in a world where once your soulmate dies, their last words appear on your skin in black ink? ◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆ Completed Science Fiction Short Story Highest Ranking in Science Fiction: #142 Highest Ranking in Completed Science Fiction: #63 ◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆

*used to be called Wolf Elements* when Sydney didn't shift on her 12th birthday like all werewolves do whole pack including her brother started abusing her. until she finally shifts and didn't tell anyone and ran away. Sorry I am bad at descriptions but please read

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.