Fate

Fate

PuppyFreckles
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WpMetadataReadOngoing4h 2m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jan 19, 2018
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Fiction
Paranormal
Tagsdeathflowersmatessrejectionsassy
(1st in the Cursed Series) #234 in werewolf as of March 10, 2017. (Update Schedule: Monday's, and Wednesday's.) "Vivian. So nice of you to join us." The Greek god standing in front of me states. My eyes widen and I just stare gobsmacked. Who was he? And how did he know my name? "Have we met?" I say confused. He smirks at me. Holy crap. "No, if you had met me, then you would have remembered me. People have told me that I'm hard to forget." He says with a playful tone. I was gonna sass that confidence right out of there. "Really? I don't see much there TOO remember." I sass back at him. Liar. He was piece of work. Looked like he was carved. Like a hot Pinocchio. He just chuckles darkly. "You don't want to sass me darling. And your mouth says no but your body says something those pretty little lips would never dare utter." He says, his voice low and daring. I was in deep doo doo. "Who are you anyway?" I ask tentatively. "Well......My name is Caldron Baelsmyth." I gulp. He was..... "Well Darling. I'm Fate." A/N: MY STORY, MY IDEAS, YOU NO TOUCHY YOU ONLY READ, VOTE, COMMENT AND SHARE. Capisce? Capisce.
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#72
seanopry
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Re-posting. The common story is that finding a mate is supposed to make the wolf stronger. For an alpha, finding his mate, blessed by the moon goddess, strengthens the pack. But there can be such darkness hidden in that dynamic. Even those of cruel hearts can seek the power of a mate. And the damage they cause might not ever be healed. ***** Prologue: Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythm or the water would have been soothing if it hadn't been so cruel. Drip. As it was, it was nothing more than a taunting form of torture. Drip. Ears could hear the soft thudding of raindrops at the end of the hall as a door was pulled open in squeaking protests and then shut with a harsh metallic clang. How the rain made its way into the depths of the cement room, it didn't matter. It was there. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. The footsteps were strong and full of purpose. Though just as unwanted as the drops of water that fell too far out of reach. Unable to quench the dehydrated desperation chained to the wall. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. Only one set of footsteps. There was no question of the destination or purpose that carried them down the hall. Not that it was a surprise. It was always the same. First the pain, then the visit. The cell door opened to darkness. There was no energy to move, not even enough to will eyelids to open. Not that it mattered. The visit never changed. What more could be said? What more could be done? All that mattered was that stale, barely edible food was only given after he was done. Only then, could there be any comfort from hell. ***** WARNING- This story does delve into topics of kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, murder, and violence. Though the scenes are not explicitly detailed, underage readers are discouraged. Also note that I do not own the rights to any photos I have or might post for this story. Just photos I found online, cropped and edited. The story however, is all mine. No copy of content is permitted.

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