Call Of Freedom

Call Of Freedom

  • WpView
    Reads 3,711
  • WpVote
    Votes 59
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 12m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jul 24, 2020
Rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about the boiling anger that threatens to kill you like a fever. I can ignore it and let it destory me - slowly, painfully- while I live the life of a thousand imprisoned men. I can even wear the mask of happiness they give with one hand while removing lives with the other. But I refuse to do any of that. From now one, I fight. I protest. I demand. From now on, I am free.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Chaos
  • Blood Roots - Bound to the Bayou
  • Galekin
  • Avarice Blacksteel Book 2
  • 𝗛𝗮𝗹𝗮𝘁: 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲
  • 𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆
  • Behind every mean girl...there's a tragedy
  • Dil Hi Toh Hai ( Completed)
  • BROKEN COURAGE (Lucas & Emilia Book 3)
  • Forever
Chaos

Book#2 Can be read as a standalone, but I recommend to read Havoc first. I was raised by a man who taught me how to survive, not how to feel. In a freezing house in rural Estonia, I learned to stay quiet. To stay hard. To take a hit and never cry. I knew what punishment felt like before I knew what safety was. My mother did nothing. My father was a monster. I was born to run. To survive. To keep my sister breathing and my demons quiet. But they were never quiet. Always lurking, whispering.. All I had was my sister. She was my family. She was my rock. And when my sister changed her course and moved to New York, I didn't even hesitate to leave it all behind. All I had were my determination, fists and a promise to protect her. I never meant to become a fighter. I wasn't chasing glory. I was chasing silence. Control. A run from my chaos. But the past never stays buried, and the rage never stops burning. I don't believe in love. Not because I'm edgy or broken or any of that poetic bullshit. I just know what it really looks like- fists, silence, slammed doors. Blood on tiles and bruised bodys. Then came Belle Rivera. She's all fire and venom, smart mouth and sharp heels. She saw straight through me from day one and never looked away. She broke every rule I lived by. Saw every part of me I tried to hide. I didn't fall in love. I crashed into it. Now the only thing more dangerous than the fights I take is what I'd do to protect her. This is who I am now. Not a survivor. A weapon. I've already bled for survival. Now I'll bleed for love.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines