Dark Abyss...

Dark Abyss...

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jun 8, 2026
It only took one look at her to know demons haunted her. Her eyes showed the pain she has endured and her body reflected the cruel way life had reduced her to a broken shell. ... "What group of rogues are they?" he asked as he raked his eyes over us. "Most were born rouges, others were chased out of their packs for minor crimes. They won't be a problem." The beta said, aiming the last part at us. Nobody would be foolish enough to cause trouble within the king's palace. It was a death wish. The alpha began from the other side of the line where the strongest stood. I could hear positions being given to the wolves by the male as he crossed the line. His rough voice put me on edge. I shut my eyes in fright as I felt him stand in front of my trembling body. I was the last to be judged; I was the weakest link. The sound of his growls almost brought me to my knees. Tears ran down my cheeks as I held back a sob. Why do I always have to cry, why am I weak? "Mine."
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#49
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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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