**This is a sample of the actual story. If you guys want me to upload more of this narrative then please comment/vote/add this to your library to let me know that you like it!!
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"You are so...so..." She was screaming, her nostrils flaring in anger, but at the same time fumbling for the right words to express her enraged state. Her hand flailed about in front of her to distract from her remaining arm which was clamped across the gaping wound in her side. She concluded, a slight helplessness written across her face. "Dead!"
A smirk quirked at the corner of my lips. I lowered my gaze to my shadowy figure, allowing the crowd to follow my gaze. I then spun around on the spot, my hands gesturing to the fiery depths of the underworld in which we stood.
"I know right."
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It is official: I, Carrington Meyers, am not on form. Firstly, my mother gifted me with such a heinous name that generations into the future kids still would be laughing about their great, great, great, great, great aunt Carrington (aunt because, lets face it, with a name like this who is going want to have children with me). Secondly, the gods seemed to think it was appropriate to bestow a mutilating psychological disease upon my my young, pure head, which seems a bit unfair given the circumstances of it only appearing after my parents' tragic deaths. And thirdly... well there is no massive problem but come on I'm a teenager so there's bound to be something.
So I guess that brings us up to present when, due to my newly-found erratic behavior and frankly disturbing hallucinations, my adoptive parents deemed it fit to check me into Lakewood Manor: Home for the Mentally Challenged AKA the nearest psychiatric ward they could find. Which was a low blow, even for them.
That's not the weirdest part though because, for some odd reason, whenever I fall asleep I seem to die. And it seems the underworld isn't going to let me go without a fight.
"Goddess, you're so perfect." he breathed the words, staring up at her as she moved rhythmically up and down above him, her breasts bouncing as he gripped her hips, trying to hold back the wave that he felt building inside of him. She just looked and felt so fucking good.
"Do female wolves mark their mates?" She leaned forward as she asked the question in a low voice, sliding her arms along his chest as she shifted her position, moving her legs close together so that he was even tighter inside of her as his hands came down to grip her ass, thrusting into her from below.
"Yes." he was barely able to gasp out the word. "Not in my pack. But in many- most even- other packs."
"Why not yours?" He felt her mouth slip forward, her tongue teasing the same place he had marked on her body half an hour earlier.
"The men in our pack just haven't allowed it. It's a sign of claiming and-" her teeth grazed the spot lightly, not hard enough to break the skin, but he felt a mixture of pleasure and pain shoot through his body and he drew in a sharp breath, his head tilting back automatically as he offered her better access to the spot.
"It shows that you belong to your mate. Doesn't it? Like I belong to you?"
"Yes." He murmured, gripping her more tightly, so close to the edge he knew he'd lose control at any moment. He only hoped he could bring her to the peak of pleasure again first. He'd thought she was close. "Nova." He knew his voice sounded desperate.
"Can I mark you, Alpha?"
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When Nova stumbles into pack lands and is captured by the Blazing Moon pack she knows that she has to escape. She makes a daring escape only to be tracked down by their Alpha. But their meeting isn't at all what either or them expected. Can he convince her to stay? Or will a petite female rogue be the one to bring down one of the fiercest Alpha's on the continent?
⚠️THIS STORY HAS EXPLICIT SCENES AND MATURE CONTENT. IT IS NOT ADVISED FOR THOSE YOUNGER THAN 18