The Chaos Theory

The Chaos Theory

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Mon, Sep 7, 20152h 38m
If everything Nature made was good, we'd all be satisfied wouldn't we? Heh, well Nature decided to throw me into the melting pot. Within the perfect balance of the universe and serenity of all life I showed up. I know I don't belong, I shouldn't be there, and I don't want to be myself. Why is being different so challenging? Why'd Nature have to leave me to survive? I know I might do something great, but all I leave is pain and pandemonium...Maybe I was meant to be here though. Perhaps my life needed to be fulfilled to save others, to bring peace, to unite a broken system...but as far as I know for now, I am madness, a strung theory of calamity, my journey through life is ripe with turmoil. Only theories could grasp the concept of it. I guess that's why I call it The Chaos Theory.
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My name is Wren. I'm exhausted, under-caffeinated, emotionally unstable... and apparently mated to a god, a jealous alpha, and my teacher with arms thicker than my will to live.** I wish I was kidding. But nope. I got dumped at Hollowthorn Academy - a school for the powerful, the broken, and the chronically unwell - and now I have three dangerously hot soulmates fighting over me like I'm the last snack on Earth. And honestly? I kind of want all three. 🖤 **Ashriel** - The god in my head. No, seriously. He lives in my mind, talks in cryptic riddles, and acts like he owns my body. He's terrifying, obsessive, and somehow the only one who makes me feel safe when I'm falling apart. I think he wants to devour me. In multiple ways. 🖤 **Ryan** - The Beast. Alpha shifter. Growls when I look at other guys. Gets jealous of my cereal. Once threatened a chair for getting too close. He's chaos in a hoodie. But when he touches me, I feel like I could stop running. 🖤 **Theron** - My teacher. Yeah. That's going well. He's quiet, massive, and stares like I'm both a threat and his last meal. I know I should be scared. But I feel seen. Protected. Like he could hold all my broken pieces together... and snack on me while he's at it. Meanwhile, I'm stress-eating Honey Nut Cheerios and trying not to scream every time someone says I'm "chosen." There's something inside me. A mark. A power. A darkness. Everyone says I'm special. But I don't feel special. I feel like a haunted gremlin with abandonment issues and way too many men breathing down my neck. Still... maybe I could be more. Maybe I could fight fate, fall in love, and survive the wreckage of who I used to be. Or maybe I'll cry in the girl's bathroom and eat emergency cookies out of my bra. Either way... I'm not going down without snacks.

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