Wrongfully Claimed [ MxM ]
  • Reads 2,131
  • Votes 152
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 26m
  • Reads 2,131
  • Votes 152
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 26m
Ongoing, First published Jul 30, 2023
Mature
APOLLO

I remember the very moment that my life changed for the worse.

I'd just turned 23. It was the night of my coronation. I'd just challenged my father for the title of Alpha of the Blood River pack.

It was the night that I felt someone force their mark onto my Goddess given mate. Someone had wrongfully claimed the man that was bound to my soul.

That was nine years ago.

And I haven't stopped looking for him since. . . No matter how long it took, no matter what I had to do, I would find him and bring him home.

I would find him, set him free and claim the soul that's rightfully mine.

It started with my story, my heartache, my pain. . . But when Lorenzo and I head to a neighboring pack for a two week visit, it seems like our story intertwines with not only King Sloane, but our friends, Alpha Kairos and Alpha Cruze too.

Had everyone's mate been wrongfully claimed? Or is there something more. . . shocking. . . going on here?

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Slide 1 of 10
Shattered (Complete) #Wattys2019 cover
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Shattered (Complete) #Wattys2019

38 parts Complete Mature

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.