All I am (Completed)

All I am (Completed)

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Thu, Nov 26, 20151h 19m
The balance of the universe is all about the balance of the forces. If one power is stronger than another then the earth would literally turn upside down and everyone and everything would die or cease to exist- that is in theory. I thought it was some hoax to make sure that the on going war between the heavens and the underworld does not end and underworld forces do not win. What if it is true and all I have to do is make everything right and we all go back to our lives? I mean, I have reason to believe that this was a fable and this is my time to prove that I am better than god and all of his creations. Fuck, I am one of his creations.
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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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