War of the beasts
- Reads 719
- Votes 49
- Parts 13
Ongoing1h 38m
Last published Mon, May 9, 2016
Okay, how do I begin?
I'm Sasha Henry, weird name right? Apparentely it's decendant from Belgium. But that's not the point.
The point is that my parents lied to me for 17 years and now ship me off to Maine.
Just because they're the fucking Lords of the werewolves! I know, it's also hard for me to understand. I'm a werewolf!
Luckily my best friend Lukas is here to protect me.
The only person I deeply love.
But why is this Alpha called Ryan suddenly envading my thoughts? It's not because we are mates that we HAVE to be together... Right?!
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#516
underworld
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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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WHY ALPHA
Just wanted to be a normal teenager wolf but hell nah the Moon Goddess just had to shit on me and fuck up my whole life just to find a damn mate and I am a rare wolf THAT CAN NEVER DIE I had three, THREE FUCKING REJECTION and then I found ANOTHER DAMN MATE THE FUCK I told him he can't handle me but hell nah he still wants me oh one more thing I AM A FUCKING QUEEN OF WEREWOLF, VAMPIRE, WITCH/WARLOCK, FALLEN ANGEL, MERMAID, DEMON SO THAT MEAN I AM A HYBRID BUT I GOT SEPERATED FROM MY PARENTS AT BIRTH AND I HAVE A SISTER THAT WENT THROUGH THE SAME PROBLEM BUT SHE DIDN'T HAVE FOUR MATES SHE GOT ABUSE WANT TO READ HOW CRAZY THIS SHIT IS THEN READ THIS STORY WHY ALPHAComplete
At last | Editing
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My Hybrid Troubles
*This is Purely fantasy* I'm Rose. I am 50% witch, about 25% vampire and about 25% she-wolf (Werewolf). My father IS half warlock and half vampire. My mother WAS half witch and half she-wolf (werewolf). I had two older siblings but they passed away on their sixteenth birthdays. One of them was my brother, I never really knew him, I was in our mother's womb at the time. He died after he shifted his first time because he was never told about his genes and what they meant (he died from shock). The other one was my sister, I kind of got to know her, but when she passed I was only 6. She also died after her first shift, but not because she was clueless. She had been told TOO much about her genes and what they meant. When she shifted, she tried to stop it because she was scared of her wolf. After my sister passed so did my mother, she was severely depressed and couldn't take the thought of me leaving her too early. Before she died, she told my father everything about herself and her werewolf roots. She only survived until my dad knew everything, it seemed like that was all that mattered, like she knew she was going to die. I have been taught the ways of my ancestors, werewolf, vampire and witch, slowly so I can absorb it all properly. ------------------------- This story is about me, a young girl, with a lot of issues. I always am treated like trash by my rude human stepmother. Around my father, she's completely innocent but when he isn't, hell just about breaks loose. When I turn sixteen I will leave my father and house to move in with either the vampire lord or the werewolf's alpha. What happens when I have two possible mates? What happens when one person I really thought I could trust hurts me almost beyond repair? And what happens to hybrids that seek a second chance? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ WARNINGS: There is swearing, abuse, mature sections, etc.Complete
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The Boy Who Loved The Werewolf
First off, it's all those damn witches fault. I knew I shouldn't have killed their mother, but its not like I had a choice! It is-or was-my job to slay, back in 1692. Yea, that long ago. But we were living in a primitive world and the word "witch" got to anyone's ears, and all hell would break loose. Those damn women, three girls all of the marrying age at the time, their mother was accused of witchcraft. It was my job to dispose of the witches. I was the executioner after all, but I was supposed to do it as if it were an accident. The night I went after the girls mother, they were home and watched me do it. Crying, sobbing, screaming at me to stop. But I couldn't, I wasn't allowed. At the end I felt something happening to me, I was getting dizzy and everything was hazy. I heard the three girls speaking-no, cursing me in unison. "You have slain our mother, an innocent women. She had not been dabbling in witchery, she only kept our secret. For having killed our mother, we curse you and your family to roam the world as immortals. Never growing old after the age of twenty one and turning into the beasts you are at the age sixteen. Every night when the moon rises, you and your family shall turn into giant beasts. Beasts bigger than bears but in the body of a wolf. Each night you will kill and you must live with the guilt of the murders you are capable of. Are you satisfied with the blood you've shed tonight?!" Those words are burned into my skull, never leaving. The witches were hanged a few days later, on the night of a full moon. That's when my curse began. Present day, it's easier to hide nowadays from the community. Nobody is looking for me, trying to hunt me down and kill me. At least, not that I know of. But anyways, my name is Fiona Mansfield. I was only seventeen years old when I was an executioner in the Salem Witch Trials. Three witches cast a spell on my family and me, that was 322 years ago. I am 339 now and my family and I are werewolves.Complete
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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