Story cover for Silverwoods by jazgrey
Silverwoods
jazgrey
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    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 15m
  • WpView
    Reads 439
  • WpVote
    Votes 36
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 15m
jazgrey
Ongoing, First published Sep 26, 2013
academycrazydreamfairytalemagicmonstersromancesecretvampirewerewolf
As children, we're taught to believe or not to believe in certain things. When we're young, we don't  always listen  to those who try to deter our minds from believing in the things we think are real. To children, fairies, witches, vampires, monsters, they're all very real. It takes years for the influence of adults to sink in,  for us to believe that these are only the dreams of a child. As we get older we realize that we should only believe in the things we can see. If there is no proof, then it is merely a figment of one's imagination       However, things aren't always as they seem.
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academycrazydreamfairytalemagicmonstersromancesecretvampirewerewolf
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8 parts

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Slide 1 of 8
The Claimed cover
My Ride With The Devil cover
Bloodline: The Daughter Of the Moon cover
BEHIND THE SMILE cover
Wolf Girl (Excerpt) cover
Daughters of Hecate: Impure Blood. cover
His Secrets And Lies (Bwwm) cover
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The Claimed

67 parts Ongoing Mature

They said the Hunt was sacred. That if I was chosen, it meant fate. But fate didn't feel like a mouth on my skin or claws at my back. It felt like blood. Mine. For years, I stayed hidden. Quiet. Unclaimed. I stole seeds from the state fields, grew food in secret, fed my family from soil and silence. I did everything right - stayed beneath their radar, beneath their noses. I didn't make waves. I didn't ask for more. But monsters never forget a scent. And when the Hunt came, I was scented. Tracked. Taken. I stabbed him. I buried the blade in his shoulder and watched him bleed. It didn't matter. Because he still bit me. And the world saw. Now my face is on every screen. The girl who didn't run. The girl who fought back. Some call me a rebel. Some call me a mate. But they all forget one thing. I wasn't made to be claimed. I was made to survive. And if they want to collar me, cage me, crown me - they'll have to reckon with everything I've kept buried beneath the roots. Because I am not the flower. I'm the fire beneath it. Rewrite version of formerly known book Escaping the monsters Embrace

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