Escaping a God
- Reads 3,409
- Votes 120
- Parts 22
Ongoing3h 27m
Last published Thu, Jan 14, 2016
I live with a Greek god. No, I'm not just saying that he's hot. He's a legitimate god. From Olympus and everything. Well, guess what, so am I. But he doesn't know that, and ever since Apollo told him I had to live with him, he's been abusive, both verbally and physically. He may not be from the underworld, but he makes sure to make my life a living hell. The catch is though, he has no clue who or what I truly am. I must have been sent here for a reason. I'm tired of being holed up here, and I have a plan to get out for good.
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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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