Unable to Die
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The metalic knife cut into my unprotected skin, the precious silver blood of a werewulf spilled onto the urine and bile covered floor. Sobs racked my body, but no matter what they did to me I would never morph into my true wolf form, never allow them to take away what makes me special.
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Fading Scars.
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The Vampire's Mate
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The Life Of Angel Grace
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Everything was gone. I sobbed, my clothes ripped and I was bleeding, but it didn't matter. I had to get to her, to them. Had to find- Struggling to stand, I grasped my side, biting back the scream that wanted to escape. I looked down at my hands and red coated them, blurring together until I couldn't see anything anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my panicked breathing to slow, until I felt in control of myself again. It had been so long, I thought as I turned my peeling and dry face to the sun, my fingers shaking as I struggled to make sense of them. For so long, I'd been a wolf, cursed. All that I was, or could've been had been reduced to nothing but an animal driven by instinct, bloodlust, thousands of lives met their ends at the edges of my razor sharp claws. I had no idea where I was, how much time had passed. My fingers touched something hard in the sand, and a jolt of information went through me as Queen Azalea's sword, gleamed as I pulled it free. My heart started to pound as sun glinted off of the blade, reflecting back at me. I nearly dropped the metal when I saw myself. I took a second look and saw white hair, caked with dirt, and yellow eyes, blue veins sparking in their depths. All at once, I remembered who I was. I remembered why I was here, how much time had passed. I am Azalea Marie Albescu, The Queen Alpha. A false queen sits on my throne, controls what's mine. I would have to make my way back to my pack, my family, and my home, if still there. I would rise again, as I had before, and reclaim what belongs to me. DISCLAIMER: AS WITH MANY OF MY STORIES, I DO IMPLICATE SITUATIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/ABUSE. Not in any way do I intend to glamorize this behavior, I write about these delicate and painful situations because I myself relate to them and will always fight for survivors, including myself. Thank you for your understanding and if you are in any way uncomfortable reading these stories, I encourage you to look elsewhere.
Powerful But Broken
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Children of the Fallen: Bloodlines (BOOK #3)
" I scrub and scrub trying to make it go away. I'd happily go back to walking around internally dead than whatever this is. Watching the crimson substance go down the drain and off my skin- out of sight, out of mind, except it's not going away. I hated that pain was temporary but this... this pain I don't want it. I don't want to feel this. Tears begin to well in my eyes making my vision blurry. Weak. Anger surges in my veins and impulsively my fist connects with a tile on the wall of the shower shattering it. This is emotional. I don't do that. I don't do this- I don't cry in the shower. I don't let my emotions dictate my actions I haven't in a long time. It's stupid. It's childish. It's weak. I glance down at my knuckles on my right hand, watching the tiny cuts heal. Shouting, I punch the tile over and over and over again until blood runs down my arm and drips onto the shower floor. I reach my severely broken hand out under the water, momentarily stinging as water hits the open wounds which unfortunately close over seconds later. I crack whatever bones need it, back into place and look around me. The back wall of the shower is destroyed, shards of tile and blood scattered on the floor. As I stand under the scalding hot stream staring into nothing my mind falls silent for a split second. A few seconds of solace until everything comes crashing back. The tightness in my chest and my stomach, the cloudiness in my brain, the anger, the sadness. It all comes back. I sit down away from the shattered pieces of tile, curling my legs up and letting the near boiling water hit my back. There was a feeling of relief in losing everything I was. Whatever it is that has clawed it's way to the surface, I want it gone. I want that relief back. "Lengkap
''What are you doing?'' He asked. ''Why didn't you tell me?'' I wasn't able to speak. I didn't tell him about it.. I didn't want to tell him that I cut. But he caught me. '' I-I'm sorry...'' I cried. He took my blade, and slit his wrist. ''Josh, what are you doing?'' I screamed. ''It hurts to see someone doing it, uh?'' another cut. ''Stop please!'' I was crying and screaming, I didn't know what to do. He threw the blade on the floor and got out of the bathroom.
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