With fiery vengeance in her heart, Phoebe ventures on in search for justice. Until she discovers who's responsible for the death of her friend, there is no time to waste. Being an omega and a reject, the last thing Phoebe wants to find is her second chance mate. With Alastor being a delta, Phoebe knows he's nothing but a one way ticket to her second rejection. Will he reject her or will it be the other way around? Author: dendandun Publisher:EasyReading
Shit.
Everything is shit.
I've always questioned the purpose of living; always hated the fact that I'm breathing just to feel pain. To be hurt. As if the main goal of life is to hurt the living, and the only way out is death.
Ironically enough, we all still fight in the face of death. As if when death decided to free you of that burden, you have this last minute urge to live. As if you wanted to be dead all your life, but you can't let yourself be killed anyway.
As if you imagine yourself jumping off a cliff, but when you're on that top of the cliff, you start chickening out and back the fuck out. Then just wait for you to grow old and crusty and let life get tired of you instead.
It's a whole different level of fucked up, if you ask me. Gotta admit I've always been a fuck up, but Dione was a different fuck up.
That fucker should've just hid behind me and let me die in the claws of those rogues. She should've just let me have that honor of being buried deep in the ground. She should've been the one crying and mourning for my death.
She should've been the one continuing her life. She should've...
"Snap out of it," Deimos hit the side of my left thigh with his wooden sword.
My thoughts were cut short as I let my mind be back to reality. I've always been zoning out these days, and Deimos has been noticing that it's been happening quite a lot in the past days. He looks genuinely concerned, even when I try to brush it off.
Why can't he be just a normal gamma with loud mouths and empty brains? Geez.
"Fuck," I hissed, holding the large bruise in my thigh. I've been accumulating a lot of bruises in the past days, but this one is the biggest of them all. And Deimos decided to hit me on that same spot. I glared at him.
He shook his shoulder, "You were at it again."
"You want me amputated?" I snarled at him, and a couple of gammas looked our way to watch what was happening.
"Easy there," Deimos says, "You don't want to challenge me in front of the rest of the gammas."
I wanted to snap and challenge him. But I know he was right. He's been training all his life, and he could probably have easily killed me if he wanted to. Deimos is a sweetheart, but his wolf is still a gamma.
And the higher the rank, the higher the ego. Wolves move based on their instincts, and if I threaten his wolf, its instinct would be to kill me. Especially with all of the gammas around us that he could impress to feed off that male ego.
My bare feet felt the rough wooden floor below me just as I sat on a wooden bench. The barracks was filled with gammas, both men and women, although mostly there are men. The place is crowded, loud, and humid.
It's obviously packed with too much male ego and testosterone, I feel like gagging. Too much authority being held in a closed room is too much for an omega to handle.
Even if I've already spent a week in the barracks together with the gammas, I still don't have it in me to get used to the place. Sometimes I have to get out and breathe. I guess that's why I started zoning out a lot. The only thing that keeps me from vomiting is the memory of Dione getting killed.
It only makes me want this even more. It makes me want to train my body for vengeance.
There is no way I'd let Dione die in vain. There is no fucking way in hell.
Alpha Dionysus is a kind man to let us in his pack. Granted, his and our previous pack were alliances. Well, that was before the rogues decided to burn it down into ashes. But yes, our packs used to be alliances. So I guess that's why they took us in.
Gamma Deimos, Beta Zeus, Alpha Kratos, Delta Solomon, Gamma Zelos, Persephone, and I were the only ones left from our pack. It's not that hard to take us in, since we don't take up that much space.
In addition to that, they're high ranking wolves. Why would Alpha Dionysus let them go to waste when he can use them for his advantage?
But of course, as an omega, he didn't like the fact of letting me stay as another 'cook'. He challenged me that if I want to stay in his pack, I have to live. And the only way to live, is to kill. And the only way to kill is to be a pack warrior.
And with all my pent up anger over Dione's death, I knew I needed the training more than me cooking. I didn't even have to think twice. I joined the pack gamma training and swore my loyalty in this new pack by serving them in the war with the rest of its warriors.
Deimos was concerned, thinking that I couldn't handle it. And he was right. For the first three days, I feel like dying but still breathing. Gammas challenge me not because they want to train me, but just because they wanted a live punching bag for themselves.
The only reason these gammas haven't killed me yet is because of Deimos and Zelos. These fuckers seemed to have small penises around them. They all act mighty and shit around me, an omega. But you can see them tuck their tails around those two.
And believe me, I've been smelling nothing but inflated male ego whenever I'm with those two.
With me spending a lot of time with Deimos, and sometimes training with Zelos, killing me was never these gammas' option. Because that would anger Deimos and that's the last thing they want to happen. So they torture me instead.
Pfft, as if I haven't been tortured as an omega enough.
But just because Deimos is my friend doesn't mean I have everything on a silver platter. He trains me the way a gamma should be trained. I don't get a free pass on punishments just because I'm his friend. He's strict to me the way he's strict to everyone else.
And I think that's awesome.
With every bruise I got from him felt like every medal a child could ever receive in school.
I know I'm not the best out there, considering that my strength is still that of an omega. But I know I'm getting stronger. My wolf is getting stronger. I can see it. I can feel it.
But I still have a long way to go.
"Phoebe," Deimos called me as he hit my left arm with his wooden sword, but this time, harsher than the first time, "Snap out of it."
I looked at him, and his face was stoic. He makes that face whenever we're in training. It's as if he doesn't have any emotions when we're in the barracks. But that's the basic rule: you don't need emotions when killing people. Emotions only complicate things.
I looked up at him, and he hit me on my right arm, "Snap," then he hit me on my left thigh, "out," he hit me on my left cheek, "of," then finally hit me on my right cheek, "it."
He hit me so fast, I didn't have the time to fully understand what he was doing. That was until seconds later, when I felt my cheeks bleed. I tasted blood in my mouth, and I spit it out on the floor.
I looked up at him, glaring. I can feel my wolf's anger as she wanted to have control over my body. She wanted to hurt Deimos. Kill him, if possible. Snarling, I stood up and was about to shift.
My wolf has always been like this since I spent a lot of time with the gammas. My wolf is easily angered. As if she always wants to kill someone. It doesn't matter who, but she's ready to kill.
That's what's on her mind when my eyes turned black and my canines started showing. I even started growling in anger, making more gammas turn to look and watch. Some even smirked at our direction, knowing that I would be dead meat if I challenged Deimos.
But then he hit my left cheek again, "Shift, and I'll break your neck," he says in a low threatening voice. The same voice he uses to claim authority over anyone.
And I was scared. My wolf was scared. But she's still angry, and she felt the need to hurt Deimos back because he hurt us. She was too hungry for revenge; her logic is out the window.
So I didn't fully shift. But I didn't fully go back to being human either. With only my elongated claws, I motioned to claw Deimos' face out of pure wolf anger. But before I could do that, he caught my hand and twisted it in a way that had me wincing in pain.
My claws retracted, and my wolf was practically whimpering at the back of my mind. Fuck.
There were no other words in my mind but: fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Good. You're angry," Deimos says in a monotone voice, "First step to a successful kill is extreme anger."
He lets go of me before he pushed me hard enough for me to fall flat on the floor. My body had enough bruises to endure, and I think my arm is getting a new one. I groaned in pain as I struggled to keep myself up.
I didn't realize the barracks was silent until I looked up to see every gamma looking down at me. Some looked emotionless, and some were smirking. At least someone seemed to like this situation. Glad to know.
"Next step to a successful kill," Deimos continued talking, his voice booming over the silence that surrounds us, "is to be alive."
As an omega with an alpha as her soulmate, Dione already mentally prepared herself of Kratos' inevitable rejection. Being rejected and replaced all in the same day soon made her an unbeliever of love. When all hope is lost for Dione, she then meets Atlas, who is yet another rejected omega with anger management issues. Finding out he's her second chance mate, will Dione believe in love again? Author: dendandun Publisher:EasyReading
He was stone cold, with an icy stare that could freeze my whole world. But then, he melted. Author: dendandun Publisher:EasyReading
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
Belinda thought after divorce, they would part ways for good - he could live his life on his own terms, while she could indulge in the rest of hers. However, fate had other plans in store. "My darling, I was wrong. Would you please come back to me?" The man, whom she once loved deeply, lowered his once proud head humbly. "I beg you to return to me." Belinda coldly pushed away the bouquet of flowers he had offered her and coolly replied, "It's too late. The bridge has been burned, and the ashes have long since scattered to the wind!"
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
6 years ago, Lydia suffered a brutal betrayal orchestrated by her own husband and step-sister, who drugged her and framed her. In a twist of fate, she ended up having a one-night stand with a stranger. Don't even remember what he looked like. Later, in the throes of death, she discovered the truth about her mother's death all those years ago. In the blink of an eye, she lost everything. 6 years later, Lydia returned with her genius son, vowing to exact revenge on all her enemies! Little did she know, she encountered an incredibly familiar man at the airport! *** The man was briskly pushing open the door to the restroom, heading to the urinal. Even with such a mundane action, he did it with unparalleled elegance and grace. Lydia, following him in a daze, saw his fierce lower body and suddenly snapped back to reality. She let out a high-pitched scream, instinctively covering her eyes with her hands, her cheeks flushed, and stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do. Lambert furrowed his brows slightly but remained calm as he continued to relieve himself. The sound of water hitting the urinal made Lydia's face even redder. She angrily shouted, "You pervert!" Little did Lydia know that Lambert, seeing her in this state, had a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Memories from many years ago flashed through his mind, and his heart couldn't help but stir. It was her!
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."