webnovel

Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted

Being the pack defect is bad enough. Getting REJECTED? By your own fated mate? Yeah. THAT is a whole new level of low. Ava Grey is the pack defect, a wolfless shifter. She struggles through life with the vague dream of freedom. Her opportunity comes when she's suddenly informed that she will be attending the Lunar Gala, an annual ball for young adult shifters to find their fated mates. And she finds him. He's beautiful and intense, and his kisses send desire through her veins like a drug. Until he REJECTS her. Ava isn't about to go back to her dreary life. She escapes and forges a new identity far from her pack, and far from her alpha mate. She makes new friends and is even forcefully adopted by a hilarious husky. But just as she settles in and finds happiness, strange things begin to happen... Her husky has been holding secrets. She's hearing whispers that shifter packs all over are looking for her. And she can smell a familiar scent in her apartment, which makes no sense at all... because the man it belongs to rejected her. DECEMBER 2024 NOTE-- Author has a broken hand and updates are slower than normal. Deepest apologies. Trying to get updates more normalized again!! --------- This is a wolf shifter romance with multiple triggers that like to waltz hand in hand with all the dark themes through a meadow of dead flowers. In this book you will find the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Laugh, cry, rage; you can do them all as you follow Ava in the rather perilous journey of being a wolf shifter in this generation of werewolf romance. There are R18 scenes sprinkled throughout this book like candy popping out of a pinata. Please read responsibly. ------- AUTHOR DISCORD: https://discord.com/invite/ApNZDux8kj

Lenaleia · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
401 Chs

Lisa: Enthralled (I)

LISA

When moonlight fades and the sun rises, I can see my cell with more clarity.

Rust clings to my wrists and ankles, the metal biting into my skin with every trembling movement. Chains rattle against stone, a sound that mocks my rising panic. No matter how I strain and yank, they hold fast, ignoring the blood that streams down my arms when my skin breaks under the pressure.

This cell, this prison, is a nightmare made manifest. Cold, damp air seeps into my bones, and the stench of decay fills my nostrils. No comfort of a bed greets me, only the unforgiving hardness of the floor beneath my body.

A single, rotting bucket sits in the far corner, a cruel taunt of basic needs denied.