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Love at World's End

[World's End: 02:23:59:53] Lauren Whittaker thought she had enough to deal with: a ruthless stepfamily, a neglectful father, and a life of endless work. But when a mysterious countdown virus appears on her phone, ticking toward what seems like the end of the world, things go from bad to apocalyptic. As society crumbles and terrifying monsters emerge, it seems no one is safe. Not even the military can hold back the tide of destruction. Just when Lauren thinks it can't get any worse, a blood-soaked stranger appears before her, speaking a language she doesn't understand. But there's one problem. She's seen him before... in her dreams. Kylar's pack has only one route for survival: to escape their dying world, as prophecy foretold. There's only one problem... Their ancient prophet has passed. In the new world, they enter into unfolding chaos. Monsters pour in from their world and others. It's a fight to survive, but there's hope. This new world is a land of abundant resources. He just needs to find their new prophet, and they can all survive. But when he does, everything's wrong. For one, she isn't Lycan. She's human. And he's inexplicably drawn to her, wanting to claim her for his own. Chaos is unfolding. Bodies line the streets. Lauren's fight for survival becomes a battle against fate itself. What secrets do her dreams hold, and why does this man want to keep her for his own...? -- This book contains: Dark themes, death, smut. (All hail the smut.) -- NOTICE: Mass release November 1!

Lenaleia · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
45 Chs

Lauren: Preparing for the Cold Weather

There's a reason Tom told me to bring Jenny along.

She was once a student here at Lakewood High. It's not a scenario I really considered; the idea that people here once enjoyed normal lives within these walls doesn't feel right now that it's being used as a survival shelter.

The same corridors where we sleep once witnessed normal teenagers going from class to class, living by the rigid schedule of clocks and bells. Lockers held backpacks and textbooks and probably things that had no business being on school grounds.

It's so different now.

I wonder how she feels about it.

"This way." Jenny's flashlight beam cuts through the darkness. "The maintenance office should be down these stairs."

The beam reveals concrete steps descending into a basement level I hadn't known existed. Our footsteps echo against the walls, and the air grows thick with the scent of mildew and rust.