LOGINSurviving as a lone wolf was difficult especially when you have so many enemies chasing after you. Clara left her pack at a young age and found shelter in a small city. It was not long enough till the wolves found her and captured her. She was thrown at the feet of the mighty Alpha and was forced into submission
View MoreOnce again while sitting in class I could see that everyone was looking at the bruises on my arms. I tried to hide them, but Carl hasn't exactly been making it easy for me to hide them like he did in the beginning. I don't believe that I could still call him my stepdad because of what he was doing to me. He isn't worth the word dad at all anymore.
He had been beating me since I turned six. I can't remember much from before and the only thing that is still really vivid is the day mum told me that dad had died sometime after my birth. I can't even remember how he looks like anymore. Mum and Carl threw away or hid all the pictures or something because there isn't any around the house. I wouldn't dare ask about one again as that didn't go well with Carl.
The only thing that I have that is remotely linked to dad is the dear John letter that was sent to mum when dad had went missing from his platoon and was assumed dead when he didn't show up in the following three days and was nowhere to be found.
Mum met Carl when I was age two just after dad was gone apparently. They got married when I was age four. I remember because they made sure to buy me a little cute dress and made me up like a pretty doll. This was well before he had turned on me. We used to be the perfect family and go out on family trips and ice-cream trips. This all ended when I turned six. This is when he started beating me in private but berating me in public whenever my mum was not around.
He hasn't stopped. I'm currently seventeen, turning eighteen in three months. I can't wait because then I can go away from them, and they won't have a foot to stand on when they try and get me back like last time. I don't care if I have to live on the streets until I'm on my feet as long as I just got away from him.
After school I got home and went straight to my room to try and avoid him. Unfortunately I didn't have a lock in my door anymore because I had used it once. Carl removed it afterwards and I had to spend a week in ICU which earned me just more punishments as I had cost them "additional money".
I could only close the door for a little freedom at this point. I had just started getting my books out of my backpack to try and do my homework as soon as possible, before I might not be able to do it later, when I heard footsteps approaching my room. Footsteps could and would most probably mean Carl and more hurt coming my way.
Hiding away doesn't help and only makes it worse because then he would just be more mad having had his anger fuelled and that would mean just a harsher and longer beating. I stayed after school once wanting to just finish a project due in the library and forgot to let them know. When I got home all hell had broken out and I remember that I couldn't sit down for the first two weeks after this. He had tested out his new golf set.
Luckily the footsteps moved past my door so I knew that I was safe for at least the time being and that I could quickly try and get this homework done. Might not be able to hand it in on time but at least I would have it done and get it in sometime for at least some marks and credits.
I always wonder whether mum knows and just looks past it so she doesn't get the same treatment or if she really doesn't know and is not observant enough to see me struggling to walk, sit or whatever after a beating.
She never asked about what had happened so either she knew and did nothing in regard to it or Carl had told her a fable of a story of what had happened to me. At least in this way I didn't have to think of any excuses anymore because I honestly don't have any more after having used all the obvious ones at school and with Kyle. I doubt they are needed with Kyle as he sort of figured everything out on his own accord.
It was him and his parents that helped me escape the first time and helped me get out of the house. I was grateful even though it had ended up not working and only making Carl even more mad than he was before. They feel bad but whenever I am with them, I tell them that they couldn't have known and now we know and we won't try it again until he has no legal foot to stand on.
They really have been nothing but good to me. He sneaks me some food whenever Carl has me on an eating strike and makes sure that whenever his clothes are too small that they are passed to me so at least I have somethings to wear because if it was up to Carl, I wouldn't have anything.
It was a lot later that evening when I heard more footsteps coming to my room again. I was already bathed and dressed ready for bed and contemplated "being asleep" but decided against that and went to open the door.
I opened and there stood mum full blown in tears clutching what looked to be a letter and an envelope in her hands. She was in such a state where she couldn't even tell me what the matter was so I took the letter from her hand and started reading the words that had made her so upset that she couldn't even tell me what was going on.
Dear Rose
I have been held captive by enemy forces. My fellow troops have rescued me, and I have been recuperating in the army hospital. I'm coming home soon. I can't wait to see you and our little girl. I know that this may come as a shock to you as you would have gotten a dear john but please I am not dead, and I am returning to you both as soon as possible.
Love
Your Jacob
Jacob? But that was dad's name.
Peace didn’t arrive with a roar. It came quietly—like the slow steady healing of a scar—until one day the pack woke up and realized the fear that once clung to their bones had loosened its grip and vanished. The once-shattered stronghold of the pack now breathed with life again. Homes rebuilt with fresh timber. Fields replanted. Wolves who once slept lightly with one ear open now laughed without looking over their shoulders. Clara watched it all unfold from the balcony of the Alpha residence—a home that used to feel too large, too cold. Now, sunlight poured in through windows and the scent of cooked meals filled its halls. The house was filled with giggles, tiny footsteps, miniature chaos. Her daughter—Lyra—ran through the garden below, chasing a butterfly that glowed like moonlight condensed into wings. She squealed as it evaded her, then suddenly, the butterfly paused mid-air… almost like the air itself listened to the child’s delight. Magic. Her magic. Awakening quietly, bea
It started small. A flicker of breath against the air. A pulse that did not belong to ordinary blood. The first time Clara noticed it again was during a quiet afternoon nap. Her daughter lay in the cradle, small fingers twitching as if she was dreaming of running through fields she hadn’t yet seen. Clara sat beside her, humming a lullaby the way her mother once had. Then the room changed. The curtains fluttered… though the windows were closed. The shadows stretched… though the light was still. The air shimmered… like the moonlight was pouring itself inside the walls. Clara’s humming faded as her eyes widened. Her daughter’s eyes opened—bright as polished silver. Too bright. For a heartbeat, the baby stared up at Clara with a clarity that didn’t belong to a newborn. Like she was seeing her… truly seeing her. Then, just as suddenly, the silver dimmed back into soft gray-blue. The shimmer faded. The air stilled. The baby yawned. Clara’s heart pounded. She leaned closer an
The world had gone quiet again, but not in the way it once did after war. This quiet was softer. Livelier. Full of heartbeats and newborn laughter. The packhouse, once echoing with orders and battle cries, now smelled like milk, smoke from the rebuilt kitchens, and blooming moonflowers. Wolves passed through the corridors carrying planks, fabrics, and baskets instead of weapons. The sound of hammers had replaced growls. The sound of life returning. Inside the Alpha’s home, Clara sat by the open window, her daughter nestled against her chest. The child was impossibly small, wrapped in white cloth, sleeping to the rhythm of her mother’s heartbeat. Martin watched from the doorway, his usually commanding frame leaning against the wood, quieter now—almost reverent. “She looks like you when you’re pretending to be mad at me,” he said softly. Clara smiled without looking up. “Then you should be afraid already.” He chuckled and crossed the room, crouching beside her chair. His hand brus
The days began to stretch longer. Peace had a strange rhythm — slower, quieter, but never empty. For Clara, it took time to get used to. No midnight raids. No whispers of enemies in the woods. Just sunlight filtering through the trees, the scent of warm bread, and the small sound of Lyra’s laughter echoing through the den. At first, she thought she’d go mad with the stillness. Then she started to breathe again. Martin had changed too. He no longer rose before dawn to inspect the borders; he woke beside her now — sometimes with his face buried against her neck, his breath steady, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist. He still carried the weight of leadership in every movement, but the sharpness that once defined him had softened. One morning, Clara found him outside, shirt sleeves rolled up, repairing a section of the fence that had long since been forgotten. “You could’ve asked for help,” she said, leaning against the doorway, a teasing smile on her lips. “I did,”
The council house was rebuilt first — not because it was grand, but because it stood at the heart of the territory. Once, it had been the Alpha’s hall — a place of commands and judgments. Now, its doors were thrown open from dawn till dusk. Wolves came not to kneel, but to speak. Martin had insis
The everlasting ache in my body didn't perish after a good night's sleep. I woke up with my insides throbbing and soreness roughly around my stomach. I turned in a different direction and smiled while my eyes were still shut. It was great--the sex was mind-blowing and lovely. There was a little regr
Mr. Jameson was surprised. The color from his face vanished away as his eyes sniped at me. My pulse started to beat rapidly. My bones were in immense pain with the forceful transformation. I never knew the others had something like that. Whatever the man injected inside me was fucking my body up.War
"Wakey, wakey, bitch."I sat up straight and stretched, a soft groan escaped my lips as I came face to face with John- clearly, he had nothing in his life except to taunt and torture me. Nothing would be coming out of his mouth when I'd snap his neck and watch him bleed to death.John was young, trimm












Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
reviewsMore