All Chapters of Torn between the Alpha and the CEO: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

 *Therian*  I am howling out my pain, raking my fingers through my hair and down over my chest in despair, trying to contain the immense pain.    My mate has been taken from me and the wolf inside me is going insane with grief, wanting to break out and run amok… He, well me too, to be honest, wants to kill her Alpha for selling her … and we want to find that nasty Mr Evill and rip him to shreds... we want to save my mate.    “I am sorry son,  I tried my best, I really did”. My father looks upset. “Maybe ... someone else will come along ... another mate, a second chance mate”.    “No.. “. I growl, as I whip around to face him. “She is mine ... I do not care that he bought her. I need to go get her, save her and bring her back”.    My father shakes his head in despair. “You can’t just do that son ... not only would it give us problems with her pack, and the ot

 *Catwulf*  I breathe in deeply, the room has a faint scent of the forest after a rainstorm and logs burning on the fire, with a hint of something spicy I can’t fully place. The scent wrapping itself around me, invading my senses.  My eyes blink open and I try to remember where I am, and what happened. My head is kinda feeling like it is filled with cotton candy.  Then a deep warm voice sounds. “Good morning my love”.  “Oh ... morning”. I look up at him, and it all comes flooding back, the action, my handsome mate, Being bought by Mr. Evill, him trying too … Oh God..  I am biting my lip, and returning my focus to my mate. He is only wearing jeans, his broad bulging chest with the cover of dark hair bare ... he looks sexy and masculine, a real Alpha. And he is the source of the delicious smell.  H

  2 weeks later *Cathwulf* I am sitting in the room, our room, me and my mate, Therian’s room. I had thought this would be where I found true happiness, having a mate, being his … instead all I have found is loneliness and pain.  Not that he hurts me, not physically at least. Mostly he ignores me, the few times I see him. He is taking his job as Alpha very seriously it seems.  He has someone bring me food three times a day, and I have gotten new clothes too. Once a day a stern looking woman comes and takes m

Three Months Later*Cathwulf* The menu at Joe’s Diner switches to lunch at ten in the morning, but we keep breakfast on the grill for those few souls who still crave pancakes and eggs at noon. It's a quirky little place, and I love it. The breakfast crowd is long gone, leaving behind a faint aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon. I’ve cleaned all the booths and straightened the counter, so I wander to the glass front door and peer out onto the street, half-heartedly searching for something or someone. In the beginning, I looked for a savior, a glimmer of hope, but now it’s just a habit… a ritual of sorts. I’ve shed my old life, living as an unassuming human named Sarah Smith. I even adopted a southern drawl that feels oddly comfortable on my tongue. It’s a strange freedom, this new existence, where no one knows I’m special and no one wants to buy or breed me like some exotic creature. The werewolf life is a distant memory, buried under layers of mundane routines, so far removed that

*Catwulf* I freeze, caught in a web of tension as my old boss, Mr. Torn Eviil, barges into the room. His presence is commanding, a stark contrast to the predatory calm of the man from the diner. I can hardly process the situation as he strides forward, his eyes flicking between me and the stranger who has invaded my sanctuary. “Let her go,” Mr. Eviil demands, his voice low and dangerous. The authority in his tone sends a jolt of unease rippling through the air. The man from the diner releases my arm, but his gaze remains locked on Mr. Eviil, sizing him up. “You don’t understand,” he says, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “She needs to come with me. Therian, her mate, is looking for her.” I’m still reeling from the shock of my old boss’s sudden appearance and the chaotic emotions swirling inside me. Therian… the name feels like a knife twisting in my gut. I don’t want to think about him, about our past, about the bond that seems to tug at my very essence… but I am al