All Chapters of Sweet Abomination : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The morning of my wedding doesn’t begin with the soft glow of the sun or the gentle song of birds, as it does in fairy tales.It begins with a shock of ice-cold water that steals the air from my lungs. The brutal cold drags me violently from a dreamless sleep. I gasp, my lungs seizing as the liquid pours over my nose and mouth, stinging my eyes. I scramble upright, coughing and sputtering, my hands slapping blindly at the soaked sheets. Through the blur of wet hair and the sudden chill of the morning air, I see the woman who haunts me everywhere.She haunts my dreams and torments me in reality, too. And she’s the woman I’m supposed to call my mother.My stepmother, Veronica, stands at the foot of my bed, holding an empty crystal pitcher. She doesn’t look like a woman about to see her daughter off to a happy life. She looks like a woman who can’t wait to take out the trash that’s been living in her house for over twenty years.She’s tall and lean, with her hair pulled back into a knot

AdrianThe smoke is a living thing, a thick, black beast that claws at my throat and turns the air into jagged glass."Stay here, Adrian. Do not move. Do not make a sound."My father’s hands are heavy on my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin through my thin nightshirt. He’s a mountain of a man, usually unshakable, but his eyes are wide and reflecting the orange hell roaring behind him. He shoves me into the small, dark space of the hallway closet, the smell of old coats and cedar momentarily masking the scent of burning pine."Close your eyes," he snarls, his voice cracking. "Cover your ears. Don't open them until the sun comes up. Do you hear me?"I nod, my teeth chattering so hard I’m worried they’ll break. He slams the door, and the world turns into a tomb. I press my palms against my ears, squeezing my eyes shut until I see spots, but it doesn't help. I can still hear it. The howling isn't like the pack calls I’m used to. It’s high, wet, and hungry. There’s shouting, the

Stepping out of the car feels exactly like stepping onto a battlefield without a shield.The crushed white gravel crunches loudly under my cheap, tight shoes. The mountain wind bites immediately through the thin beige lace of my dress, raising goosebumps along my arms. I wrap my arms around my ribs and stare up at the massive stone fortress that belongs to Alpha Luke. The estate is a sprawling monstrosity of dark grey rock, arched windows, and iron gargoyles perched on the rooflines. I take one step forward, and the whispers begin.They do not even try to hide it. The courtyard is packed with guests in suits and shimmering silk gowns. As I walk toward the grand entrance, heads turn. The conversations stop, replaced by a wave of sharp, predatory laughter. A woman in a dark blue dress points a champagne flute at me, her lip curling in disgust. A man beside her shakes his head, his eyes raking over my ill-fitting gown like I am a piece of rotting meat left on the porch.I keep my eyes f

BELLEThe rearview mirror holds nothing but empty asphalt and the ghosts of the life I just abandoned.I twist my torso in the plush leather seat, pressing my hand against the cold glass of the passenger window. I crane my neck, searching the winding mountain road behind us for any sign of headlights. There is nothing. Just the dark silhouettes of towering pine trees swallowing the distance we cover. The tires eat up the miles with a smooth, powerful rhythm, pulling me further and further away from Alpha Luke and his stone fortress."They are coming," I say. My voice is ragged, scraping against my dry throat. "Luke has trackers. He has hunters. Once he realizes I am gone, he will send every single one of them down this mountain."The man behind the wheel keeps his icy eyes fixed on the road. His broad shoulders barely shift under his tailored charcoal suit jacket as he navigates a sharp, treacherous curve. "You don't need to worry about L

BELLEA sleeping person is a lot heavier than you might expect.Adrian rests his head on my lap, his thick dark hair spilling over the grey fabric of his own oversized t-shirt. The quiet of the cabin settles around us, broken only by the steady, deep rhythm of his breathing. I sit completely still on the leather sofa. I am terrified to move. I am terrified to wake him.Just a few hours ago, I was sprinting down a mountain in a torn wedding dress, fleeing a man who promised to murder me by the next blood moon. I have no money. I have no shoes. My stepmother sold me, and my father is out there somewhere, completely oblivious to the fact that his only daughter is a fugitive. I should be hysterical. I should be crying.Instead, I am sitting in the woods, guarding the sleep of a man I barely know.His jaw is relaxed. The jagged white scar running along his bone looks less threatening in the dim yellow light of the living room lamps. I carefully trace the air above his face, never actually