Tragic Love Werewolf Short Stories & Devotion Countdown Novels

Adrian Blackwood’s dominant Alpha scent still clung to the room. My legs hadn’t stopped trembling, and the wolf inside me was letting out soft whimpers after the intimacy we’d just lost control of. The next second, Adrian caught my chin in his hand and pressed a white pill onto the back of my tongue. “Swallow.” I didn’t fight him. Once he was satisfied, he picked up his phone and called another she-wolf right in front of me. “Vivian, get ready.” “I’m taking you to the Moon Goddess Gala tonight.” When the door shut behind him, the mate mark over my heart felt as though it had been torn open. I was the fated mate chosen for Adrian by the Moon Goddess when he turned eighteen. I was also the Luna of the Silverpine Pack—at least in name. Yet my own Alpha had spent years making sure I would never bear his heir. All because, eight years ago, he discovered the agreement the former Luna had forced me to sign. If I gave birth to an heir within one year, I would receive a one-hundred-million-dollar family trust. If I gave birth within three years, the trust would be reduced to fifty million. If I still failed to produce an heir after seven years, I would no longer have the right to interfere with the Alpha’s public involvement with other she-wolves. With bloodshot eyes, Adrian had demanded, “Elena Vale, when you accepted my mate mark, was it because you loved me—or because you wanted the Blackwood fortune?” From that day on, he began parading different she-wolves in front of me. He forced me to feel jealous. Forced me to admit that I loved him. What he never knew was that the agreement had a second page. If we remained childless at the end of eight years, either party could terminate both the legal marriage and the Luna bond. Today marked exactly eight years.

Sepharine cared for Draven, the crippled son of an Alpha, for three long years. After painstakingly helping him regain his strength, he scorned her—for she was merely a lowly maid, unworthy of an Alpha's heir. Heartbroken, Sepharine left the pack. Only after losing her did Draven realize the depth of his feelings for her.

Seven years ago, I turned my back on my powerless fated mate, Soren, and chose a powerful Alpha instead. Now, I’m dying alone in this shitty apartment with seven days to live. The Moon's Glow is fading inside me. Without the Final Rite, my soul will be chained to this earth, a ghost doomed to an eternity of torment. And no Alpha will perform it for me. Coughing up another mouthful of blood, I dialed the one number I swore I’d never touch again. Soren. The mate I rejected. Now, the most powerful Alpha in the North. I begged him for the Final Rite. Moments later, his engine screamed down my street. But the boy I once knew was gone. The man staring back at me now held nothing but pure, undiluted hatred in his eyes. "Well, well. Look what we have here," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "The fallen princess. When are you going to finally drop dead? The second your heart stops, I’m dumping your corpse in the Feral Lands for the scavengers."