2 Bit Outsiders Novels & Stories

Her voice cracked. Yeah, she wanted that bribed healer to clean this up—but Martha was gone. And the other crib? Still. Too still. No crying. No movement. "James..." she leaned in, trying to whisper, probably begging him to grab the real pup before it was too late— But her words got crushed under the sound of heavy boots. The crowd shifted. Wolves parted. Five robed elders strode in, each marked with a unique crest. The silver-haired one with the full moon emblem gave me a nod.

‘Because there’s an outsider inside their city. ***

Dagen POB The sunlight has grown warmer as the day stretches onward, softening the edges of a world that was once far too harsh and unyielding. Leaning casually against the railing, I take in the gentle scene below with quiet amazement. The trial grounds that had once felt ominous, cruel, and merciless have transformed into something hopeful, something peaceful. Today, there’s laughter echoing softly from the Alphas and Omegas as they connect, each seeking their mate rather than claiming a victim.

**Meanwhile…** At his secluded cottage deep in the mountains, Dylan lay curled on the cold wooden floor, his body bare, his breath ragged. His wolf had finally settled. For two days, the beast had been restless, clawing at his insides, howling for their mate. He had feared the worst. That she was dead. That he had been too late. The memory of that night was burned into his mind. Dylan had received reports of Neotides prowling near the eastern edge of his territory. These creatures—*Bittens*—were ruthless, dangerous, and had no control over their hunger for chaos.

Isaac and Cathy were paralyzed. Ultimately, I told them that I would waive the money they owed me, but on the condition that they stopped bothering me again. On the way back, I suddenly received a PDF attachment from an unknown number. I tapped into the document and saw that it was a scanned copy of a loan agreement with Mom's and Dad's crooked signatures on it. The agreement clearly stated that Mom and Dad had borrowed 300,000 dollars from a microfinance company, using their house as collateral. And in the contact person box, Vivian's name and phone number were listed.

I smiled as I made a call, "Hello, officer? As far as I know, Madeline Lewis owed a huge gambling debt abroad, and she returned just to raise money. I suspect she might have trafficked Fable Lewis." An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—I just had to get back at those who wronged me. Otherwise, what was the point of life?

I opened it. He had screenshotted something. The image loaded slowly, the particular lag of a large file on a connection that was doing its best. When it finished loading I could see it was a group chat. Not the main team chat. A secondary one, smaller membership, the kind of private thread that existed inside larger team ecosystems for the people who wanted a space the whole roster was not in. Legacy players only.

“Don’t act so stunned. It appears to be the nature of the mammoth around here. They can’t appear to stand up to us.” Her cousin, Bronaugh, gave a grunt from her spot on the couch, where she was imagining not to tune in. Her possess wolf-man, Marc, had made it exceptionally clear that he was totally against the thought of Bitsy going anyplace, but he’d cleared out the three of them alone in the loft to grant them time to talk secretly approximately it. Bitsy looked back at her, lifting one eyebrow. “You’re not making a difference my case here, Bro.” “Sorry.” Bronaugh smiled at her “cousin.”

The whole situation was beyond screwed up and I had a feeling that was exactly what my psycho stalker wanted. An hour later and the count of victims was at 17 and of those 17 we had found two that had been bitten, one man and one woman. Thank God Zachary hadn't tried to change them all, clearly he was aiming for creating confusion as opposed to wolves. He'd also killed four. My mind wasn't ready to deal with that fact yet, the loss and damage created by this monster. Max: I'm on my way, babe. The coward didn't show.

Even if they were dead. "You think you're special, bitch?" I flinched away when a girl, just my age, tried to grab me. She didn't make it past one step when she stumbled and fell down on the sand. Her dark bob reminded me so much of Zoe. "Others are being treated like royalty while we starve until the boat comes." A man barked a laugh. His accent somehow sounded Scottish. Sudden guilt started overwhelming me. This was all too wrong. "Stay in your line!" I heard a growl. Looking up, I saw three identical bald men in complete black attire, keeping the dead people in their specific lines.