Female Wedgies

Alpha Syd is a side-story of Scars. “I was reborn the heartless demon wolf, Syd Vicious. I became a nightmare, an urban legend, folklore, a monster.” The only daughter of the fallen White Ridge Pack’s Beta, Sydney Eld, was forever changed on the “Night of Raids.” Losing the last of her family and fighting against her own pack. Her natural wiry flame-red hair and amber eyes leave others shaken with fear. It’s no wonder the goddess has chosen Sydney to take over as Alpha since she has proven again and again to fight for what is right and will not let anyone stand in her way. She is not without opposition, as pack elders are not thrilled with the prospect of a female Alpha. She also has to fight off a group of rogues led by a Rogue Alpha hell-bent on seeing the White Ridge Pack burnt to the ground. Sydney’s only light and hope are her Lumiere (a term for male Luna), Silas Youngblood. He is the third son of the Amaris Pack's Beta and her destined mates. Can Silas pull Syd out of her dark path? Can she learn to trust again? Can this fated mated pair rise above to bring prosperity back to their pack?

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?" Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together. So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

On the way to my twin boys' parent-teacher conference, I'm informed that my sons, Ricky and Micky Stallone, have already been taken home by their parents. I'm immediately worried sick about their safety. However, when I look across the road, I suddenly catch sight of a very happy family of four—Ricky, Micky, my husband, Corbin Stallone, and his first love he could never forget, Ingrid Lacelle. Ricky and Micky both run into Ingrid's arms, cozying up to her and calling her "Mommy". Meanwhile, Corbin gently kisses Ingrid's forehead with a doting expression on his face. I join the crowd of envious onlookers, watching the beginning of the end of my marriage.

Marga Kingston a struggling young woman, is desperate to save her mother from a life-threatening illness. Despite her best efforts, she has been unable to raise the money needed for her mother's treatment. With time running out, Marga feels she has no choice but to take the only option she has left. She reluctantly signs up as a stripper at Paul's bar, hoping to earn enough money to save her mother. At the bar, Marga catches the eye of a wealthy, handsome man, called Alex Renold, the CEO of a major corporation in Textile. He offers her a huge sum of money in exchange for her company for one night. Desperate for the money, Marga wants to agree but she can’t. She had never been with any man, more so, her brother Denis would kill anyone who slept with her or worse, got her pregnant. Eventually, she comes to terms with the fact that only Alex is willing to give her the amount of money she needs for her mother’s treatment. She reluctantly accepts his offer, to be his female escort for 6 months.

At the full moon party before our marking ceremony, my mate Lucas got wasted. I went to pick him up, just like we agreed. Only to walk in on him burying his face in his first love’s neck, marking her with his scent. "Don't ever leave me again, Willow. My wolf only wants you." His first love shot me a triumphant smirk and shoved him into my arms. "Your mate is here. You should go." But Lucas, hiding behind his drunkenness, just looked at me with disgust. "You're the only one for me, Willow! She's just some lowly half-blood Omega. She's just my ride home, don't worry about her." I swallowed my humiliation and took him home, only to find out he wasn't drunk at all. He claimed he only said those things to appease Willow, for the sake of her pack's power. I just turned away. So on the day we were supposed to be bound for life, I ran. If Lucas was still hung up on his first love, then I would grant him his wish and disappear. But I never expected that after I left, he would lose his mind, crying and begging for me to come back.

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

Herbert Fischer lets his precious childhood sweetheart dump scalding stew all over me as everyone watches. Worse, he tells me to apologize, all because I said one harsh sentence to her. Tears stream down my face as I ask him, "Is my life worth less than a hair on her head?" He snorts. "Stop overthinking. It's just hot stew—you won't die from a few burns."

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]