Fictive Alter Novels & Stories

“You know better than to ask questions you know I can’t answer yet.” “Try me,” he said. She ignored him again, eyes on me. “You broke their model,” she said. “How?” “You started predicting people, not systems.” The words hit with strange familiarity. I’d always done that. Even as a child, patterning behavior faster than math. “They flagged you,” she continued. “Then they altered you.” My jaw set. “Define altered.” “Memory partition. Emotional dampening. Identity relocation.” Dominic’s fingers pressed slightly, silent check-in, steady?

“I’m hoping for it to happen.” She then led me outside to continue taking me around his room. Lillian told me about the Alpha’s nightmares and how she manages them so as to keep him from withdrawing into himself and letting his alter ego take over. She said I had to be really careful not to let his alter ego take over because once he does, he leaves the pack for days and weeks sometimes, returning only when hurt and leaving the Alpha unconscious for another week or more. “Have you ever met his alter ego?” I asked as she now opened the door to the walk-in closet present in the Alpha’s room. It was huge, almost the size of my room back at the Bluecoven’s pack.

Ruin We’re all seated in the living room of the pack house, watching Ryker pacing the floor. He’s just returned from Vegas and filled us in on what happened. The shapeshifter who looked like me had no intention of speaking, but after Fenriz used his Alpha Sight on him, Fenriz could see everything. Alpha Sight is when True Alphas embed their claws into the base of a person’s skull to see their hidden memories. Fenriz found this out when he was having fun with the shifter, who looked like me.

They were more emotionally stable and if they will, they could keep up with both Prime Alpha and Beta Sentinel. But along with these new categories came another two, Feral and Aberrant. The first one pertains to people of any secondary gender who lost touch with reality and could be triggered by a lot of stressful situations. The latter was a category for those who had genetic disabilities. Common cases were because of the difference in the genes of the parents.

"I don't anymore." He froze. "Ethan, you've gotten one thing wrong all along." I looked at him. "I was good to you, not because of duty, but because of love." "But we..." "We're nothing," I cut him off. "We broke the mate bond, and you have a new mate. We're over." "That was fake!" Ethan said, desperate. "The mate ceremony with Vivian was fake! We only did it to calm the pack down..." "Fake?" I pulled out my phone. "Are these fake too?"

I couldn't tell if it was fear, or shame, or something in between- but it gripped me so tightly I almost turned back. But then I pictured my mother. The way she smiled when I said I'd try. The way she folded my scarf carefully the night before, like it was armor. I couldn't disappoint her. Not now. The scarf hugged my face gently. Wrapping around my face only revealing my eyes, they are one of my body parts that's still intact and the same. I adjusted it over and over again making sure that only my eyes showed. The part I wasnt afraid to reveal.

He isn’t pretending to be someone he’s not. It’s disarming.

“Jonathan’s not flagged in the ATRY (Alpha Temperament Registry). No therapy record. Nothing. And he’s been around kids? Around Sebastian? Around you.” Tomas Moreno walked past pushing a cart overloaded with motion sensors and steel cable. “He shouldn’t have made it past the court gate,” he muttered. Felix, behind him, said nothing. He just dropped a bolt cutter into the cart with a sharp clang. The hospital filed paperwork fast and clean. Alpha Imprint Psychosis. Medical code 9.3.A-IP. A rare, scent-triggered condition of neurological override—legal shorthand for what happens when a bonded Alpha sees red.

Somewhere in him, deep down, is Felix, the caring, empathetic person I had poured my heart out to online. I meet his gaze, my eyes pleading, but he turns and takes his seat. He doesn’t care. My heart sinks. I don’t know why I keep thinking things will be different. Even before I knew that Vedant and Felix were the same person, I had let myself hope that he would come to his senses and had been let down every time. Vedant being Felix doesn’t change that and I’m not sure why I thought it might. Whatever persona he had used online, was clearly fake because the Felix I knew wouldn’t stand by and let anybody suffer this way.

I whisper, my hand reaching out blindly. Alex catches my wrist. His grip is warm, grounding. "That's the point," he murmurs. "I'm adding phantom partners to the simulation. You’re going to feel touches that aren't physically there. Your brain won't be able to tell the difference." My heart kicks up a notch. "Phantom partners?" "Echo knows your history," Alex says, guiding my hands behind my back. "He knows every fantasy you've ever had about being overwhelmed. About being... outnumbered."