Outcasts Novels & Stories

I explain, and Chloe smiles. "Outcast is an awesome place. Please take my word for it. They aren't disorganized. Wolves are housed according to their reason for being there. For example, older wolves who are widowed or wolfless live together. Rejected wolves live together. Wolves waiting to meet the soulmate housed together. Once you leave, you will be housed with other wolves our age searching for their mate. There are get-togethers...My point is don't stress. Outcast works. You will find her if she is there," Chloe says, and my stomach unknots a tiny bit.

Swearing and shouting erupted within the van, their voices laced with frustration and anger. The driver slammed on the brakes, bringing the van to a screeching halt. The doors swung open, and the men spilled out, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of determination and fury. They were not about to let their prized subject slip away so easily. They had devoted countless hours to studying lycanthropy, to capturing and experimenting on those afflicted with the curse. George was a valuable asset, and his escape threatened to unravel their carefully constructed plans.

Freya covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “I will…” Hunter glanced at me at the corner. A smug smile curved his lips as he cupped Freya’s face and kissed her deeply. Cheers rose in wave after wave, almost overturning the entire venue. Only I stood there quietly, counting down in my heart. Suddenly, someone noticed me in the corner and screamed, “Wasn’t Leia expelled from the pack? Why is she here?” All eyes turned toward me. The joy on their faces instantly shifted to disgust and mockery, as if they were looking at garbage.

Fred said, his playful tone dropping into something more serious. "I need them more!" Cassandra snapped. She felt a surge of protectiveness over her patient. "Your sister just came out of prison, and she’s developed a stress-rash. I need to formulate a new cream for her skin before it gets worse!" The playfulness vanished from Fred’s face instantly. He straightened up, his eyes widening. "W-What? Aubrey... was in prison?" Cassandra crossed her arms, her finger pointing accusingly at Fred’s chest. "So the rumors are true? You really treated her like an outcast in the BloodMoon Pack? You didn't even know?"

Leo smiled placing a kiss on my lips, his words sweet as I rested my forehead on his. “The Outcast Claimed by the King.” I smiled looking that very King in the eyes, after twenty years of searching… I’d found my place. ~The End~

Lyla collapsed, her face ashen. "You dared deceive me!" Lukas was consumed by rage. He kicked her aside. "You made me believe I would have a pureblood heir!" "Lukas, please..." Lyla crawled toward him, trying to grab his leg. "I love you... I just wanted a child..." "Love?" Lukas shoved her away in disgust. "What would a filthy creature like you know of love?" He turned to the crowd and announced in a voice of cold fury: "From this moment on, this... thing... is no longer my mate! She is an outcast! A rogue! I'm sending her to the orc mines to live out the rest of her filthy existence!"

Eight years into the Cappello family, and only today did I discover there's a meeting room beneath the estate. Half an hour ago, my husband Julian put on his coat and said he was heading to the New Jersey docks to handle a smuggling shipment. Five minutes after he left, the estate's internal line rang. It was Julian's driver, asking if he should have the car washed. It had gotten dirty from yesterday's rain. Julian never rides in anyone else's car for long trips. If he'd gone to New Jersey, his driver should be behind the wheel right now. I went down to the second-level basement garage. His car was still there. The emergency stairwell beside it was inexplicably open. I followed it down and f

"Don't worry. I'm not angry about how you treated me, but I won't make up with you either. You're the ones who kicked me out. I'm never going back." The Starks made a scene and refused to leave, as though they wouldn't stop until I reconciled with them. I had no choice but to call building security. The security staff of a high-end residence were nothing short of efficient, and all four of them were promptly escorted out. After that, I never saw the Starks again, though I heard a lot about them. Thanks to their loose lips, word had gotten around that I was worth hundreds of millions. Everyone suddenly wanted to strike up a conversation with me, hoping to get something out of me. I was happy

I managed this time, trying to ignore the way my muscles tensed and my mouth ran dry as this conversation elongated. “Rogues aren’t like us, Iris,” he explained, his eyes wide as he continued in a seemingly manic state to explain things to me. “They are crazed wolves who try to live without a pack. That m-makes a wolf go mad after some time. T-They’re mindless killers; they will hurt others if they’re not stopped. I’ve seen it happen too many times.”

At the start of graduation season, my boyfriend took more than two hundred photos of Madison Vale. Chase Whitman was president of Westbridge University’s photography club. He knew how to find flattering light and how to coax people out of stiff smiles. Madison stood beneath the maples outside the library in a white dress, her graduation cap tucked under one arm. “Am I taking up too much of your time?” she asked. Chase checked the last few shots and smiled. “You make my job easy.” When it was finally my turn, he barely looked at me. “Stand by the tree.” He clicked the shutter twice and lowered the camera. “Done.” I stared at him. “That’s it?” He turned the screen toward me. In one photo my ey