The Wretched Novels & Stories

“You should’ve stayed in whatever hole you came from.” I tried to retreat further, folding in on myself, but my back already pressed against the cold, unyielding wall. There was nowhere to go. I clutched my arms tighter against my body, leaning forward protectively as if to shield myself from their predatory sneers. Their words descended like knives, deliberate and cutting. “Not worth it,” one declared, shaking his head with mock pity as he stepped back. “She’s damaged.” “Absolutely,” another mocked. “Broken. Not even worth the pity of rogues like us.”

Her voice grew more and more hysterical. "And a worthless traitor like you deserves to be with a rotten person like me!"

But there was something interesting about this guy that she decided to study him first. The house wasn’t as splendid as Will had expected, and his nose wrinkled at the stench that must have traveled in the air from the kitchen. (It smelled like stale coffee and burnt toast.) He looked around and thought that the living room could use a serious cleaning because when he looked down at the carpet, it was crying for a vacuum. And he had never seen a room with so little furniture and character. The entire place felt so…sad. He even felt sorry just by being there.

I wanted to vent out my feelings. “It’s okay, Sarah…” Gene said softly and patted my back while I bent my face down and began to cry. “I don’t believe this. I can’t… I am not in a position to understand this because I had a crush on him guys…” I said out loud and then added, “I developed a strong crush on him when I saw him for the first time… He was my first crush… And now I feel like an idiot to like a guy who is such an asshole… Who don’t even think twice before ruining someone’s life… I regret having a crush on him because he is so evil… He hates me so much and what an idiot am I…” I chuckled with my tears travelling down from my eyes while I continued, “I am an idiot that I began to lik

Even the most beautiful scenery in the world couldn't compare to a small smile from you. "If anything happened to you, I'd be nothing but broken bones and dried blood. There'd be no life left in me at all." I was still the same Gabrielle Armstrong, and he was still the same Jared Sheppard. Yet, the man who once said that the most beautiful scenery in the world couldn't compare to me now called me arrogant and insufferable. Back then, he said that I was his weakness, that without me, there'd be no life left in him. Now, he called me greedy, asking how much money it'd take to make me leave.

“Remember why we’re here. Mr. Fowler doesn’t like heat before a deal. We can’t lose it over a wretched bar girl.” That word had been enough to boil her blood. Niya’s fists balled that her nails bit into her palms, eyes narrowed to slits, the flames inside her now a raging inferno. Wretched? That was how they saw her, nothing more than a cheap girl meant to be used and discarded. It hurts much worse than anything she'd felt tonight.

I tried to stand, to fight, but my body no longer obeyed. The axe had cut deep. Too deep. I fell to one knee, pressing my hand against the wound, but blood poured between my fingers, dark and unstoppable. My wolf snarled inside me, thrashing, trying to heal, but even his strength faltered. “No…” I gasped, shaking my head. “Not now. Not here.”

Makeup long ruined, hair matted with spit and cum—she looked exactly like what she had become: a completely corrupted, greedy cumdump who had betrayed every boundary for this night of ultimate depravity. Yet her eyes still burned with that rotten, insatiable fire. Her greedy cunt clenched visibly around nothing, pushing her prolapsed womb-flesh out even further as if begging for more abuse. “Please…” she whispered hoarsely, voice cracking. “All of you. Aiden too. Destroy me completely. I want every single cock and fist wrecking my holes until I’m nothing but a leaking, bred-out wreck. Ruin your filthy slut forever.”

The cold up on Shattered Ridge hit hard, like every breath was pulling in sharp bits of ice mixed with that awful smell of charred wood and decay. I glanced down the path and saw those twisted shapes waiting-not really wolves anymore, but something worse, fur patchy and eyes burning red. They were Justin's creations, all twisted up by the Red Queen's Curse, his whole messed up army.

Because deep down, he knew he kind of deserved it. He poured himself a generous amount of whiskey, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass. Then he downed it in one long gulp, letting it burn all the way down. It didn’t fix anything, but at least it numbed a bit of the shame. Jeremiah had barely made it back to his estate. He crashed onto the leather couch, groaning as the cushions pressed against his bruises. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered. He looked like shit. His face was swollen, his shirt torn, his ribs ached like hell. His body was a wreck, nose probably broken, eye swollen shut.