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Galatea Walker

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  • Novel Reviews: 1

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Updated
  • 👁 36.2K
  • 8.0

My name is Katia; I want to find my fated mate and live a peaceful life raising our pups. The problem is I have holes in my memories and don’t understand who or what I am. I know I am a werewolf, but I am also something else. Rejection is the last straw! I am not worthy is the reason he gives. The pain doubles me over; my wolf is whimpering in my head, and tears are running down my face. I whispered my acceptance of his rejection and took off running. I ran through the pack house out across the green manicured lawn into the forest. "I'm sorry, my sweet girl," I say to my wolf. I'm sorry you have been stuck with me, and our life has been difficult. She whispers," It's not your fault, Katia." I don't know how long or far we ran, but we came to a cliff with a waterfall. The pain from the rejection is unbearable, and the hurt keeps pounding at me. I know I am missing something. Aza, my wolf, feels it, too; she says we are more than regular werewolves and are here for a reason. We cannot remember the reason. I stand staring at the water running over and down, creating the fall. I wonder what the reason is for the millionth time. Why can I or Aza not remember? Does it have something to do with the way others treat us? The way we have been sent to live with different people since the death of our parents? Does it have something to do with why my fated rejected me? I am tired of figuring out why our memories do not make sense. My sweet girl and I want peace, but we do not know how to obtain it. I stand staring into the oblivion of the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. So I stand there rejected, half a wolf, speaking with my Wolfie, my nickname for Aza, debating what we should do next. Someone was yelling my name from the direction I ran. I do not want to go back there. I hear laughter. Turning, I glance down over the cliff. There is another pack having a barbecue. The adults are laughing and watching the pups play. What looks to be the Alpha, beta, and gamma of the pack are in the water playing Marco Polo with some of the children. They look so happy and carefree. I want that. I wonder if Aza and I ever have a life like that.

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Book cover
  • 👁 32.2K
  • 6.9

His iron grip was fastened around my waist and he pinned me on to the wall. "Let go of me!" I gritted. "If I want to right now" he leaned in close, his lips grazing my earlobe. "I can forcefully have my way with you and watch you scream your beautiful melodious tone underneath me" he whispered gravelly. I gasped and tried getting his hands of my waist. "You are my wife after all aren't you?" He teased, his teeth gently nibbling on my skin. I felt a strange heat brewing up inside me and I fought to control it. "Dante let go of me!" I seethed. Slowly, his head ascended from my neck and faced me. He ran a finger along my lips and a devilish smile curled up on his face. * * * * * * Love. Crime. Passion. Strong female lead Alina Fedorov, the vibrant and daring daughter to the Don of the Russian mafia is forcefully put into marriage against her wishes by her father. And her groom is no other than the feared Dante Morelli, the ruthless capo dei capi of the most powerful and dangerous Italian-American mafia. He has his base running all through Europe and America with myriads of capos and underbossess at his beck and call. Running his underworld without a heart, he is quick to do away with any one who goes against his orders and his years of training has him equipped for a dangerous life of crime. But none of that will matter when he meets the impulsive and independent Alina Federov. Can love ever blossom between the two especially as Dante craves revenge on Alina for the sins of her father? Or will Alina be able to break down his walls of coldness and have him on his knees for her?

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Book cover
  • 👁 134.7K
  • 8.4

▷Important note: The story is not finished and has not been updated for some time. “I, Madeline Clark, rejec…,” I started speaking, but Alpha Dimitri stopped me by putting his hand over my mouth. He pulled me closer to him and growled. “What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted. “I am not letting you do this, Maddie. I’ve waited for you for months and I am not going to lose you!” His eyes held so much pain and his voice was laced with panic. “You are mine, Maddie,” he said as he leaned in and pressed a small kiss on my forehead. “You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” Madeline is a 17-year-old girl who still hasn’t shifted into her wolf. Her father abandoned her mother when she was very young. She’s been bullied and laughed at all the time. After she lost her mom, the person who loved her the most, Madeline is completely distraught and broken. Her father comes back to take her back to his pack. Madeline is against it, but her financial situation forces her to go with him. Dimitri is a Lycan wolf, the Alpha of his very successful pack. He is 22 years old, and he still hasn’t found his mate. When Madeline comes to his pack, he is very surprised to find out that she is his mate. He is also very frustrated because she is his stepsister who still hasn’t shifted. She can’t recognize him as her mate. Madeline struggles in the new pack. She doesn’t have the best relationship with her stepmother. She can’t wait to turn 18 and leave. What will happen when Madeline finds out who her mate is? What will Dimitri do after she rejects him? Will he be able to convince her to stay?

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Book cover
  • 👁 41K
  • 9.0

When I was a child, my grandma used to tell me stories. At the time, I never gave them much thought. Thinking they were just that… stories. Growing up, I soon realized that they weren’t lofty fantasies and fairy tales but memories of her past, memories of our ancestors before our world turned to sh*t. You see, what comes from legend, no matter how exaggerated the story becomes, there is always a sliver of truth. You just need to weed out the fiction from fact. My grandmother used to tell me stories of the Chosen One—the one who would save us all. When I was younger, I used to believe that what she said was true. Eventually, someone would be born, just as the Oracle predicted—someone who could save our souls and bind us back to our magic. Once I grew up and saw the world unfolding around me, I no longer believed in salvation. The chosen one seemed to be more of a prayer than reality. Some dream we wanted desperately to come true. Something in which we needed to find hope when there wasn’t any left. When our ancestors turned their backs on us, how were we expected to believe in this so-called salvation? Especially when all we witnessed was death and carnage ever since the great war. Nothing except pain and poverty. I used to believe the stories and used to pray for the mysterious chosen one that would rid our world of its evil. Now, though, I see it for what it really is, just a dream of hope. Some out of reach fairy-tale. A story to create hope. Hope is dangerous; it makes you believe things will get better. I stopped hanging on to hope when I witnessed firsthand that it caused nothing but heartache.

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Heroes

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