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Jamie Meekins

  • Unlocked Chapters: 648
  • Novel Reviews: 10

Favorite Novels

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  • 👁 37.5K
  • 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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  • 👁 17.4K
  • 9.7

Fight between Alphas Today was our sixteenth birthday and of all the days my brother Alpha Ryker had to call an Alpha meeting on his twin sister’s birthday. To say we were p*ss*d off was an understatement. Arial and I watched from the upstairs window as Alpha’s from all over filed out of their cars before being greeted by our father and Ryker. My twin sister Arial hated the meetings just as much as me. It was one thing being twins, it was another being Lycan hybrid twins, and we always found that we copped the most stares. Once we came of age and didn’t get our wolves or shift, we knew we differed from our brother. Our mother was a direct descendant of the Moon Goddess, therefore, so are we. Our brother inherited most of our father’s traits, he shifted when he was twelve and was what we call an early bloomer, but he didn’t share my mother’s Hybrid gene. Yes, he was a direct descendant like us, but for some reason he only received certain traits while my sister and I were exactly like our mother. We had no wolves and were half vampire and half Lycan. We were both saddened when we didn't get our wolves. Ryker always spoke of how much he loved his wolf growing up. But we still had each other. Being twins means you always have another half, a best friend for life, and my sister and I were incredibly close. So close, my mother sometimes had trouble telling us apart, the only giveaway being that our scents were different slightly.

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Heroes

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