scooby

She left her past behind when her world crumbled—betrayed by love, abandoned by her pack, and burdened by loss. One wild night in Europe changed everything: a s*xy stranger, stolen kisses, and her first time… that left her with a surprise she never expected. Now a full-time writer and single mom, Elara returns to her old pack after years away, only to walk straight into the wedding of the century—the Alpha King’s wedding. But when the groom turns to her, their eyes lock, and he growls one word that stops the ceremony cold: “Mine.” Oh. Crap. Worse? He just noticed her toddler. And growled again: “My pup.” Let the chaos begin. Weddings, werewolves, jealous exes, awkward family dinners, steamy revenge kisses, and fated mate drama collide in this uproarious, s*xy, and heart-melting ride of second chances, found family, and unexpected love.

"Omega's are supposed to stay quiet. Omega's are supposed to obey. Omega's are supposed to do EVERYTHING I f*ck*ng say!" Alpha Morrison said in anger as he spat at me. I lived each day in fear for my life. Wondering what I did wrong to deserve such fate. Was their hatred toward me so strong, they'd happily give me away to a ruthless alpha? Leaving me to fend for myself? Olivia Watson is despised by her pack. Beaten, tortured, and treated as the pack's slave since the day her mother and brother died. Everyone blamed her for their death, but little did she know there are secrets hidden from her. She finds herself being rejected by her first mate, only to find that her second chance mate is the notorious alpha, Alarick of the Dark Moon Pack. No one really knows him, other than he should never be crossed. The stories she has heard of him make her tremble in fear, but will he really be so bad? After all, every beast has its beauty that can tame him. Will she be the one to tame the beast in him?

Isla- a young, and underestimated warrior. After surviving years of traumatic abuse, she is left orphaned, and alone. She strives to prove to herself, and others, that she is not weak. Though she is beautiful and strong years of psychological abuse, she doesn’t believe she is worthy of love, or that the Moon Goddess will grant her a fated mate. Alpha Zac is the fair and strong leader of Clear Creek. Secretly a hopeless romantic, Zac wants his fated mate more than anything. But after waiting years to find her, he has accepted a playboy lifestyle. When a unique she-wolf warrior joins his pack, she does more than fulfill his fantasies, and she tests how far he will go to protect her from her past. “WEAK” he yells as he swiftly brings the whip at me. I quickly try to cover my face but am not fast enough. I hiss in pain as the unforgiving leather slices my hand and eyebrow. I try to swallow the sob that wants to escape me, but instead, I throw up. Maybe he would have stopped there if I would have missed his boots.** (ISLA) I feel a pang of jealousy; she has what I've always wanted. A loving family, support, friends, and stability. Audrie doesn't have to question if she belongs here or try to prove her worth. (ZAC)My whole chest tightens, and my wolf presses forward. “MATE”. The urgency to hold her, to take away the pain, intensifies. I reach out and lift her head, and that's when I see the gash trickling blood onto the already blood-covered rock. I scoop her up and head straight to the infirmary. I just found my mate, I can't lose her on the same night.

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.