My Mate Has Two Wolves

The Midnight Black Pack's current Alpha will soon be passing his title off to his son Zander Knight. This means Zander will be choosing his slave. All human girls the age of sixteen have to be present at the slave choosing ceremony held today.
I'm sixteen years of age and a human so that means I'll be attending as well. I really hope I don't get chosen. My sister, Julia Hale got chosen about five years ago.
It was awful for my sister because she was chosen when she was very young. They didn't have the rule of being sixteen years of age to be able to be chosen back then. So she was chosen very early. And two years after she was chosen, she was found killed.
That's what the werewolves do. They kill you once they find their mate because they don't need you for their sexual pleasures anymore.
I know, it's horrible. I feel really bad for the girl who'll be chosen this year. I heard Zander Knight is worse than all the other previous Alpha King's. So this year the girls are even more scared than usual.
I could possibly be the chosen girl but I doubt it. The Alpha's go for the most beautiful girl. I don't really think I'm the most beautiful so hopefully I have the chance of not being chosen. I wish this whole slave tradition didn't exist. It's torture for all the girls to be at the ceremony, anxiously sitting there, hoping they won't get chosen.
I have to say Zander Knight is gorgeous. The most handsome guy I have probably ever laid eyes on. But he's cruel and doesn't care about anyone but himself.
The werewolf that took my sister was in fact not an Alpha. Any werewolf can take a himan in as their slave but the ceremony is specifically for Alpha's to choose. The werewolf that took my sister in, hadn't found his mate and he believed he wouldn't ever find her which is why he decided he wanted a slave, to use her. Later on he did end up finding his mate which resulted in killing my sister. I hated how he killed her. Was it really that hard to send her back home?

𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗟𝗘: Slaved by the Alpha King
𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗕𝗬: taramay
𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙬
https://novellaneaf.onelink.me/iefl/1skde5u3

Zander's great great grandpa's the one who created this whole slave choosing ceremony. And it gets continued after a certain amount of years. Now it's Zander's turn. Once Zander has kids, his son will choose a slave too when he's to become an Alpha. And this tradition will carry on and on, into the future.
"Rosie, sweetie it's time for you to get ready for the slave ceremony." My mom said in a croaky voice as if she had been crying for hours.
I quickly took a shower and threw on a cream coloured dress. I then curled my light brown hair and put on a light coating of makeup. You're probably wondering why I seem to be getting so dressed up and it's because I have to. It's the ceremony rule. I've heard stories about the guards beating you up if you didn't come looking presentable.
"Sweetie you look gorgeous. Too gorgeous." My dad said as he pulled me into a hug. I could feel his tears fall onto my shoulder.
"Dad I haven't been chosen yet." I quietly said but I was close to tears as well.
"I'm scared you're going to be picked like Julia was." My dad said wiping his tears away. I just hugged him tightly in response. My mom came next with a handkerchief in her hand to hug me. She was crying as well. My parents have already lost a daughter and they really didn't want to lose me as well.
The doorbell rang and I knew my ride was here. Zander made sure to send cars to pick up all the girls and drag them if they refused to come.
I hugged my parents one more time, gently wiped my tears away so I don't ruin my makeup and made my way over to the car to attend this ceremony.

I quietly got into the car and noticed a couple other girls as well. "Hey." I said to a girl sitting beside me trying to make conversation to take my mind off what was actually happening.
"Shut up bitch!" The driver snarled at me and I immediately shut up, tensing in fear.
We finally reached the place the slave choosing ceremony was being held. All the girls were sitting on the damp green grass waiting for it to start.
I heard someone screaming as I got out of the car and looked to my right to see one of the guards beating up a girl. They were beating her up with whips and it was absolutely torture to watch. I looked around trying to see if anyone was coming to her aid but sadly no one was.
"Stop hurting her!" I demanded as I went up to the guard and that was probably one of the most stupidest things I have ever done.
"Did you just f**king order me what to do? You can't f**king do that you pathetic little human!" He snarled viciously before slapping me straight across the face so hard I fell to the ground.
He got another guard to hold me in place while he took out his whip. I tried struggling out of his grip but it was impossible. The guard then took the whip and hit my stomach hard with it. I let out loud cries of pain as he kept hitting me all over my body. The girl that was getting beaten up before tried to stop the guard from hurting me but another gaurd came and started hitting her again.
"Please stop! Please!" I begged as tears streamed down my face. "Please it hurts so much!"
"Good! Let it hurt!" He laughed menacingly.
"The Alpha and his son are coming!" Someone announced over the intercom and I was so relieved that the guards had stopped beating me. They let both of us go as we fell to the ground, in pain.
My whole body was aching in pain and I could feel many bruises forming. I quickly sat down beside the girls on the damp grass, ignoring the pain I was feeling. The girl that was getting beaten up sat beside me too.
"You really shouldn't have done that." The girl said as she wiped the tears away from her face.

NovelLane - Fiction, Story

Chapter One — Your death left me
battered and bruised.
***
"Next time, you do as I tell you. No questions asked!" Trevor hisses at me through clenched teeth. His pale face is turning bright red, seething with anger. I nod furiously, pushing my petite frame as far up against the wall as I can. My hands physically shake, trembling from the fear overtaking me.
Whatever you do, don't make eye contact with him Emily. . . Eye contact is seen as a challenge.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I'd remembered to wash the dishes left over from last night. I know it isn't a reason for him to hurt me but in Trevors eyes, it's justified. His hand wraps itself in the strands of my hair and he pulls my head backwards, my scalp throbbing.
"Please stop! You don't have to do this!" I yell, pleading with him. My screams of agony fall upon deaf ears so I give up and lie there emotionlessly, letting him torture me like his little rag doll.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror and sigh, hastily wiping the tears away from my eyes. I refuse to cry. . . That's exactly what he wants. He wants me to suffer and I'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing I already am.
A big clump of my dark brown hair is missing, the scalp throbbing painfully where he'd ripped it out. My finger trail down my cheek under my eye where the stinging is now turning into a tender blue bruise.
I'm grateful for my tanned complexion because the bruises don't show up as easily. I bite my bottom lip and let out a small whimper as I attempt to lift my top to see the damage he inflicted. As expected the bruises run up my side but thankfully nothing feels broken.
"Why did you leave me like this Dad?" I whisper, glancing at the frame on my bedside table. A photograph taken of me as a little girl. . . large brown eyes shining happily as I sat on my fathers shoulders, holding onto his hair. His own eyes mirror mine, a pearly smile so white and wide.
Dad and I were inseparable.

𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗟𝗘: His Mission
𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗕𝗬: Sakina Hussain
𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙬
https://novellaneaf.onelink.me/iefl/1skde5u3

I adored the ground my father walked on. Every time he entered the room, I craved his attention. Mum had taken the picture on my sixth birthday party. I remember that day so well, the way my father smiled at me as he sang 'Happy Birthday'. I remember him clutching the cake in front of him, telling me to make a wish and blow out the candles. He cheered and clapped so loud, it felt like I had my own personal cheerleading squad.
Dad died suddenly the following month leaving his only daughter behind with a shattered heart.
Ten years without the man I love and adore.
I shuffle towards my bed, sitting down on the edge of it. I lift the picture up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss over the glass. It feels cool against my lips and I close my eyes, taking slow breaths. I allow the oxygen to fill my lungs and calm my thoughts.
"Night night, sleep tight my little princess." Dad would say every single night, tucking me up tightly before leaving the room and closing the door over slightly.
He knew I didn't like the dark.
"Night night Daddy," I whisper, clutching the picture frame tightly to my chest.

I walk into college, scanning the crowds for my best friend, Trisha Lockwood. The friendship between Trish and I has always been peculiar to anyone looking in from the outside. I'm relatively quiet whereas Trish is loud and bubbly. My dark hair is the complete opposite to Trish's bright blonde locks. She wears pink skirts with frill tops whereas I prefer to stick with denim jeans and a simple t—shirt. The one thing I regret every day is not telling her about my stepfather.
It's been a secret for so long that I don't know how to tell her anymore. Trish knows I despise my stepfather and mother but doesn't question it often as she knows it's a sensitive subject. The girl has the ability to make me laugh until my sides hurt . . . cherish the people in your life who can do that. Even though she's wild at times, I know she has a good heart. We've been friends for years now, first meeting each other in primary school. We clicked from the start, she's wild and I'm calm. I tame her behaviour and she inserts some craziness into my life.
Trish is surrounded by three boys which doesn't surprise me in the slightest. She receives enough male attention for the both of us. I watch as one of the boys lean in, whispering something in her ear. Trish immediately giggles like a love—sick school girl, batting her long eyelashes at him flirtatiously in return.
I roll my eyes and walk over to them, ignoring the pain flaring up my side from the simple movement. Images of my step father raising his fists last night cloud my mind, making my hands clench into tight fists. I'm not a violent character. . . I'm too scared to fight back. I tried once when I was twelve years old and ended up breaking my thumb.
How was I supposed to know I shouldn't tuck my thumb into my fist when punching? Let's just say my thumb has never been the same after that accident. I chuckle at my own stupidity, shaking my head.
"What's funny Emily?" Trish asks, walking over to me and linking her arm through mine. The boys behind her appeared to be heartbroken at her lack of attention and I mentally roll my eyes again. I shake my head at Trish, giving her a small smile.
"Nothing, how was the concert this weekend?" I ask her eagerly, partly wanting to change the subject. Trish winces from the memories before letting out a small chuckle —
"First of all, I was so drunk, I ended up peeing in a bush."
I laugh, shaking my head.
Typical Trish behaviour.
"What about the music? You know, the actual reason you wanted to go."
"The music was awesome but I enjoyed the boys a little more." Trish giggles, waggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
"Meet any cute ones?" I respond, giving a brief wave to a group of girls walking past. Trish nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up —
"The cutest. Let me tell you all about it!" She giggles, dragging me towards a nearby chair. I take a seat and Trish inhales deeply before diving right into every male she encountered at the concert. Whilst she gushes about a handsome blonde, I quickly scan the room.
My eyes land on a hunched over figure at the back of the class. I frown, tilting my head to study him. He's wearing a grey jacket, the hood pulled right over to mask his features. His shoulders are broad and a hint of dark hair sticks out from under the hood. His right hand scrolls through his phone and his other is bandaged tightly. I raise my eyebrow at him. "Hey Trish, who's the new boy?" I ask, interrupting her and signalling in his direction. I watch as her eyes widen once she notices who I'm referring to.
"That's Jake, don't give him any attention." Trish whispers under her breath, not wanting to be heard.
"Jake? As in Jake Melvin?" I ask, knowing the name well. All purely through gossip, of course. Trish nods, her eyes quickly scanning over him.
"He's beautiful but he gives me the creeps."
"Yeah. . ." I agree quietly, my gaze still fixed on Jake Melvin. He isn't surrounded by any friends but the confidence that oozes from him is undeniable. I know he's bad news but that doesn't stop the fact that he's very good looking. Despite the permanent scowl on his face. . . Rumours fly around town about how Jake Melvin is involved in a local gang. He lives with his mum but no—one ever mentioned a father. People avoid Jake due to his dangerous reputation, nobody wants to get involved with the wrong side of the law.
Jake slowly lifts his head and raises an eyebrow at me, clearly catching me gawking at him.
That's when I notice his eyes, a dangerous dark shade of blue. They narrow in my direction, flashing with hostility as he silently dares me to look away. I swallow the nerves, ignoring the way the small hairs on the back of my neck prickles with fear.
"I can see why he gives you the creeps."
His icy stare resembles Trevor, my step father. A chill runs up my spine and my fingers brush over the bruises on my side that continue to throb with pain. I close my eyes, images of Trevor beating me up yesterday flashing through my mind, again. I bite down hard on my lip in an attempt to stop the tears I can feel forming in the back of my eyes.
"Emily?" Trish says beside me, nudging me slightly. I snap my eyes open, giving her a reassuring smile. Trish smiles back before turning towards the teacher and I do the same. Her voice eventually dulls out until her words start blurring together, making no sense. It's hard to concentrate when all I can feel is the throbbing of my injuries.
I feel someone's burning stare from my right and I turn slowly, meeting eyes with Jake Melvin. The intensity in them causes me to suck in a breath and I know no matter how hard I tried, I'll never be able to replicate his intense gaze. He's sat in his seat facing me, his fingers rhythmically tapping away on the desk in front of him. His head is cocked to the right as he studies me, thick dark strands of hair almost falling over into his eyes.
I shudder from the effect of his piercing stare, an uneasy feeling settling inside my stomach. Jake doesn't blink once, challenging me to break eye contact. The corners of his lips twitch upwards into a victorious smirk as he notices how uncomfortable I'm becoming. I turn my head away from him, a shiver running down my spine.
Mental note to self —
Stay out of Jake Melvin's way, at all costs.

NovelLane - Fiction, Story