Patrick_0507

Blurb: 
Freya Kael has spent her life on the edges of the Whiteclaw Pack, orphaned and outsider with no claim to a name or power. Her life has been one of survival, with no family, friends, or purpose. That changes the day she learns her fated mate is none other than Finnick Logan the strong and feared Alpha of the Whiteclaw Pack. Freya’s heart swells with hope, but her world shatters when Finnick openly rejects her, calling her weak and unworthy of his name. Devastated and cast aside, Freya is forced into hiding.

But Freya soon finds that her fate has much more in store. Alone and fragile, she finds she holds a secret power, one linked to a famous werewolf family long thought dead. This power could tip the balance of the werewolf world. With rival packs seeking her out and her powers getting stronger, Freya must decide whether to rise to this calling or let her hate for Finnick consume her.

As secrets unravel, Finnick finds himself pulled back to Freya, haunted by his past choices and family betrayals. But with a rival pack threatening their survival and an old enemy reawakening, they may have to join despite the pain between them. Can Freya forgive the mate who destroyed her, and can Finnick redeem himself before he loses everything including Freya?

Betrayed By The Pack

I was surrounded by swirling blackness.

A loud, guttural snarl chilled me to the bone. The luminous eyes of the monster, if it could be called that, were fixed on me as it stood a few feet away. Tendrils of black mist curled around its limbs as its twisted body altered.

"Freya!" As he pushed me away, Finnick's voice echoed.

The creature's claws slammed into the earth, inches from me. The stone began to break because of the impact. Debris and dust flew.

Dorian was on his feet already, sword up. His blade sliced into the creature's side as he struck quickly.

In a cold, strange movement, it turned its head to face Dorian. Then it attacked in a flurry of motion.

Just a second before, Dorian rolled away as the creature's claws raked the earth where he stood. Under his breath, he swore.

"It's not dying," he said firmly. "It is similar to—"

Chapter 72: Sahadow-Marked