saltedpepper

She was an omega everyone could bully—a wolf without a wolf. In her pack, Penelope lived a life worse than a servant, clinging to the naive hope that some chivalrous savior would descend from the heavens. What she never realized was that her true protector had been beside her all along.

At her debut ball, fate dealt her a cruel joke: her destined Mate turned out to be the same man idolized by millions—a man whose touch promised ruin. Giddy with euphoria, she raced toward what she believed was her fairytale ending, only to plummet into an abyss of betrayal.

When courage finally spurred her to act, it cost her everything—even her memories. Years later, a man claiming to be her Mate reentered her life, his devotion unwavering… until her past resurfaced, revealing him as Austin, her stepbrother—a man who’d coveted her from the shadows.

Now torn between the dream lover who shattered her and the liar who remade her, Penelope faces an impossible choice:

Whose hand will she take?

***

[Excerpt]

"Penelope Woods."

"Ah... Yes?" My breath hitched as wetness pooled under his touch.

"Do you want to be my Luna?"

"...Yes..."

"Such a good girl." Zayn's lips brushed my ear as he whispered coldly, "But you don't have a wolf."

The contrast was jarring—our bodies so close, our movements so intimate, yet his words were like ice, draining all warmth from me in an instant. I was frozen, unable to move.

***

CONTENT WARNING: This experimental narrative contains graphic depictions of violence, bloodshed, and explicit sexual content. Viewer discretion is advised.

HER POSSESSIVE MATE

If you could choose to return to any moment in your past, when would you choose? After Penelope and my father died, I asked myself this question countless times - no, to be precise, I've been asking myself this every single day of what remains of my miserable existence.

My answer varies, but there's one constant thread connecting all my imagined returns - every moment I choose to revisit exists before Penelope reached adulthood.

I've been psychologically frozen in that cursed year when I lost them both. My soul stopped keeping time when theirs ceased to beat. While the world moved forward, I remained trapped in that endless summer of grief, my heart buried alongside their coffins.

A trap