As Yet Untitled

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Summary

What happens to your mind when your mother, the one person who you spent your entire life around, is killed before your eyes. It crushes you. As a werewolf it is almost ten times worse, our feelings are more enhanced than a human's. I am part of a pack now though, so every cloud has a silver lining right? Not really. But then I meet my family, and shit gets incredibly complicated. (Sorry I suck at writing descriptions but please check this out, I promise it's not as cliche as it sounds) Also warning you now this contains strong language and some gory scenes with extreme violence

Genre:
Fantasy / Action
Author:
Hell's Books
Status:
Complete
Chapters:
47
Rating:
4.8 23 reviews
Age Rating:
16+

Chapter 1

I grit my teeth against the pain, refusing to let my cries fill the empty room. It would only give him greater satisfaction. The whip cracked against my back once more continuing to shred the skin. “Stop.” I finally grunted out, not being able to bear the pain any longer. In return I got a deep chuckle and another lash from the whip.

“Are you sure you want me to stop? You weren’t very polite? Perhaps I need to whip some manners into you.” He stated darkly, cracking the whip against my back once more. Knowing he wouldn’t stop without me saying it, I inwardly groaned.

“Father, I beg of you, please… allow me some time to heal before continuing with my punishment. Perhaps, just an hour?” I gritted out trying to sound polite so as not to receive any more lashes.

“Oh! An hour, is that all? Perhaps you would like me to run you a warm bath as well? And let you eat all the food in the fridge?” he questioned sarcastically. Then he grabbed a hold of the dirty red mess that is my hair and yanked my head back so I could look at him instead of the wall. The force of him pulling my head back, also causing the chains to rub on the already raw skin of my wrists. “Well perhaps you should have thought of that before you got yourself caught on a mission as important as the one I just sent you on!” he yelled in my face, before slamming my head into the dirty stone wall in front of me. The world slowly faded to black as I passed out.

~~~*~~~

While I am passed out I might as well introduce myself. My name is Christiana Killoran, I’m 17 years old and the top fighter in my pack, not that that’s a difficult title to acquire, there are only about thirty people in my pack. In case you haven’t guessed I’m, what you would probably call, a werewolf, but don’t tell anyone else that because in this pack, and all over the country, actually, they believe I’m a hybrid (a human with some wolf abilities but no power to shift my form into that of a wolf). In actual fact, I’m a pure-blooded werewolf. However if I were to tell anyone in this pack I would end up doing more work than I already do and most likely doing the jobs alone. You probably think working alone is better, and yes in some cases it is, but most of the time me being ‘human’ keeps me alive. If other Alphas knew father’s greatest weapon was actually a wolf they would be far more weary of me. Plus I get a few ‘guards’ for when I’m on a job. Something I’ve come to see as a benefit, especially when my job involves killing anyone father wishes me to kill, or stealing artefacts from other packs, or kidnapping powerful werewolves’ mates. This, now that I mention it, leads to where I am now. I was sent on a mission to kidnap the Beta of the Dark Night pack’s mate. This would be one of the times when having a ‘guard’ sucks for me. The idiot drew attention to us and it ended with him dead and me being taken as a prisoner. Father had to send in a squad to rescue me, something he hates doing, and if he has to do something he doesn’t like it is my fault, so I get sent down to this basement/dungeon and get beaten or whipped or tortured in any way he feels is appropriate punishment.

You’re probably wondering why my father is beating me. The answer is: he isn’t. The father I referred to earlier isn’t my actual father. My biological father is living his life with some bitch who isn’t his mate. My biological father is Alpha of some big pack but decided that after getting my mother pregnant he didn’t want her. My biological father saw her shift one time and once he knew what she was he rejected her and mated with some other bitch. My mother died protecting us when I was twelve. She had to fight in human form because they shot a silver dart at her before they attacked. The silver weakened her wolf even more than it had been from losing her mate, and she was unable to hold off the attackers.

However for the first twelve years of my life, she had fortunately taught me to control my wolf side, and to hide my scent in such a way that I smelt human. She raised me and did everything she could to keep me safe, this included keeping a huge supply of coloured contacts to help hide our true identity. Oh, that’s another thing I should tell you, I have blood red eyes which match my hair and wolf. There is only one type of wolf with red eyes in both forms; Hell Hounds. Literally, the most feared type of werewolf around, meaning, if anyone found out, I would be killed or forced to kill many more. Father would likely have me wipe out entire packs in his name so that he could be the most powerful Alpha.

However, I digress. You probably want to know why I call the man who beats me within an inch of my life, father. There are two reasons, firstly, I refuse to call such an unworthy creature Alpha, and secondly it was because he found me after my mother died, he forced me to join his pack because his mate liked me and said she always wanted a daughter. He was nice to me at first and I was somewhat happy with them, but then his mate died giving birth to his heir. After her death he began training me to fight and beat me every time I did something wrong. I grew up very quickly after that.

I am now, apparently, the most feared ‘human’ in the supernatural world. I don’t entirely believe that but that is what my only friend, Luci, says. He claims that he is my guardian angel, although I disagree. He spends a lot of time travelling the world, occasionally popping in to say hi to me and ask for my help, or coming to my aid when I need it. That doesn’t happen very often though, because he usually makes me pray to him if I need help, and in my opinion that’s too close to begging him, but I still use him as a last resort.

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