TWISTED FATES BOOK 1: THE FIRST TWIST Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1 I’m Mated to an Alpha

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Chapter 1 I’m Mated to an Alpha

  WARNING: PLEASE NOTE THIS BOOK IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. IT CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF SEXUAL NATURE, STRONG LANGUAGE, AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE – I DO NOT CONDONE THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOR, NOR AM I TRYING TO GLAMORIZE IT. STILL, IT IS AN ELEMENT OF MY STORY.

  READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

  Sammie's POV

  So, I know what you're probably thinking. The title of my story says it all – mated to an Alpha; presumably, life for me should be all exciting because I'm with a sexy badass Alpha?

  Nay, Nay my friends.

  Recently, in fact, life with my Alpha has been quite the opposite.

  My name is Samantha Hunter, but I go by Sam or Sammie to everyone who knows me. Only not Samantha: for some reason, being called by that always gives me the chills and makes me feel a LOT older than I am.

  For the most part, I'm just a normal 24-year old girl, aside from the fact that I am currently in a relationship with a werewolf/former Alpha named Devon Montgomery. Okay, maybe not the most normal girl, but what can I say potay-to, potah-to; it’s all in how you look at things.

  As I was saying, I'm just a "normal" 24-year-old girl. I have long fiery red hair that lands right below my shoulder blades, admittedly not my natural color; I was inspired by The Little Mermaid when I was younger, and I have emerald green eyes – those are natural. I may be a little vertically challenged with my menial height of 5'2, but with my vibrant crimson colored locks, I bet you'd be able to find me better than Waldo from a block away.

  Oh, and did I mention, I also tend to be a bit of a smart ass. It's part of my charm – to know me is to love me. At least that's what I believe.

  Even though I have bright red hair and bright green eyes, I have never made the mistake of wearing red and green together. I personally do not feel that looking like a walking poster board for Santa's elves would be considered fashion-forward. Nay, Nay my friends.

  To be perfectly honest, I made that detrimental mistake once in the ninth grade, the week before winter break.

  As you may have guessed by my *cough* positive opinion, this resulted in, to say the least, a not so good outcome.

  Since I'm so short, the football team decided to kidnap me and place me high up on top of the school's Trophy Cabinet, which happened to be located right in the main building's entryway. To further their immature little joke, the jerks placed a banner beneath me, and I was labeled Elf on a Shelf. Principal Johnstone was not too happy, but since I wasn't actually hurt per se, the jerks that did it only got a week's detention. Too bad that stupid nickname haunted me for the rest of the year. Ish

  To be honest, I was pretty pissed off, not only at the dumb jocks for, well, obviously condemning me to finish my senior year with a constant reminder of my humiliation, but I was also majorly peeved at Principal Johnstone as well. Not that I was out for blood or something. I just didn't appreciate how, simply because I was some minor character at my school and the jocks were the power players, they were pretty much given a free pass at everything.

  Was I hurt physically? No.

  Mentally? Hell yeah.

  Despite everything, I wasn't someone who was very outgoing. I guess you could say I was kind of a nerd. I mean, I wasn't bullied or anything; I was just ignored by everyone other than my small circle of friends. I guess losing both my parents by the time I had entered High School had made me a little guarded. Granted, I really loved my foster mom, but she had troubles of her own with her recent divorce mid-way through my senior year. Luckily, I was already eighteen, so there was no threat of me being placed in another home when she asked me to continue living with her for as long as I needed. I loved Isabelle, and my two adopted twin siblings, Mathias and Maximilian, but I understood that she was now a single mom. Times were hard enough for her without an additional mouth to have to worry about, even if she acted as if I was no bother. My main priorities were intensely focused on my studies. I knew I wanted to go to college and was well aware Isabelle couldn't afford to send me, so my only hope was to get the best grades I could and earn scholarships.

  So being me, I had to ignore the taunts and jeers and push on. I may have been labeled the Elf on the Shelf in my High school yearbook, but I still managed to get a full ride at my college of choice.

  Yep, guess there is a Santa Clause, after all, Virginia.

  The funny thing about my traumatic high school memory is that before Devon first set eyes on me, he told me that I reminded him of Christmas, not just because of my hair and eyes but because of my scent.

  Oh, the irony.

  Apparently, all mates have their own unique scent that attracts them to their mate; for Devon and his wolf, Slade, I smelled of warm cinnamon and spice chai with whipped cream; a drink his mother and him used to share every Christmas morning until she passed away when he was twelve. Once he got to know me, though, he came up with a spicier nickname. Evidently, the combination of my spitfire personality, short stature, and bright red hair reminded him of a little cherry bomb; I was little but packed a big punch. Devon tried a couple of times to impart the nickname of cherry bomb upon me, but I was never a fan of that term. Thus he opted to call me his "little firecracker" instead, which I didn't mind as much. It was a special term of endearment that Devon would use, mostly in the bedroom, but it stuck.

  Devon Montgomery and I have been together for a little over three years, not too long after turning 21. I had just completed my final semester at the U of M and was blowing off steam with my then BFF, Jay Sommers. It was New Year's Eve. Jay and I were going to celebrate at some upscale, ultra-elite night club that he happened to score VIP passes for, due to his job as an assistant to the assistant producer for some indie film that had just wrapped up its shoot. Since opportunities like this didn't usually come around too often, I totally jumped at the chance of indulging myself in a little fun and innocent flirting with the elite patrons of such an exclusive establishment. Having a VIP pass was the cherry on top.

  I was joining Jay as his plus one for the evening, which made for a fabulous time. I had been busting my ass for the last three and a half years, with a full class load, just so that I could graduate a semester sooner. I had been studying for a degree in Sports Physical Therapy, so I deserved to let loose for once – and boy did I ever. This night is where I discovered my love for the Cosmo and the deliciously sinful Devon Montgomery.

  That was the night when everything in my life changed.

  That was the night when I learned that the creatures that existed in movies and romance novels were actually real.

  That was the night when I happened to meet my illustrious Alpha man.

  For me, it was lust at first sight; I was a bit tipsy. But, for Devon, it was more than that. He once told me that the moment he saw me, his wolf howled so loudly within the confines of his min
d, scratching to get at his mate, that it was all Devon could do not to pick me up, throw me over his shoulder all caveman-like and make me his right then and there. Luckily, Devon was a lot more subtle than that, though. I'm not too sure how I would have taken to being flung over his massive broad shoulders, considering we had literally just set eyes on each other. But that was Devon; he was an Alpha and had no qualms about taking what was his, which admittedly, I was.

  Chapter 2

  Sammie's POV

  At the beginning of our life together, it took a long time for me to get acclimated to the whole wolf pack lifestyle, even more so since I was always around a bunch of testoserony (my word it fits) ruffians, who were his pack members. But I was consumed with Devon. I knew that if he were with me, I could endure anything. So after some time, eventually, his pack actually warmed up to me. I was happy we could all get along, mainly because our relationship went from zero to sixty in mere moments. Even though everything supernatural was new to me, I adapted and accepted it with an open mind. Not to say I didn't freak out at first cuz, I mean, yeah - I'm human and all. But I got past it, especially when I found out that my BFF Dasha was actually a witch. Who knew?

  I immediately became a permanent fixture at the packhouse. The concept of obtaining a job in the profession I studied for all my college career got tossed onto the back burner. I tried to find little things to keep myself busy, but it was generally a failure since I am human, and I wasn't really familiar with their culture. Sometimes, I was able to use my training to help Devon and his pack members in the event of an injury. Although, I think they only asked me for help to humor their alpha's mate because their healing is actually like a zillion times faster than normal humans. But it was sweet none the less.

  I can honestly say life with Dev for the first couple of years were the best of times for me. They may not have been perfect, but then again, what is?

  I was happy with what we had. Granted, there was the occasional incident with jealous she-wolves who had felt I was not deserving of Dev, but he, his Beta, and Gamma would always have my back. Yeah, sometimes I'd feel insecure that I couldn't stand up to those she-hulks that wanted to gnaw on my neck like a KFC chicken bone, but I knew it was merely par for the course. Devon would always reassure me that I was his and he was mine and that once we completed the mating ceremony, the Moon Goddess would bless me with my own wolf. I was both excited and nervous at the prospect of becoming a werewolf and hoped I would be one strong enough to make Devon proud to have by his side.

  So, I tolerated the jealousy and glares of many, many rivals for the affections of my Alpha mate as time passed on,

  and on,

  and on ...

  **********************************************************

  Despite being together these few years, I can honestly say even with the mate bond we supposedly share. I am still human. Of course, Devon had stopped showing any sense of urgency when it came to actually mark me as his official mate and Luna.

  I think his hesitance was when everything started to go to hell in a handbasket between us. It was his rejection towards changing me and bonding us together, in the most literal sense, within his high maintenance world, that would inevitably be the wedge that drove us apart.

  At first, I completely understood and submitted to his reluctance whenever he asked that I be "patient" with him. I tried for like a long time – and I am NOT a "patient" person, people.

  But then, it was like a never-ending roadblock with no relief in sight. Devon always had some excuse for why he wouldn't mark me; like telling me that it wasn't "safe" because of his pack, or me being human might not fare so well with the mark, or I was too young to make that kind of commitment, yadda, yadda, yadda.

  You get the idea.

  Eventually, we'd just end up getting into little disagreements over his refusal to mark me. Being the sap that I am, I would look past my lack of confidence and just let it fall to the wayside because of my love for Devon. Although, it almost seemed as though there was more to his reasoning than what he was telling me. Unfortunately, that is when things between us took a turn for the worse.

  Last year, Devon "decided" that he no longer wanted to be a pack leader or member, for that matter. He was going rogue, and he was going to mainstream into human society – basically, he was going to try and adapt to living as a "human." So, Devon made a life-changing decision that affected us both, without even talking to me about it. Obviously, this TOTALLY irritated me. I mean, when did this relationship become one-sided?

  Ish.

  I was blindsided, to say the least. Without so much as a warning, my mate just decided that we were no longer going to reside in the unrestrained world of the supernatural, which, might I remind you all, took a long time for me to get used to. Rather, Devon stated that he and I were moving to a new home where we would live as two ordinary "human" beings.

  BO-RING – boy, did that cause one whopper of an argument, my friends.

  Since then, my life has been pretty mundane, to say the least. It wasn’t only because we were living outside of pack life and all that came with it, but also how it affected Devon both physically and mentally. I know most people think that werewolves have this uber metabolism and are fit like Greek Gods or something – well, let me tell you, it turns out that if they don't shift, they don't stay that way.

  Fact.

  Devon completely conformed to the human world. He opened his own garage and spent most days working on cars and running his business, while lucky me got to do all the clerical duties around the office. Of course, I could only work so many hours during the day because I still needed to be able to leave early enough so that I could go home, clean the house, and make dinner.

  YEAH – somehow, I got slapped back to the 1950s without even knowing it.

  Tuna Casserole, anyone?

  I guess everything was cool for a while, though. I mean, I had Devon all to myself, and honestly, sex was always PHENOMENAL!

  But as I said, things changed.

  Devon stopped shifting altogether. Some may not know this, but when you eat like a TON of carbs and pretty much just chillax on a recliner all night, even copious amounts of sexual activity aren't going to burn enough calories to prevent the fact, their now protruding belly looked like they were well into their second trimester.

  Double ish

  Do NOT get me wrong, I cherished this man, but he REALLY let himself go. If you ever saw the last Avengers movie, which more than likely you did, picture Thor after the blip; if you don't know what I'm talking about, Google it. Gone are his lean muscles and rock-hard abs. Gone are the wild ebony locks that were worn in such an effortless way, as if he just woke up that day looking like that but actually went to a salon to have done. Gone is his once sexy five o'clock shadow, which now resembled more of a Duck Dynasty appearance. The only thing that didn't change was his Australian accent, which, while still a major turn-on, just couldn't make up for the rest of his neglected outward appearance. Still lovable, yes but sexy?

  Hmm ... maybe not so much.

  BTW peeps, no judgment, please. Roles reversed; you'd probably think the same - wink-wink.

  I had even hoped that I could shift his attention to anything other than his own body's vegetative development. I mean, the man literally looked like he was living off Twinkies and beer. Which may I advise you all, the aftereffects from this type of lifestyle are not the most advantageous physique for neither a human nor a werewolf who doesn't shift. I often tried to get Devon to join me on a few of my daily workouts in our home gym or even to swim a few laps in the lake outside of our home. Despite everything, even I managed to find the time to do it regardless of my busy schedule in order to keep my body in check.

  Sadly though, all I'd ever acquire from my multitude of requests was a grumble and maybe an occasional "where's the remote so I can watch blah, blah, blah, while you're doing your thing?" Ish.

  Sex was probably the closest form of a workout I could entice o
ut of him, and even that was becoming a faded memory. I was eventually pleasuring myself more than Devon was.

  Please work with me, people; I'm 24, not 104!

  So here we are, me a pitiful human, mated (kind of?) to a clearly unhappy former Alpha werewolf living a not so life of bliss.