https://jobnib.com/book/the-mark-of-betrayal
Two completed novels in one link. Couldn't get the opening text to copy. Happy reading!
Out of Hell
“Number Ten, your two years are up. Your family’s here to take you home.”
Finally… In the dim room, one flickering bulb swung overhead.
Tracy Yarwood was curled up in a corner. She lifted her head at the sound.
It was the first time in a long while that her dirty face showed any emotion. Angelic Etiquette Academy.
That was what they call this place, though there was nothing angelic inside.
It was like hell. Here, her “teachers” scolded and hit her. Her “classmates” bullied and tortured her.
Every single day felt as long as a century. She never let her guard down for a second.
One slip and someone could set her up. Can’t believe it’s been just two years.
Tracy was dragged out of the room like a lifeless doll and led down a long hallway.
She didn’t really feel it until the iron door slammed shut behind her and the sun burned her eyes.
After two years of trying to escape and nearly dying more times than she could count, Tracy was finally free.
“Tracy?” A voice suddenly pulled her back to reality.
https://wordens.wogame.store/series/inside-youll-find-hate-to-love/
Chapter One – One Year Too Many
Elara’s POV
Snow had been falling since morning, soft and heavy, turning the Montana mountains into powdered sugar peaks. The Ashthorne Pack’s territory looked like something out of a postcard — all crisp air, frosted pines, and curling smoke from lodge chimneys.
–
It should have been the perfect night.
I was supposed to meet Kaleb Morvan at the pack lodge’s private dining room for our first anniversary. He’d been insistent about making it “special.” His exact words: Dress up for me, Elara. I want tonight to be unforgettable.
So I had.
—
My long, dark hair was swept into loose waves that brushed the open back of my deep green dress the one that hugged at the waist and flared just enough to make me feel like my hips might be worth noticing. My bright gray eyes, framed with a little more mascara than usual, looked back at me in the reflection of the lodge’s polished glass doors with a mix of nerves and hope. A light dusting of freckles crossed my nose, barely visible under makeup. I’d even worn heels in
the snow – stupid, romantic me.
The plan was dinner, maybe a dance by the fireplace if the lodge wasn’t too busy, and then… well, I’d let myself imagine what “unforgettable” might mean.
But as I stepped into the warm, pine-scented foyer, something pricked at my instincts that quiet little warning every wolf learns to listen to. The air carried more than the smell of woodsmoke and roast venison. There was something sharper underneath… perfume. Sweet, cloying, and not mine.
I followed it past the empty front desk and down the hall toward the private rooms. The door to the farthest one was cracked open.
A low laugh floated out – feminine, familiar. My stomach dipped.
I pushed the door open the rest of the way.
—
Kaleb was there, back to me at first, his tall frame leaning against the dining table. His dark hair the kind that always fell just right without trying — caught the amber glow of the overhead light. Broad shoulders filled his navy shirt, sleeves rolled to show tanned forearms. I’d always thought he looked like the poster boy for rugged charm.
Now he looked like a liar.
Because pressed against him, her manicured hands tangled in his hair, was Mira Ashthorne – Alpha Marcus’s youngest daughter.
Her rose-pink dress was bunched high on one thigh, her golden-brown curls spilling down her bare shoulders. She was laughing into his mouth like my heart wasn’t currently shattering two feet away.
It took a full two seconds before either of them noticed me.
Kaleb’s hazel eyes flicked up first, widening. “Elara-”
Mira turned lazily, as if I’d interrupted a boring conversation instead of my own anniversary date. Her green eyes glittered with satisfaction. “Oops.”
I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me. “Oops?” My voice came out calm, which was impressive, considering my pulse was hammering in my ears.
https://wordhouse.jobssuv.com/series/that-never-made-it-to-my-finger/
Chapter 1
Elara’s POV
I never imagined I’d see my husband, Alpha Kiran, again just thirty minutes after my miscarriage.
And I certainly never imagined it would be like this—through a half-open hospital room door, watching him cradle another woman in his arms with a tenderness I’d never known.
His first love. Celeste.
She looked up from the hospital bed, fragile and scared. The light caught the faint but unmistakable curve of her stomach beneath the gown.
She was pregnant.
A fresh, tearing cramp ripped through my lower abdomen. Deep inside, my wolf—weak from blood loss and pain—let out a dying whimper only I could hear.
“Get every specialist in this hospital up here, “Kiran’s voice carried from the room, tense and careful in a way I’d never heard. “Run every test. I want her and the baby one hundred percent secure.”
My breath hitched.
Just hours ago, in this same hospital, I’d been the one on a cold table, listening to a doctor tell me with professional pity, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Blackwood. After three hours, we couldn’t stabilize the fetal heartbeat.”
And the thirteen calls I’d made to Kiran, pleading… those glaring “Declined” notifications were still sitting in my phone.
“This suite is reserved for Mr. Blackwood’s mate,” a guard said coldly from the doorway, looking right past me. “You need to leave. Now.”
Mr. Blackwood’s… mate?
Then what was I?
I opened my mouth, but my throat was full of hot sand. Only a faint rasp came out.
I’d cried myself dry on the operating table. Hours of desperate, silent screaming had left me hollow.
My wheelchair was immediately turned around. I looked up.
The nurse looked uncomfortable. she whispered to me: “I’m sorry, Mrs. Blackwood. Mr. Blackwood specifically reserved this room for Miss Rivers. And the hospital is full, let me take you out of the hospital.”
Out of hospital? Right after I had my abortion?
Minutes later, I stood alone outside the hospital’s main entrance like discarded trash, people flowing around me.
No one asked if I wanted to leave the hospital. When the wheelchair was pushed out, I just sat there. Kiran’s back, as he held Celeste, had already explained everything to the pack.
Insignificant.
Me.
The wind drove the rain sideways, soaking my pants legs. A bone-deep cold crept up from my ankles, locking my joints.
I got my phone out of my bag, hands shaking so badly I could barely hold it. I ordered an Uber.
I went back to the place we called “home”.
Warmth enveloped me instantly. But my body was still shaking.
I grabbed a jacket from the wardrobe and put it on. In the corner, a flash of cartoon fabric — baby clothes.
Three months. I’d planned to tell him after three months.
No need.
The tiny life that had been connected to me was just… gone. Leaving a dark, painful void.
Ding!
My phone rang. Kiran flashed on the screen.
“Where are you?” His voice was ice. “Elara, don’t tell me you forgot what today is!”
I paused, looking at the clock on the wall.
The fifteenth. The mandatory monthly family dinner at the pack house, demanded by Walter Blackwood, his grandfather.
I pressed my cracked lips together. “I’m not feeling well tonight. You can go to the dinner without me.”
“Save it. “Kiran sounded like he’d heard the most ridiculous joke. “Aren’t you always the first to show up at these family dinners? All that scheming to marry me—just so you could play ‘Mrs. Blackwood’ in front of everyone?”
“Don’t waste my time. Just send me your location. I’m sending a car.”
It’s an order, not a question.
I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s not an excuse.… I’m really sick.”
My voice was so faint I could barely hear it myself. How could he not hear it?
“Elara, I’m warning you—don’t test my patience! You’re coming to the pack house, dead or alive—crawl if you have to!”
I didn’t answer, just hung up. One more second of his voice and I’d have shattered, told him everything.
There was no point.
I wouldn’t whimper. I wouldn’t beg for scraps of his attention like a wounded she-wolf.
Minutes later, I was dressed and standing outside in the biting wind, waiting.
And hours later, a black Maybach finally pulled up. Kiran’s driver got out and opened the rear door respectfully. “Luna, please get in.”
There was plenty of room in the back. Kiran sat on the far side, motionless, like a sculpture.
Distant. Cold.
I looked at him and could only see him holding Celeste at the hospital—with a tenderness never meant for me.
I bowed my head and slid into the car.
Just as the car pulled away, his phone rang.
He answered instantly, his voice thawing from ice to something warm. “Celeste? You should be asleep.”
A pause. “Yes, it’ll be over soon. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Order anything you want from the kitchen. Just don’t get up—the doctor said absolute rest. Keep warm, okay?”
I listened, silent. So he did know how to be gentle.
The car’s heater was blasting, but I felt a cold that went straight to my bones.
The call went on for a long time. After he hung up, the car fell deadly silent again.
I couldn’t help it. “Celeste… when did she get back?”
Kiran’s brows drew together. He turned to me, as if finally remembering I existed.
“Not your place to ask that, Elara.”
A dull ache spread across my chest.
Right. What right did I have?
In his eyes, I was the villain who stole his love, who forced this marriage. He hated me. Despised me. Wished I’d vanish.
If it weren’t for what happened back then…
No.
I shut my eyes, pushing everything back where it belonged.
In my chest, my wolf is whimpering—deeply, sorrowfully.
Like a farewell.
Kiran, this will probably be the last family dinner I ever attend with you.