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The Darke Wolf: A Dark Werewolf Fantasy (The Broken Immortals Book 7)

The Darke Wolf: A Dark Werewolf Fantasy (The Broken Immortals Book 7)

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Main Tropes

  • Dark Fantasy with a Dose of Steamy Romance
  • Fated Mates
  • Witches and Werewolves

Synopsis

A woman who suddenly wakes up in a strange land, an ancient warlock with a nasty reputation, and a bond she doesn't want but just can't resist…

When Gretchen learns she can never ever go home again, she embarks on a journey to find her family already living in the Realm of the Supernaturals.

A dark presence that haunted her dreams for weeks now stalks her night and day in this upside-down world.

When she finally finds the courage to confront him, Gretchen is taken captive by the dark figure from her nightmares.

After escaping, she tries to put the ordeal out of her mind and get on with her new life. But Damien isn't a man who will be ignored and forgotten.

Will Gretchen ever shake the man who terrorizes her, or will they be forever tormented by the ghosts of the past?

Intro into Chapter One

A tattooed foot squished into the black bathmat when she stepped out of the shower. The hand adorned in her pack’s markings tucked in the front of the towel holding in her muscular body.

Golden-brown hair fluffed around her face as she scrunched her curls in her palms in the steamy mirror, and a deep voice called out from the bedroom. “So, what are we watching tonight, babe?”

Only the thought of going to bed sent a jolt of heat through her veins. Every night, the same dream haunted her, and Gretchen did her best to keep herself awake. “How about something scary?”

The human who waited for her, wrapped up in a white down blanket, shook his head at his Lycan fiancée through the door that parted them. For nearly a month now, he awoke to her frantic screams and cries for help. “You think that’s a good idea? Your nightmare game has been strong the past couple of weeks.”

Though her green eyes stared at her reflection, all that appeared before her in the mirror was the man in black who reached out to her. The light switch poked between her knuckles as she backed away from the familiar figure. When the overhead fixture dimmed, her tired eyes bobbed shut for a moment.

Every day, she worked hard to make herself known to her pack as a tough leader. But she was a crying, trembling mess at night. “It’s so weird. I have this dream about being chased by some man wearing an old-timey cloak.”

After he tossed the remote on the nightstand, Keith clasped his fingers behind his head. “No kidding. You scream out his name more than you do mine.” A high-pitched voice sang out as he mocked her. “Oh, Damien.”

“This isn’t funny.” A sharp whack echoed through the bedroom as she slapped his arm when she crawled into bed. “I’m not sure why, but I think he’s trying to kill me. The crazy part is, I keep running toward him, anyway.”

The palms of his hands squished her ass cheeks in them as he guided her over his hips. “I think he wants to fuck you, Gretch. I can’t say I blame him; I’ve been thinking about doing the same thing all day myself.”

“Is that so?” The towel dropped from her when she yanked the closure loose. “Well, I guess ole Damien will have to wait his turn tonight. Won’t he?”

The man below her was graced with one of the most perfect bodies she ever had the pleasure of riding. But every time his eyes met hers, she only saw the man from her dreams. Even though his face was always fuzzy, his nearly black eyes reached out to her night after night.

A hand like the finest milk chocolate wrapped around her neck, and Gretchen recalled the night before when her nightmare gripped her in his palm how she cried out into the dimly lit bedroom.

Every pulsing throb between her legs was meant for another, and her heart was crushed when she opened her eyes and only found Keith staring back at her.

The man who terrorized her every night was all she thought about, and part of her was sick about how he thrilled her.

Soft snores vibrated the bed as Gretchen laid on her sleeping lover’s arm, but distant cries called out to her through the noise. “Wake up, my love.” No matter how he tried to will her to obey from the other side of all things, the werewolf’s eyes knitted shut, anyway.

Barefoot, she stood on a dirt path in only her panties and the thin tank top she went to bed in, and she rubbed her arms to warm them. The same stretch of road surrounded by woods and ancient stone ruins always met her.

The wind blew through the leaves, and the trees wailed for her to hurry along. Although as soon as she reached the long ago burned-out shack, the haunting howls of wolves pierced the darkness.

From every direction, they called to her, and even though the ambush point never changed, she rushed toward danger as quickly as her legs would carry her. The dark man’s fiery touch was the only light in her dead world, and she sought him out despite her fear.

Only tonight, no matter how fast she ran to him, she never quite reached his fingertips. “Wake up now.”

From behind her, a flurry of footsteps beat against the path. The two massive black Lycans who always accompanied her dream lover leaped from the woods on either side of her. Squeals and screams and the sounds of ripping flesh followed her as the wolves fought off her stalkers, but the hooded figure held out his hand to her. “Wake up.”

Just as their fingers met, his other hand wrapped around her neck and slammed her to the cold ground to shake her from her fantasy. “Wake up, now. They’re coming.”

The curse was already spoken over her body when her eyes snapped open to the sound of the bedroom door crashing into the wall. “Ceangailim thú Lycan.”

With her powers bound and her ability to shift lingering above her, she was as helpless as the day of her birth to stop the black-clad people who surrounded them. In her mind, she cried out to the pack-link and her family, who slept across town until fingers wrapped themselves in her curly hair.

Like a floppy rag doll, her limp body followed along as the cloaked intruder dragged her from the mattress and dropped her to the braided carpet lining the wood floor.

A knife blade landed inches from her nose into the floorboard, and a foreign tongue taunted her. “A daughter for a daughter.”

Dusky eyes stared back at her from under the hood, and after he wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, a finger pointed at her. “Keep your eyes open, young one. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

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