Login via

Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It’s a good thing my grandfather’s dead; he’d die if he saw me now.

“Keep walking, mutt.”

The prison guard shoves me from behind and I stumble forward into the sunlight.

Outside the gates are two alphas.

One was my love. One was my best friend.

They’re both the reason I was left here to rot.

__________

“Stop!” I tell the guard. “I don’t want to go out this way.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He shoves me. “All you females get attached. I got no time for trash like you. Get a move on!” He shoves me again and I stumble to my knees.

The snow bites through my clothes, chilling me to the bone.

It’s been three years.

Three years in this hell-hole, fending off daily assaults, and constrained to a cage with no warmth.

They’d bound me in silver for so long I was severed from my wolf. I still mourn that loss.

Our regeneration powers. The ferocity she gave me to fight. The freedom I felt in my true form, when I could run and be free…If I had my wolf, I’d attack this lowly guard. But without her, I’m just another weak human. The guard kicks me in the ribs. Not hard enough to break them; just enough to remind he holds the power here.

“Move it,” he growls at me.

I push to my feet and walk along the barbed-wire fence. Funny, I’ve dreamed of this day from the moment I was imprisoned. But now, seeing the two Alphas who wait for me, everything tells me to run back and hide.

“Grace!” Jacob yells.

I turn away from Alpha Jacob who leans against his Maybach, his dark hair styled and his clothes impeccable despite the snow and sleet. Jacob was my best friend. We grew up in the same pack. I’d known him all my life. He eventually became an alpha and an attorney. The same lawyer who prosecuted me.

Then… there was Alpha Sean.

I hate Sean even more—if that’s possible. His eyes are bright and focused on me, his expression cold. The wind musses his hair in the most perfect way. He’s tall, strong, and so handsome it hurts.

Sean was my first and only love.

My mate.

Father of my baby…

I swipe away my tears and keep walking.

“Grace!” he calls, no doubt he’s furious that I’m ignoring him.

But I keep walking.

“Wait.” This time it’s Jacob.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine