All Chapters of Revenge on Blackmoon Pack : Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

Jasmine’s POV. “Please don’t say that”, I whimpered as I stared at my mate in shock, sure that if I had a wolf, she would be howling in pain at the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I’m an Alpha”, he said. “An Alpha of one of the strongest packs in our world. It would be seen as the ultimate mark of weakness to have a mate that is without rank and a wolf”, he told me, looking me over with his decision clear in his eyes. I looked away and resisted the urge to curl into a ball and sob, instead distracting myself with anything that came to mind. That was probably why I blurted out the first question that came to my mind. “How did you know?” I asked, staring down at my feet in shame. “Bianca told me”, he said and my head whipped up so fast since that wasn’t the answer I had been expecting. “What?” I asked in surprise. “How does she know that?” Before he could respond however, the snotty voice that belonged to the witch in question came from the open door be

Jasmine’s POV The darkness of the hole gave way to another darkness that soon engulfed me. Howling sounds pulled me from the darkness this time and when I came to, I looked around and realised that I was in the same room my mate had all but rejected me in. I was still sprawled out on the cold floor and from the tight muscle pains that radiated all over my body and the cold I could feel in my bones, I knew I had been passed out for a while. It had been a dream. A dream I hadn’t had in a very long time. One that felt more like a memory than a dream but I could never be too sure. The only thing that made me think it was not just a dream was the fact that my guardian was a man with a scar under his left eye. Other than that, I had no clue on anything else. I shifted from my position, a groan escaping my cold, chapped lips as I brought myself to sit on the cold floor. I could still hear the several howls that had pulled me out of my unconsciousness. The clear dif

Jasmine’s POV I couldn’t muster the ability to care that I was now sprawled out on the floor of the wooden cabin I had been unceremoniously dumped in two days before. I had been brought here after my mate had pronounced my sentence and I had cried my eyes out. As I laid out on the cold floor, allowing the cold to seep into my bones and ignoring the second plate of oatmeal and dried fish that had been brought earlier by one of the guards of my cabin prison, I discovered an emotion that was though strange, yet comforting. That emotion was anger. I had gone through several emotions since being thrown into the cabin. The first was pain. Literal pain from the injuries I had sustained while being rough handled and treated like a criminal, and emotional pain from all that I had gone through. The second was shock because I could not believe that it was all really happening. I wished I was evil enough to have done what I was accused of but I was not. The next was heartbr