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House Of Wolves: Cruel Boys Of Nightfall Prep

House Of Wolves: Cruel Boys Of Nightfall Prep

Author:Arden West

Finished

Werewolf

Introduction
Rejection stings. I’d know because that's exactly what happened to me. My future mate, and lifelong best friend, decided to throw me to the wolves. Literally. To make it worse, he chose my sister over me as his mate right in front of the entire pack. In order to spare themselves the embarrassment of my downfall, my parents sent me off to Nightfall preparatory school in hopes it would redeem my reputation. Because that was what rich people did when their kids failed them. My name is Kat Winterborne, and I’m known as the girl that got rejected by her mate. The moment I stepped into those halls the cruel kings of the Nightfall set their sights on me. Archer, Julian, Reed, and Gage. Bred from hellfire, demon-spawned wolves—out to cast me into damnation for simply doing what I thought was right. How fair was that? I refuse to break and bow to their will. Only one problem... Archer makes an offer I can’t turn down—one that could ruin me if I don't comply—and binds me to them. Eternally. They’ve turned me into their own, personal puppet, while simultaneously subjecting me to torture. Oh man, the things I was about to do to get my vengeance... They’re going to hell—and at the rate, things were going, I was getting a first-class ticket to ride the trip down with them.
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Chapter

Excerpt:

“Bow, Kitty Kat.” The corners of Archer’s lips curved up into a maniacal smile. He held the contract up beside his face, and I knew right there I was doomed.

The one, singular thing that could destroy me for good, had found its way into the hands of the most vicious of them all.

I had no other choice.

I did the one thing I swore I’d never do. I pressed my palms flat on the cool grass beneath me and bowed before the four cruel kings of Nightfall prep. The sinfully beautiful, ruthless beasts that would be my undoing.

They had won.

I belonged to them now.

And, everyone knows once they’ve got your soul, there was no way of escaping them.

***

Kat.

Jaz came hurtling down the stairs as if a pack of rabid wolves was at her heels, with Mom short behind her. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and her feet were bare.

When they reached the landing, Mom passed her a pair of heels, then stepped in behind her to smooth down the back of her long, raven hair. “You have to hurry. Mr. Rosethorn will be here at any moment now.”

My sister’s lips puckered, and she peered over at me. “Do I look okay? What do you think, Kat?”

I lowered the magazine on my lap and forced a smile so wide that my face might crack. “You look beautiful.” My heart twisted as the words left my mouth. It wasn’t a lie.

She was a vision of elegance, dressed in a long, silver gown, and her makeup was perfect.

But, knowing that my parents were about to hand her over as my former boyfriend’s bride was a kind of pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

I was supposed to be the one walking out of here tonight in a stunning dress and with the world at my feet.

Instead, my boyfriend of five years decided on the night of the selection to call my sister’s name.

At first I laughed it off, thinking it was a silly mistake contributed by anxiety and him having to present himself to the pack, but when I stood up, he demanded that I sit down.

He cleared his throat, repeating my sister’s name. “Jazmine Winterborne, I choose you as my mate.”

There wasn’t a sting worse than rejection.

“Are you sure?” She appeared hesitant, staring down at the dress. “Don’t you think it’s a little too much? Maybe I should have put on the red one?”

Mom clucked her tongue. “The dress is perfect. Gerhard likes shiny things, doesn’t he, Katherine?”

She pinned me with a deliberate look, knowing fully that statement would hurt me. Mom had been on a mission to tear me down since the night I was denounced as Gerhard’s mate, as it was the most humiliating thing my parents had ever gone through.

And of course, they blamed me.

I wasn’t enough, period. I should have worn girlier dresses, and put more effort into my appearance. But mostly, be less opinionated, like some petty doll with the personality complex of a rock.

“The shinier the object, the more he wants it,” I replied dryly, putting away the magazine.