Broken

Broken: A Second Chance Monster Romance Trish Heinrich Beautiful Fire Copyright Copyright © [2023 by [Trish Heinrich] All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Also By About Author Prologue Selene-Eight Years Old I was all of eight years old when I realized that my life would never be fair, it would never have the magic the rest of my family and clan did. I hadn’t wanted to go to school. Not after everyone in the clan knew that I would never be like them. The pain in my joints and muscles from the three nights of the full moon were now just a slight ache, manageable if I didn’t think about it. But the pain in my soul? That had only grown worse. Female Werewolves only took on a Were form on the three nights of the full moon, and I was well past the age when my form should’ve shown. I’d tried not to worry, as the years passed and the only thing that happened to me during the full moon was a flu like sickness. But this year was different. The healers all agreed that if it wasn’t this year, it wouldn’t be any year. They’d given me horrible teas to drink, and a charmed necklace to wear all in the hopes that it would strengthen the small amount of Wereblood I had. My father was only a quarter Were, but my mother was full, and they all agreed that this should be enough to compensate. They were wrong. The only changes were that my claws extended, my eyes became yellow and now I had the keenest sense of smell of my entire family. Oh and, of course, the sensation that I was being ripped apart three nights in a row. Turns out that having the rare disorder of not being able to shift meant that every month my body would be wracked with excruciating pain. The belief that I’d truly been cursed at some point was starting to firmly take root in my psyche. I was a freak, a failure, not a real Werewolf. My dad had tried to hide his tears of disappointment, but my mother hadn’t even looked at me when I’d come downstairs for breakfast this morning. The only one that had treated me like I was normal was my older sister, Morgana. She helped me braid my hair and snarled at the older boys who had started to laugh at me when I walked into the school. But she couldn’t protect me all day, and as soon as she had gone into her classroom, the teasing had started. “Hey freak, here’s a tail, want me to pin it on you?” asked one of the boys. “Are you even allowed to be here if you’re not a real Werewolf?” asked another. The teacher had put a stop to the teasing, and I got a reprieve while learning about math and science, but the moment recess was called, it started all over again. Finally, I couldn’t take it, and I shoved the boy who was calling me a freak and throwing dirt clods at me. I followed it up with a bite on his arm. The bawbag had screamed louder than a banshee and I’d been sent to the head teacher’s office. She’d given me a warning, and look of pity that I was starting to become horribly familiar with when it came to the adults in my life. I was supposed to go back to class where my tormentors were likely waiting for me to reappear. Instead, I snuck off to the swings where I could cry in peace. I’d been there long enough for snot to start to fall from my nostrils when I smelled a male Werewolf coming closer. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, and jumped off the swing, fists clenched and ready. If I was to be picked on, he wouldn’t find me an easy target. I’d already gotten in trouble once today, what was another to add to the list? But when I finally saw him, the male wasn’t even looking at me. He was grumbling to himself as his Chucks stirred up the playground dirt, a small notebook clutched in his hand. Dark wavy, hair fell in his face and he was constantly brushing it back. He charged forward, body tense, strides purposeful. His face was freckled, though not as bad as mine, and his eyes were the brightest blue I’d ever seen. He was older because I didn’t recognize him from my class, and I would’ve remembered a male this beautiful. And oh my goodness, he really was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. Which was why I stared at him, mouth gaping, hands falling open because a being this pretty couldn’t be a threat. He almost ran into me before he realized I was there. When he did, the boy came to an abrupt halt, eyes wide as if he’d just gotten caught doing something naughty. A moment later, his eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. “Ya aren’t supposed to be here,” he said, his voice giving a little crack at the end. “Neither are ya,” I shot back. His lips pursed and nodded. “Yep. So I guess ya can’t tell on me then.” “I guess so,” I agreed. He stared at me a moment longer, as if taking my measure and my bruised little heart beat frantically in my chest. I desperately wanted to pass muster, and I thought that a boy like this, who