Reborn as the Unwanted Mate

INDY  

If I ever mysteriously disappear, it won't be because of an ex-boyfriend or a serial killer. Although, the latter would be impossible. Despite living twenty-five whole years on this forsaken planet, I couldn't find the one for me just yet.  

Not that I was complaining.  

Humans are obnoxious. Plain and simple. We feel too much yet are somehow lacking empathy. We're a weird paradox that the Creator Himself probably finds scratching His head from time to time when looking down at us.  

Exhibit A.  

"Everly Rain, I hope your teeth rot for what you did to Clara," I muttered, reading as a new comment popped up on the latest chapter of my story.  

"That's a new one," I chuckled. "They haven't come for my teeth before."  

"Oh, here's another one."  

"Are you seriously trying to make us feel bad for Lucinda? Girl, be for real. I'll find where you fucking live and make sure you-"  

"Okay, that's enough," I said, shutting my laptop and closing my eyes. My temples were hurting from writing the entire day. Scratch that. I wrote some, deleted some, then wrote some, and deleted some more. It took me a groveling five hours to put out a single chapter, but the moment I uploaded it, the comments told me it was shit.  

Let me explain something first.  

I write werewolf books.  

However, there's one teenie-weenie, minuscule, microscopic, not even slightly visible problem-I hate werewolf books.  

I hate their rules and their pack dynamics. I also hate how some of the men can act like utter dogshit (pun intended) and still be forgiven in Chapter 36 because they suddenly "soften their voice" and "kiss her temple gently."  

Yet, here I am. Six books in. Two under a pseudonym-Everly Rain. I wanted it to be entirely different from my real name-Indiana Sage, a name my mom gave me because I was born in Indiana. Creative, right?  

The other four were under a ghost contract with some publishing house that treats me like a printer that occasionally bleeds. The current one I was writing had become my most successful one, 'The Wolf Prince and the White Rose.'  

My latest crime was making Lucinda, the Wolf Prince's original mate, attack Clara, the ever-innocent protagonist. That attack was supposed to be the final blow before Lucinda's death. She had already been captured, detained, and tortured by the Alpha for all the atrocious things she had done.  

However, just to keep readers on their toes, I decided to let Lucinda escape one more time before she was finally killed in the hands of the Wolf Prince himself.  

The readers didn't like that, though.

I sighed once more, slumping on my worn-out seat as I removed the egg carton underneath my laptop. It was the only thing saving it from overheating. It was already late into the night, and the moon was high in the sky.  

I glanced at the worn-out wall clock and saw that it was already 3 AM. I