The broken mates epub vk download

The stench hit her first. It smelled like rotting meat left out in the sun, thick and wet, coating the inside of her nose and sliding down her throat. Jayla's stomach heaved violently. She doubled over, dry-heaving onto the cold stone floor, her body convulsing as it tried to expel the foulness.

One thought crystallized before anything else: she had been transmitted. Again.

Not to another modern city, not to a historical dynasty — the system had thrown her into a Beast World. She was certain. The smell alone told her. No human settlement, no matter how filthy, carried that particular cocktail of raw animal musk, damp stone, and festering flesh. She had read the mission dossiers on Beast World deployments. She had always been grateful she'd never drawn one.

Apparently, gratitude meant nothing to A. Winter.

She tried to push herself up, to get her bearings, but a blinding pain exploded at the base of her skull. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the back of her head. A strangled groan escaped her lips as her arms gave out, and she crashed back down onto the rough, damp rock.

"What the hell..." Her voice was a raw rasp, like sandpaper scraping against wood. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.

Suddenly, a high-pitched whine pierced through the fog in her brain. It sounded like a modem dialing up, shrill and insistent, drilling directly into her synapses. Jayla squeezed her eyes shut, her hands flying up to press hard against her temples, as if she could physically push the sound out.

"Operative Lewis." The mechanical voice of A. Winter was devoid of any emotion, cold and sharp as a scalpel. "Intercontinental Beast World transmission confirmed. Forced deployment initiated. Welcome to Scenario: Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead."

"Bullshit!" Jayla roared in her mind, the pain fueling her rage. "My retirement was approved! I was on the beach!"

"Request denied," A. Winter cut her off flatly. "Protocol locked. Mission parameters uploading."

A tidal wave of data slammed into her consciousness. Not just mission objectives — world parameters. Beast World. A continent where humanoid species carrying the blood of ancient animals had evolved alongside humans: Merfolk with iridescent tails, Wolf-kin with amber eyes that glowed in the dark, Eagle-men whose wingspans could blot out the sun. A world governed by primal law, where strength was currency and the Mark of a mate was both sacred bond and iron chain. Images, sounds, and sensations — none of them hers — flooded her brain. Jayla's body went rigid, her back spasming, twitching on the stone floor as the mental assault raged. Her fingers curled into tight fists, nails digging into her own palms, drawing crescent moons of blood.

She tried to fight back. She reached for the familiar hum of Aether in her core, the energy that had saved her life a hundred times over. She tried to summon a spark, a shield, anything.

Nothing happened. The channels were blocked, sealed shut by invisible inhibitors. Her fingertips didn't even flicker.

A jolt of genuine panic shot through her. She was powerless. A Tier-S operative without her Aether was like a shark without teeth — and she had just been dropped into a Beast World cave, in a body that wasn't hers, with no powers, no intel, and no exit.

"Complete the Progenitus Optimization mission, or face immediate soul erasure," A. Winter warned, the voice fading into the back of her skull like a receding tide. Then, silence.

Jayla slammed her fist against the ground. The sharp crack of bone against stone echoed in the darkness. "Get back here!" she screamed.

But the system was gone. And the energy required for that outburst drained the last dregs of her strength. The blood loss from the head wound, the shock of the data dump, the sheer physical exhaustion — it all crashed down on her at once. Black spots danced across her vision, multiplying until they swallowed the dim light. Her limbs felt like lead. The darkness pulled her under again.