In the year 2333, humanity has fallen and ruled by werewolves. Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion.
However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her.
He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave.
My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides.
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“Yes please.” She begs.
“Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy.
It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric.
But I never claimed to be saint.
“Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.”
“Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.”
I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.”
Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.”
“Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads.
“Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.”
I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

From Slave To Wolf Queen

I chose to make his breakfast today, a gesture of gratitude. Serving Lazarus his meals gave me the opportunity to determine his likes and dislikes. When it came to breakfast, he preferred scrambled eggs with diced onion and chillies, crispy bacon, fruit salad without any pears and lastly a sweet dessert. This time I opted for waffles topped with two scoops of vanilla ice cream drizzled in chocolate sauce.


Lazarus arched a brow, scepticism written all over his face. “Here you go Master.” I smiled, pouring black coffee into his mug and serving him a bit of everything on his plate.


“Where’s the malice Ma Cherie?” he smirks, “I always expect my food to be served with a side of your bitterness.” He teased, sipping on his coffee.


Rolling my eyes, pressing the fork into the eggs and lifting it to his lips. “I’m trying to be nice, why must you ruin it.”


He chuckles, “Because you detest being nice to me.”


Chapter 24 The True Face Of King Lazarus