A. Vitiosis

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

Emmett stumbled backwards, the drums of anger making my breathing shaky and uneven. Strands of his hair spilled softly over his brow, a small cut on his lower lip and I was utterly surprised by his reaction. He smiled, deepened the cut until a dash of blood spilled.


His pure hazel eyes meet mine with a teasing grin. “Am I forgiven?”


He knew me all too well, the satisfaction of punching him was enough to dampen my rage. A bruise blossoming on his cheek, “Or do you need to get a couple more in before you forgive me?” he teased, but I knew he was serious.


The betrayal lingered, the flames dwindling into subtle embers. I suppose he can be forgiven since he attempted to buy my freedom at the price of himself. There has always been a soft spot in my heart for Emmett, a love I couldn’t pursue and now… I never could.


Chapter 63 I Wish I Was Your Brothers Mate