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 was confident of Lazarus’s obsession with me, he was possessive when it came to me, and I used it to my advantage.


Lazarus walked through a dimly lit hallway, no soul in sight and opened the door stationed in the middle. A strobe of neon lights filled the space, entirely empty aside from the leather sofa and rounded glass coffee table filled with alcohol and crystalized glasses.


He strolled towards the sofa, throwing his arms across the backrest. Lazarus exuded raw power and fierce dominance that demanded my submission. Readying myself to strip, his deep voice halting my actions. “Did I say you can take your clothes off.”


“Why shouldn’t I?” I challenged with a raised brow.


His lips curve into a devilish grin, malice dripping from his blackened orbs. “I didn’t know had a talent for dancing.” He mockingly praised, “I bet you loved showing your seduction to the world, showing that body to the world.”


Chapter 69 Dance For Your King