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.
___________________________
“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

Lila was acting suspicious, hyper-aware of our surroundings. We moved in silence, and I’m surprised that Lila knew the layout of the palace so well, going through sections that royalty wasn’t supposed to be aware of.


Following her lead into the main kitchen, a soft rhythm of clinking utensils and quick hands. Since it was late into the night, a limited number of chefs remained. They were preparing for breakfast tomorrow and to my surprise – their faces lit up at her arrival.


“Hi everyone.” She waved animatedly.


The head chef was dressed in black, tucked in the farthest corner of the kitchen near the walk-in freezer while ticking off items on his checklist. “Evangeline, I hope it’s not a midnight snack yet again.” He teased.


She scoffed playfully, “I’m a night owl, my appetite is at its peak when the clock strikes twelve.”


He hums, “Are you Cinderella? Do you also have a pumpkin carriage that disappears at midnight?”


Chapter 79 A Midnight Feast Pick Me Up