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

My leg was fully healed, only scars remained. I’ve never been more grateful for my ability to walk than I do now. The next competition would take place in two days and while I would have loved to take Lazarus offer and only return the day of the contest – it was too risky.


Hence why we returned to the palace for the participants, albeit not a friendly welcome which wasn’t a surprise since Cassandra and the others left me to die. No one was more disappointed by my survival than her.


Lila took the seat next to me at the dinner table, sipping on her lavender tea while I opted for a strong expresso. Sun beamed from the window, bathing us in it’s warmth. She marvelled the empty chairs, “They are quite brazen in showing their dislike towards us.”


She hums, adding another teaspoon of sugar into her tea. “It’s both.” She corrected. “I don’t like them either especially after what she did to you.”


Chapter 92 The Real Bitch Conquers