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

A rush of exhilaration poured into my veins, spreading to my nerves like wildfire. My heart pounded chaotically, echoing loudly into my ears as the prey became the predator. The sparks ignited under my fingertips, itching to pull the trigger – which is exactly what I did.


This was a game, and I craved this type of excitement, the one that fizzled in my blood.


The countdown was reaching it’s last five minutes, sweat coated my skin and had my clothes sticking to my body. Each breath becoming deeper and harsher, chasing after the wolves while also coordinating my attacks to their patterned programming.


Every muscle ached and burned, pushing my body to the limits and I loved every second of it. The countdown hit the two-minute mark and this time; I focused on the last wolf within my vision. Gradually progressing with each target, I noticed that they adapted towards their opponent in subtle ways.


Chapter 99 The Thrill Of The Killshot