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

The gown was utterly breathtaking, a marvelous blend of darkness against the starry night. Blinking rapidly, unable to accept that it was me in the mirror. A deep onyx colour that reminded me of Lazarus, shimmering a midnight blue under the light. Intricate silver embroidery along the bodice, delicate vines dancing along the sweetheart neckline, mesh material that wrapped around my collarbones and climbed to my neck.


Sheer long sleeves and ruffled layered skirts that flowed like the ocean waves, shifting from translucent to utter darkness and similar detailing of silver embroidery along the edges. Even the slightest movement had the dress moving like a subtle breeze in the night.


My heart fluttered when the door opened, a spike in my pulse as our eyes locked through the mirror. Lazarus doesn’t move, remaining like a statue for what seemed like hours. He emulated royalty in a three-piece suit, so handsome and lethal, a poison I’d willingly drink.


Chapter 127 When Eyes Betray The Soul