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

I felt a tightness in my chest, dropping to my knees next to her crumbling form. Bonnie hunched over, clutching her face while blood dripped between her fingers. Terror pierced my heart, suffocated by the dead silence.


“Bonnie, let me see.” I choked out. “Please.”


My body shook violently, indifference and dread forming a lump in my throat as I begged, “Please Bonnie.”


I couldn’t recognize the person in front of me, hardly believing that this person was my sister. For years, at the slightest inconvenience she would throw a tantrum yet right now – she didn’t make a sound.


Bonnie lifted her head slowly and I gasped at the horror, crimson stained cheeks with blood pouring from the huge gash upon the right side of her face. It ran from the top of her brow, over her eye and down to her mouth.


She gave me a soft smile, woven with sorrow and regret. “I’m glad you’re okay, Bella.”


Chapter 172 Sisters Who Want Peace