Novels by Carrel

Leya releases a soft hiss— like hot water falling on iced rocks, as the cotton swabs gently on her cheek. She presses harder, grinding her teeth back and forth while dabbing at the small cut.It was barely perceptible, yet the pain and shame swathed over her shoulders like a blanket that weighed her down.Her reflection squinted back at her, a soft sheen of water still glossing her skin from the brief shower. Hair damp and hanging in loose dark tendrils about her shoulders.Leya lowered the bloodied cotton and tilted her cheek this way then that, studying the damage on either side.It had been eight hours since the incident; Kairo Pressing her into the corner, his hand caging her face in a grip that frighteningly reminded her of someone else, his claws extended and digging, digging.He had hurt her.And she had cowered away, stripped of all the years it had taken to cultivate a firm exterior, all the nights spent willing her mind to ne

*slams down next chapter on your table* *looks you in the eye* you're welcome Scarcely had there been a moment in Kairo’s life when he thought that he had done something wrong. That he was doing something wrong. His moral compass was true North, his ability to determine wrong from right was always a sharply honed blade that drew a firm line on the sand between. The last time he had done something wrong, something so vile, unforgivable, had ended with him punished, raped, and cursed for all eternity. A wretched thing he was, forced to walk the earth with no sense of humanity and forever a beast without memory. He thought that had been the worst day of his life.

*slams chapter down on your table* done. enjoy. Shoot. Trapped within the confines of her truck, Leya gazed out the windshield at the two males. Despite the distance, she felt the tension, cold as ice, press on her skin like a blunt steel blade. Her heart did something wicked in her chest, momentarily forcing a smatter of bile to rise her throat and she tasted the bitterness with absolute clarity. Holland stood stiffly before Kairo. The breadth of his shoulders was drawn taut like an overstrung bowstring, stretching the material of his shirt. One hand rested on his waist where the Glock’s glimmering handle protrudes. Leya knew that stance.

The darkness in the room felt like sensory deprivation to Leya. It was blacker than black, unable to see anything but hear the faint rumbling of noise in the background like a rushing stream. Unable to catch a sliver of sleep, she rolled onto her back and fiddled with the blanket that rested over her abdomen. Lightning flashed white, briefly brightening the room, and in it, she grew acutely aware of the man that slept on the floor. Kairo. He had been adamant about sleeping in her bedroom, and she did allow him albeit with a firm rule of not sharing the same bed. He had taken to the floor after a brief unintelligible argument with a disdainful grunt but still mildly happy by the fact that they shared the same room.

Leya had never given anyone a bath, let alone an adult man.Standing in the small confines of the cabin’s bathroom, she did not realize just how constricting space was, not until Kairo stepped inside.His shoulders seem to hunch inwards as well, the top of his head angled down to prevent grazing the ceiling. He looks uncomfortable but Leya feels nothing close to sympathy for the large man.“I’m assuming you’ve never had a bath,” Leya murmurs as she carefully manoeuvres around the man, wary not to touch his dirt-stained body. Setting the bucket down in one corner of the shower, she drops a scrubbing brush inside, bar of soap, bottle of two in one shampoo, scrubbing gloves, three razors and a nail cutter.She feels him shift somewhere to her side and her eyes slant to peer at the man gazing at the showerhead now at his height. His glancing fingers pick at random bottles aligned on the racks then pops them open before tentativel

Leya had slapped him. Hard. The intensity of her winding and falling hand had never been more brutal, such that even hours later the skin of her palm still stung. She did not reach for the gun this time around, perhaps realizing that her threats were as empty and baseless as a void drum. Instead, Leya rose sharply as the chair shrilled on the wooden floor and she had shoved him out of the cabin, face flushed in utter horror, body tingling in a manner of discomfort at his blatant, tasteless intimacy. Seeing her expression then - something akin to bemusement and curiosity - stopped the man from resisting her actions. He did not push back with his brute strength and instead let her jostle him out of the house and into the night. There, she slammed the door s

The bonus chapter most people have been waiting for and an important note at the end. “Brother.” The warlord glances up from the alliance paper sprawled before him and at Cain who sits at the head of the table. Beside him is another Alpha, supposedly from another wolf pack that Hadrius could not remember. There was a lot to remember. Hadrius blinks and Cain’s pointed stare drops to the table, “Will you not sign it?” The warlord glances down once more to find the ink pen had dripped onto the paper’s corner, a blank space still awaiting his signatory. He sits straighter and clears his throat, “Yes.” Drawing out his signature, Hadrius caps the pen and slides it towards the awaiting mediators and legal advisors who peer over the papers once more before nodding at the pack leader. Every man rises then, pausing to stare upon Cain and the new Alpha as they exchange firm handshakes and murmurs of ‘we

The week had gone by in a blur of activities; Novus’ final sighting before the eyes of the public - his execution and burning at the altar. There had been an incoherent pleasure that drifted through the warlord at the sight of Novus’ clipped and outraged face as he gazed upon River, alive and healthy despite his endeavours. He had gone into a frenzy, a sort of madness, regression as the guards dragged him up to the altar. Blood and fluids trailed in rivulets down the man’s wounded body, gaping gulleys of flesh and flashing alabaster bones still unhealed in display for those watching in raptured silence. He was cursing the brothers out. Eyes wide and terror-filled, frothing at the mouth as indecipherable words left him. Neither Hadrius nor Cain flinched at the horrific sight, their countenance masks of clean-cut stone, pristine and unwavering at his curses that dissolved to pleading and begging. They fell on deaf ears. The guards bore him down on the wooden cr

Hadrius sighs, “No you’re not.”River’s smile droops, “You have to admit it was a good prank.”Wordlessly he draws her beneath the sheets, worn out not only from the day but her endless antics. For the first time in a long time, Hadrius feels his age. Unable to keep up with her youthful banter and annoyance that is endearing but twists something ageing in him.Her purring picks up in the silence, filling the void as he strokes her hair lethargically. “I have a question for you.”River’s head tilts up in his embrace, searching his face in the darkness.His gaze remains fixated on the wall, then slowly draws down to her. “Would you like to be Luna?”“Luna?” She echoes and he nods.“It’s a title parallel to queen.”“Oh,” he feels her fingers play with his pierced nipple, rolling the barbel back and forth. “No.”

“She performed a partial shift.”The warlord’s intent, worried stare lifts from his mate currently sitting on the healer’s table, and to the source. The healer stands by his side holding a large leather-bound book with ancient diseases and plagues that befall the Lycans. His hand rises to rub the throbbing spot between his brow, a tension headache bloomed out of fear and pure terror for his mate.Thrice in his life now River has nearly given him heart attacks and high blood pressure.“A partial shift,” he murmurs thoughtfully. Such shifts were rare, one in every five centuries would either be born with the inability to fully shift or a human turned would only grow out their tail and ears.His gaze returns to his mate, now freshly dressed in a clean white shirt and skirt, her bare feet doodling circles on the air below. She is rubbing her ears in wonder, turning her head this way and that whilst staring at her reflection

“Crawl to me.”Heat flares throughout River’s body as she kneels a distance from him, dark eyes fixated on the warlord’s shadowed face. Her lips are slightly parted to which she shuts gently as he arcs a sardonic eyebrow and taps a patient boot on the floor.River swallows, throat jerking against the dryness and obediently she lowers both palms onto the carpet. As her hands sink into the cushioned floor, blood rises stinging to her cheeks, wide eyes brilliant and unwavering on his dominant countenance.Slowly, like an obedient puppy, she obeys.Each movement is slow, her knee rising in tandem to each hand, hips swaying like a swelling tide in the ocean, from side to side. The sheer dress caresses her skin, whispering along the curves of her body and she feels her nubile breasts gently press on her inner arms as she crawls.He watches her. Hellfire swallowing his gaze in absolute darkness, not once leaving her face as space b

River woke with a fire of determination lining her veins. All she sees is red whilst stomping down the palace’s hallway in search of the one person who would know Hadrius better than she did.Despite the weather’s coolness, dark winter clouds lumbering lowly, heavily, River still feels the prickling sensation of heat on her skin, rubbing its friction hands up her inner thighs, cupping her throbbing womanhood.Hadrius had refused to touch her and she threw a tantrum throughout the night, then cried believing that he would allow her to suffer in such a way. In retrospect, River cannot help but cringe inwardly at the realization that she truly shed tears over his cock and sudden chastity.It’s the heat, she reasons, it has to be.Since its beginning, she had been nothing but affectionate for the warlord, oftentimes wanting to hold him if not fuck him. The emotions that tumult within felt vivid; love, caring and adoration. Sometimes she woul

“Well,” Lycus leaned against the wooden door, raising a challenge eyebrow, “what do we have here?” “Lycus,” Inayah groaned, dropping back on the bed slightly ashamed of the talk. Her advancements were obvious, why did he have to question? She heard chuckle and a heartbeat later, the bed dipped. Hands were reaching for her wrists, gently prying them away, still she did not open her eyes. Then he cupped her face and ran his fingers through her hair and all thought was lost. Lycus seemed fascinated with her hair, with her face, her body, her soul - and he thrums as she quivered before him. He took his time, fingers moving on to her mouth and he stayed there for a bit, thumb pressed against her lower lip in mild awe. Inayah's eyes opened then, and with her gaze locked on his, she pressed a kiss on his thumb. A pleasant purr reverberated from his chest and she exhaled as he moved on, her cheeks warm and tingling. Heart pounding ha

Inayah woke to rhythmic swaying, like that of a mother gently rocking her child to sleep in loving arms. Her eyes fluttered open, blurry with the remnants of sleep still desperately clinging to her, but she forced them wider. As her senses gradually grew clearer, the sound of crashing traced her ears. But... it wasn’t a violent sound. It was the musical notes of water, she realised, the percussion section roaring from the surface below.Sunlight bled and warmed her face, casting streaks of ethereal gold and comforting black across the bridge of her nose. As she slowly propped herself onto one elbow, she threaded her hand through her soft tangles and peered around the room. The swaying continued along with the water splish-splashing, and her location soon dawned upon her.The room was sparsely decorated, made of nothing but a chipped, wooden table to the right of her and a closet protruding from the wall in front. Dark browns painted the floors with the only sourc

Dinner drifted by in silence. Inayah ate but could not taste the food on her tongue. Each movement was monotonous, automatic -- the rise of her fork, the clink of her knife, she did not sip her wine for it resembled Mathilde’s blood which had soaked her front and part of the table cloth.The clatter of Salem’s utensils drew her attention back to him. She stared, pale as candle wax, and unmoving. Salem sipped his wine tentatively, seeking her eyes in the process. “I wish to apologize over my past behaviour and all that I had done to harm you.”Inayah remained silent.“I know I haven’t been the best caregiver, nor master,” he paused, “nor lover. But I have tried Inayah.” On cue, his gaze slid to Mathilde’s motionless body still strung on the seat, “It was my fault for not acting earlier and assuming the relationship between both of you had been anything but malicious and for that, I apol

Inayah stood by the kitchen counter, staring at the vast array of knives spread before her. One knife in specific was double-edged and sharp enough to slice through the skin with ease. So much ease.“Stop lazing about.” Mathilde’s voice echoed from somewhere behind her and Inayah gripped the potato in hand. Inhaling a measured breath, she began to precariously peel the vegetable, gripping the knife handle tightly as the blade swept beneath skin. She was careful enough to cut out chunks of flesh lest Mathilde injures her again.Then again… Inayah’s eyes flickered to the fire hearth with a cauldron set atop, two pokers pressed into the bright orange coals that glimmered with embers of heat. She licked the back of her teeth thoughtfully.Completing the remnants of dinner, Inayah arranged the variety of foods on a platter and as she did, her mind wandered to Lycus who was caged in the basement. With an acerbic taste in her

Inayah treaded close behind Salem's figure. She fought the urge to reach out and grasp the lapel of his coat for guidance as he led her down a winding hall, down a descent of stairs and further past the cells he had her locked in.Inayah had stopped counting after four turns and followed obediently. He halted before a metallic chamber and pulled out a set of keys, wedging it into the silver door."This," Salem stepped aside and waved a hand like a magician who had just performed a trick, "is where I keep my enemies."Inayah's eyes widened as they took in the room all around.Silver. Everything was silver, from the walls to the floor and ceiling. Stone and silver hardened to prevent escapes. Four cells had been placed, each with large silver shackled embedded to the walls and what looked like a dog plate in each.

The week of torture drifted past in flashes of black and white.Salem kept Inayah locked in the cages intermittently, allowing her freedom to use the potty and eat before locking her up again. His torture knew no bounds, from whipping to shouting and sometimes daring to suffocate her in her food.All for one question."Do you like him?" Salem asked, lifting her head with his grip on her ponytail.Inayah blinked back nauseating tears and spoke. Her own voice sounded like it was tearing and unfamiliar. "No," she admitted for the tenth time that day."What were you planning on doing?""Running away," blood dripped from her nose from the stress her body tried to put up with, "he said we'd head East-""To the ocean