Neither my body’s stretch against the warm sheets nor the sound of the coastal morning birds could relieve any tension bubbling in my stomach. I cannot believe he did not, at any point in the night, reach out to me. The bars are still on the windows; I can see their shadow against the curtain. The only thing that keeps me from giving in to my misery is the scent of bacon flooding my room. Perhaps he wishes to speak over breakfast? Then again, the Marko I know cannot cook. I do not bother with a shower, merely drape one of his robes over my body and rush to the dining room. A laugh nearly claims me at the sight that fills my eyes, but the bitterness within me would not permit anything to flow from my lips. The room was empty, but on the table sat a plate of breakfast essentials wrapped in a clingfilm that bore a note atop it. I don't...want to read it. I don’t want my heart to escape me at the meaning behind a simple yellow note. "Marko." I call, but no answer. Then again,
The rattling of heavy metal, the sound of wheels against tarmac beneath me and the sound of traffic flood my ears. The scent of dust and metal hangs poignantly in the air. My lids are heavy, my hands tied behind my back, and my legs are bound together at my ankle. The floor, or whatever my body is on, is cold. I am in motion, most definitely in the back of a truck, because each turn sways my body, and it is far too spacious for a typical car. ‘Kaisa?’ She doesn’t respond; I cannot even feel her presence anymore. I am in the bare minimum of garments, a baggy shirt and tights, no shoes, bra or panties, but I am grateful; it could have been much worse. “And you are sure no one saw you.” A familiar feminine voice asks. “For the third time, Maggie, no.” ‘Maggie?’ The man’s voice, it resembles the one from the beach. Damn, what did he hit me with? My neck feels stiff, but I cannot smell my blood, or any blood for that matter. "No, wait-" A whimper escapes the feminine voice,
The streetlights make him resemble an angel, for it gives him a sort of halo that strains my vision.His approach to me is quick, I do not even have the chance to reel away from him, not that I can anymore, I cannot feel my limbs.“Let’s go before the police come, my darling.”He utters as he stretches his hand towards me.I can’t reach it; I do not even wish to close my eyes for fear that everything will fade to black.Why can’t I sense Kaisa?A frown forms on his face at my lack of response to his gesture.“Those animals…they drugged my beloved.”He mutters as he lowers to one knee, and where I expect him to lift me, he only reaches for my cheeks, tugs my face to his and plants a forced kiss that I can neither fight nor reciprocate due to the muscle relaxers in the tranquiliser.I nearly hurl when his tongue slides inside my mouth; the repulsion is something I have never felt before, yet the nauseating sensation swirling within me continues to grow.Is it because of the bond that I
Marko. "Why?" He asked the question again, leaning against the musky metal bars; he knew the answer but asked it anyway. She didn't answer; he did not expect her to, hell even his question was rhetorical. The dungeons smelled like moss and stagnant water, but her blood from interrogations was the most pungent of scents. Everything was over for her; she had lost her honour and title now that she had been marked a national traitor, and while her father, Elder Clive, fled the country at the sight of the leaked CCTV footage of the accident, she had remained broken at the site. The marks on her body were not because she did not collaborate; she had spilt every treasonous secret, even the fact that her father was the one to orchestrate the temple car crash. The marks on her flesh were his frustrations; he would have killed her if it were not for Rhett. Hell, he would have killed her if he were not certain Alba was alive due to their bond. He could still do it now; there was none but
Camille's gaze meets mine as she cleans the blood on the inner portion of my forearm—my blood, to be precise.This is yet another of her ‘samples’. I do not know where she takes them; she must have at least two litres in stock by now."Do you not want to know where I take your blood?"As if reading my mind, she asks.I don't answer; I find conversations proceed simply if I keep quiet."Yo-your blood keeps girls and boys below seventeen healthy. It cures the disease-riddled, especially those around the quarries. One drop and-""If it cures, why does it burn your alpha?"“He will be your alpha too.”She adds, but when she gets no reaction from me, she clears her throat and continues."It burns every unmated wolf because the Lycan’s mark imprinted on you; you changed some of its components. So now it can only aid the immature, but they are our future, so I cannot discriminate.""I wonder how that will change as you continue injecting the wolfsbane.""I… must."Of course, she must; Jax is
On instinct, my face turns away from Alpha Jax’s hand, but he remains persistent, a little too so, that his free hand grabs a fist full of my hair to still my movements.“Open it before I request the tube we used yesterday.”I would rather have him use the tube.I would rather he knows how much I cannot stand his presence.My mouth remains shut, so his hand leaves my hair and cups my cheek.His thumb presses the space between my upper and lower teeth, forcing a small hollowness to form that he uses to shove the gross salty mixture in my mouth.“Chew and swallow, or so help me God-!”He utters while his hand remains on my mouth, pressing it shut so I do not spit it out.Alpha Jax looks wholly unfamiliar.While a part of me wants to talk to him and form a rapport, perhaps act as he wants me to so that he goes easy on me, another wants to defy his every whim regardless of the cost.He needs me alive; he will not kill me-Right…the fat little thing inside me may not survive any blows he o
He is beautiful.The kind of beauty you only see on social media photos that have been augmented several times.His little eyes are shut, but his chest rises and falls with such a rhythm that lulls me to calmness.I love the white of his lashes and hair; they add an etherealness to him that, sadly, is too familiar with Marko.If I do decide to keep him, I would have to go quite far so that they never meet.My nose moves to his chest before his little arms stretch, pushing me slightly off his frame, and the breathing resumes.It had been two days since Kaisa had mentioned Marko was close; perhaps I got my hopes too high up in expecting him to be here in haste.Still, I find solace in this space that she pulls me to.Simply watching ‘ugly’ perform the most mundane of tasks clumsily takes away any anxiety staking its claim on me.Even now, I cannot feel the pain that thumps through my jaw, arm or cheek present while I am awake.The removal of the mark is taking longer than the Alpha of R
My body prowls low on the ground, I say mine, but truthfully it does not feel like my own. There is a slight pain in my joints that one typically associates with old age, a whiteness on my fur, and warmth on my paws. I am in the forest, whereas seconds ago, I was in a car. The body holds memories I cannot account for. I have never been in a body that was not my own or Markos, yet as if I am seeing the future; I have no control over this as well. A low growl startles the body to hyper-alertness, causing its vision to spin from corner to corner until, finally, two wolves reveal themselves. Ketrian warriors. The body realises with dread that creeps in. ‘Where is the Queen?’ One of them, the grey one, asks while the other snarls with open hostility. The body snarls back; something in it does not or rather cannot answer. I feel their sense of loyalty towards their pack and alpha, even if they do not understand the fullness of the actions they commit. ‘We need her more; we are losin
And that’s a wrap. The book will be marked as complete soon; I hope you loved both stories, the bonus ( ̄y▽ ̄)╭ ohohoho….. and the main story. Now on the meat of the matter, my next work will be out in late June or Mid-July titled: The Alpha's Ruby Obsession (I think, but most likely.) It will be 18+, not just because of the smut but because it is a little darker than this one, discussing themes to do with suicidal ideations and consent-non-consent relations, but don’t worry, I will tag the concerning chapters. It can be read as a stand-alone, but there are benefits to reading this book first. Lastly, this concerns my other book: Your last lie—please do not purchase it until perhaps next year (Late next year); it was my first book and thus very clumsy, I want to work on it, and if you have it in your library, you can remove it and select it later, the changes should reflect. Thank you for reading and voting for ‘Bound to My Wicked Stepbrother’. I would love to hear more from you; whe
TRIGGER WARNING: CONSENT. The pounding in my head trembles my vision. Christ, I am never drinking again. My struggle to change my position and take advantage of the day is met with a familiar stiffness; only the rattling sounds binding me send my eyes wide open. An unfamiliar room, brightly lit with top wall windows that ensure I cannot see outside, but enough light enters that I can see thousands upon thousands of pictures of me lining the walls. Hah... what the hell? Panic sets in low in my belly as struggle finds my limbs. I do not wish to scream; who knows what I will alert, but the rattling of the cuffs binding my hands and feet to the bed must have awoken something because movement sounds from the other side, beyond the dark staired hallway. It would have been easy to sit upright had it only been my hands bound, but both my hands and feet were chained to the bed, holding me indecently in place and... My clothes are different. "You are up? Good, I brought you some food.
He isn’t coming. I repeat to myself as I splash some more warm water on my face. Ugh, what the hell was that sickly sweet champagne Magnolia guzzled down my throat in ‘celebration’? If she wants me to be drunk and embarrass myself, all she has to do is say that. A sigh escapes me at my tired expression in the bathroom mirror. My face is flushed, yet despite how tipsy I am, the hurt from seeing him arrive with his ‘ex-fiancée’ cut too deep to be blurred with liquor. Ever since the production ended, I woke up to sex dreams where Marko would bind me, trap me somewhere and have his way with me mercilessly. Of course, I would plead that he free me because, let’s face it, I would only plead that he does not touch me so that I could be regarded as sane. Because who in the hell would want to be bound and f*cked mercilessly by someone who all but regarded them as a slut? Guilt always devours me at the end of the vulgar dreams, I guess they are about to worsen now that he is with his ex-f
Marko "Cut”. The director's voice rang for what would be the last time, and applause followed. The moment was bittersweet, but the feel of Alba detaching from him as if he was plagued stung. "Alb-" "Don't...don't say anything, Marko. Let this end." "I don’t want-" "Don't want that?" Again, she interrupted him, finishing his sentence when he did not wish her to. "Marko, you called me a slut a few weeks ago, so let this 'slut' reform her ways, a safe distance from you.” “I never said you were a slut.” “No, you merely said that I spread my legs for anyone who gives me the time of day; if your argument is on semantics, try again." Alba uttered as she moved from him, but her dress, the same ivory gown that stole his chest as she walked down the Aisle, making him wish that for a moment the scene was real and she was his bride, made her curse as she moved. "God damn heels!" She muttered before leaving him...again. Should he manipulate her transport? No, she might not fall for
The ballroom echoed its commotion at Marko’s announcement of me as his future wife and Milos as his heir. I should cease wearing fitting gowns that limit my breathing during balls that I anticipate trouble. Still, his hand on my waist is more intense in this way, even as some show their distaste for our relationship vocally, despite our mention that we were mates chosen by the goddess. The tea party was brutal, but this, having to look in the eyes of hundreds of unsmiling faces as if our lives impacted them more than was appropriate, was a whole other thing. Despite all this, my proximity to Marko keeps me uncaring; but I cannot stop my chest’s clenching. Unlike me, he has cared how others viewed him since his youth, and he has always wanted to be a regal and dignified king framed by perfection. Am I not staining him? Please don't change your mind. Please want me still. Please- A tremble rocks through me at the thoughts chanting ceaselessly in my mind, so I step away from Mark
"Ahh...that hits the spot."Ruby utters as she places her pitcher of cider beer on the table with a thud. Without missing a beat, she turns to the table grill and turns the thinly sliced steaks before they burn.It was amusing watching her eat, actually more than amusing; I keep growing envious of her appetite.Still, how were the Clive illegitimate children treated for her to behave this similarly to Violet and me?While I like her playful maturity, we understand the scars that made us this way.After explaining my dream as the ‘sun’ to her (I am not sure if she believes me or thinks I am crazy), we settle and enjoy each other’s company at the eatery that offers each table a small grill and a wide selection of meats for one to fry up themselves if they do not wish for any item from the precooked menu.It took quite a bit of patience, but I finally finished the steak Violet made for me; it is hard to avoid eating when everything around me smells delicious; hell, even the smoke smelled
The woman’s voice holds remorse so deep that it stills me momentarily; it is only when tears stream down her face, ruining her perfect make-up, that I try my hardest to squat in the tightness of my dress and hold her in my arms, for God knows what reason.A feeling I had not felt since Red Graw dances in my chest."My Su-""I am sorry for the way it ended, my dearest misunderstood crimson moon."My lips utter with a voice that comes from deep within me before a smile tilts the corners of my lips upwards.Despite the smile playing on my face, a deep heaviness feels my chest.“It shall awaken soon; find your centre, my precious blood moon; only then will you find peace.” The moment her head slumps heavily on my shoulders, the ‘enchanted’ feeling dissipates from me before I feel her stiffen in my arms."Oh...oh, you must think I am insane."She whispers through my flesh before she peals away from me, hiding the crimson covering her face.“Help me up?”She asks her chauffeur, who assists
“That’s like saying I do not care for my skin.”The girl Violet converses with responds.“I am not responsible for how you choose to interpret my words.”Christ, Violet.I almost groan, but Georgia yells a question impolitely at me."Is that a ring? Are you engaged, priestess?" Silence follows the words; even the blonde, who almost responded to Violet’s taunt, turns her attention to me.“That’s right; you said you would discuss it inside,”Rebeca chimes.Hesitation echoes within me, I thought I would be amongst friends as I open up about this tender subject, but instead, I feel as if I am-"Yes, uh...I am getting married."I announce into the silence, and gasps follow from the majority of the lips but Rebecca’s."Oh! The Lycan King was carrying a baby in his arms in the papers, perhaps a week back. Was the baby yours? I mean, you did go missing for years after the whole Red Graw saga. Did they… I mean, is that why you are being removed from the royal line."Georgia asks; her brashnes
As opposed to an elegant parlour room, Rebecca escorts us outside to a greenhouse-like place that holds numerous colourful and bright plants that add to the bright aesthetic of the party, and despite being outside, the scent of pastries and tea hang deliciously in the air.My gaze turns to the nearby pond, and it is so clear that I can see my reflection in it, but more than that, I can see the tiredness in Rebecca’s build.I guess all the Clive relatives, regardless of association, had a tough time after Magnolia’s treason.The deeper we walk into the space, the more the sound of laughter and chatter calls to us only; it is not as inviting as she had once presented during the mate ball.“About Magnolia…”I begin, but she turns so suddenly on her track that I wind up trailing my words.“Oh, we are fine. Our relation is only from the maternal side.”What the hell is that supposed to mean?Does it matter from which side your cousins hail?“Anyway, I saw today’s papers; how are you holdin