~Did she cut her wedding gown off? What the heck! How could she turn it to that? ~ ~ What's going on with her? Why is she in sneakers? ~ ~What's she holding behind her ~ My ears listened to their whispers as I stood at the doorstep about to enter the hall. My gaze fell on my soon-to-be husband waiting for me by the alter and I chuckled remembering everything. Well, yes, I shortened my most beautiful wedding gown to a short gown that reaches above my knees and also on sneakers instead of heels, but then, this feeling is different; I've never felt this way my entire life. I'm supposed to be feeling rage boiling through my veins, anger, fury, accompanied with pains, and screams but that's not the case. Right now, I'm feeling super excited. Without delaying it any longer, I revealed the KRISS Vector gun I had been hiding behind me, and their facial expressions were joy-giving. I burst into laughter before releasing the fire on them. Wondering the kind of bride I am? I am Elora, the bride who went on a killing spree on her wedding day.
view more" You're not here for stripping; you're here as a sex slave," he said and pushed her into the room full of moans, grunts, groans, and the sound of slamming skins.Like he knew she'd scream next, he quickly covered her mouth and muffled the scream. Elora's eyes were widely opened upon the sight before her, she felt her blood drained to her stomach and her head spin. It was an open sex room where they'd see one another having sex, freely exchange the ladies, and have sex however or whoever they wanted or desired." Do you know how much this section makes a day?" he whispered to her ear, " twenty million dollars and each sex slave at least receives seventy thousand dollars a day, none of them are any of my slaves, they came to work out of their addiction, some to pay off debts, some for their family, but you? You'll be doing it for free."Elora felt her world crumbling, every cell in her body was screaming, and her legs were inching to run as fast as she could. She? Here? With these ani
Hour after hour, after minutes of thorough body scrubbing, pedicure and manicure was done, painting of the nails with fine paint, drying the hair and styling it more beautifully, applying some light makeup on her, and finally clothing her in a very beautiful black gown with silver beads adorned on it. It was an off-the-shoulder dress with a simple cut to the thigh; the dress fitted her body, displaying her shape to the waist region.After sliding her feet into the silver t-strap peep-toe platform heels and putting on silver earrings, a full-standing mirror was placed in front of her to check herself out." Is it to your standard?" the stylist asked cautiously.Elora gasped, looking at herself in the mirror; she knew she was always a beautiful lady, but this look she was staring at was on another level. She looked breathtaking, stunning to earth.~ holy moon! Is this my vessel?~ Naya asked after exclaiming.Elora's hand slowly moved towards her face as she stared at the mirror with par
Elora walked into the study room after Larsen, she stood with her arms folded beneath her breast while she glared across the room at him.Larsen sat quietly behind his study desk before finally looking up at her to ask if she slept well when he saw her murderous glare fixed on him." Why are you frowning?"" None of your business."A disbelief scoff escaped from his lips as he heard her cold, angry response. She looked away from him angrily." Did you just say none of my business?"" Why? Is it?" she looked at him giving him a weird angry expression," Some nerves you've got there."She looked away still frowning." I asked you a damn question," he asked, his baritone voice getting more rigid," Why should I answer you?" she turned back at him, shaking her head as she spoke with a mockery expression, turning her eyes and her nose moving funnily, "Why are you frowning? Who was the one frowning this morning? You refused to answer my greeting and even called me stupid so it's none of you
Elora headed back to the mansion to carry out her duty; this time, she entered the room without feeling nervous about facing Larsen. She entered the room without knocking and met him checking himself out in the mirror, all dressed in black trousers and a shirt." Oh," she mouthed, not expecting to see him still in the room, " good morning, Alpha."She greeted, and he turned towards her and looked away coldly without giving a response. Elora pouted, not understanding why he did not respond. She made to start cleaning the room when her toe bumped into the wooden edge of the bed." Ouch!!," she winced, grabbing her toe that felt like it was about to come off." Stupid," Larsen uttered and exited the room without paying her a second glance.Elora exclaimed in disbelief. She scoffed, and her face furrowed deeply in a frown." Didn't I tell you? He's such a jerk," she fumed, " what exactly did I do this time? I didn't look for trouble, so why didn't he answer me? Why is he so cold?" she ne
Her beauty is nothing like Elora's; neither does she have anything in common with her other than the blonde hair. He couldn't keep his mind off Elora, her pure and innocent face and smiles, her fierce character that was so unique and interesting. He missed her; he missed her so much that it made him angry.Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to ruin everything they'd built just like that as if it meant nothing to her?It makes him angry, it makes his blood boil, and he wants to do everything to make her regret making him feel this way.He trailed his thumb through Moraine's cheeks, that's so smooth and ran his eyes over her face; though she was not as beautiful as his Elora, he couldn't deny she was also a goddess herself." You're beautiful," his husky voice whispered as his thumb landed on her lips that parted slightly upon his touch.They locked eyes and stared into the lust that gradually consumed them. Moraine blinked her eyes, clearing her throat and she moved her face
Kesler and Damien cheered to the moon, sitting beside each other at the well-covered round table. Every werewolf was in a celebratory mood; howls and low yips were indistinct to their ears as they were both concealed in their thoughts. A lot of werewolves have gathered at Kesler's pack to celebrate, including Damien, who looked forward to the day he'll rank higher, and werewolves would also come to his pack to celebrate the moon. " I can't shake him out of my mind, Damien," Kesler began, " the humiliation, his tone and eyes, I'm not going to let this go," " I already had the feeling it wasn't going to be easy, but never had the idea he was going to be that ridiculous," " He just didn't want to sell her, or he's just wanting to assert his domination and authority like he always does, that arrogant scum," Kesler gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, the thought of the humiliation causing his blood to boil each time he recollects. " Because of him, I can't seem to enjoy the night,
Now it was Larsen's turn to be confused. He stared back at her in the not-so-bright room, squatting close to her enough to hear her words that were almost like whispers." Why are you confusing me?" she asked feeling so exhausted." How am I confusing you?" he asked back genuinely," I don't know, I don't if to hate you or not, I don't know if you're innocent or not, one minute you're soft, the next, you're the most annoying alpha ever,"" I thought you hated me. You've hated me from day one, so how come you don't know if to hate me," he asked in a soft tone that was almost seducing her." I misunderstood you, I thought you ordered the game that killed many werewolves the second day I arrived,"" Seriously? And you hated me because of that?"" Not only that, but you're also very annoying," she said looking away, " and why did you bring me here?"" Looks like you needed it,"" How did you know that?"" It was written all over you,"" Why did you care?."Larsen sighed from the questions
She heard Naya in her head, but she couldn't move; she couldn't do anything with her eyes fixed on her father. Elora has imagined this moment a thousand times—what she would say, how she would act, how she'd yell, what she'd ask him, how she'd scream or break down. But now, standing before the man who had stolen the life of her mother, the man who had stained her childhood love and memories with blood and betrayal, she felt… nothing. And everything. All at once.Elora felt a storm brewed in her chest, violent and suffocating, hatred crawled through her veins like fire, scathing every cell in her body. Her heart pounded erratically as if it couldn't decide between shattering or bursting into flames. She could still hear the whimpers of that night, all over again, replaying so clearly and vividly like it happened the day before—the shaking legs of her mother pinned to the floor, the hands of her best friend pinning her legs, and the image of his father when he strangled her. The images
It was getting dusk already. Elora wasn't as excited as others who got selected to go on board, to the cruise ship; she looked at the new maid uniform in her hand; it was better looking than the slave cloth she was wearing. It was of black and white color, the apron tied around the waist, the collar, and the tip of the gown hand were of white color. She looked at the nine others that are quickly changing into the new clothes with excitement." Why aren't you changing?" Vicky nudges." Nothing," she shook her head and began to undress.Ten slaves working in the mansion were hand-picked to work at the ship tonight; they did not pick any of the slaves that were meant to serve the Alphas alone, which was a disadvantage to those slaves as every slave dreamt about celebrating the night on the cruise and they envied those picked.They would be going on board to serve the elite that'll be at the VIP section, tend to their needs, serve them, and run errands, so Elora didn't find a reason to be
The bride’s dressing room was a paradox of beauty and menace. Soft golden light spilled from a crystal chandelier above, casting warm halos onto the walls painted in a muted cream tone. Ornate mirrors stood before the bride and her makeup artist. A bouquet of white roses sat in a porcelain vase, their delicate fragrance nearly masking the faint metallic tang of anxiety that hung in the air. Yet, despite the serene charm of the room, a chilling tension undercut its elegance. The bride's eyes, sharp and unyielding, scanned the room with a clinical detachment, her crimson-painted lips curving into a smile too perfect, too controlled with the room echoing her energy. Every gesture of hers was memorized, calm, and unnervingly charged, as if it, too, was complicit in whatever thoughts she concealed beneath her flawless exterior. This was no nervous bride preparing for her big day—this was a woman donning her armor, readying herself for something far darker than vows. Elora smiled, her to...
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