Romances de Noorie

_Maureen LaurentI wake up drowning in him.The black furs are soaked with us—sex and sweat and blood—and they cling to my skin like a second, heavier shame.My thighs are sticky.My breasts ache.Between my legs feels swollen, tender, used in a way that makes heat crawl up my neck even now.The bite on my shoulder throbs with every heartbeat, a living brand that whispers his name over and over.Vuk.Vuk.Vuk.I reach for him before my eyes are even open, fingers searching the ruined bed for seven feet of scorching heat and golden eyes.Nothing.The sheets beside me are cold.My stomach caves in.I sit up too fast. The room tilts. Every muscle protests; my thighs tremble, and something warm and thick slides out of me and down the inside of my leg.His seed.Still inside me.Still leaking.Proof.I yank the fur up to my chin like it can hide me from what I let him do—what I begged him to do.The mirror across the room is shattered.The floor is littered with shredded silk and silver du

Vuk Kael Laskovic Mine.The word is a war drum in my skull.I carry her through the fortress like I’m carrying the moon itself, and every wolf between me and my chambers drops to their knees so fast their spines crack. Good. Let them break. I will break the fucking world if one more person breathes the same air as her before I’ve buried myself inside her and made sure she’ll never smell like anyone else again.The doors to my private wing explode off their hinges the second my shoulder touches them. Wood splinters. Iron screams. I don’t slow down.I kick the bedroom door shut behind us; the impact rattles the walls hard enough to shatter a mirror. I don’t care. Nothing exists except the tiny, shaking female in my arms and the scent of lunar blood and slick that is currently rewriting every law of my existence.I set her on her feet only long enough to rip the remnants of that bastard’s coat off her body. Silk tears like tissue. The collar Cassian dared put on her snaps between my fin

𝐌𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 La𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 I used to think love was gentle.My mother warned me a hundred times.“Silas Vane is a wolf with ambition in his teeth, Maureen. He will smile while he eats your heart.”I laughed. Fought her. Screamed that she didn’t understand love, that she was cruel for trying to tear me from the only boy who ever made me feel safe.The last time we argued, she was eight months heavy with my little brother, hand pressed to her belly, tears in her eyes.“One day,” she whispered, “you will remember this moment and hate yourself for not listening.”I stormed out.Three weeks later she was dead.Silas’s hands around my throat. His mother’s cold laugh. Celeste’s golden hair tangled in his fist while they planned to sell my family’s land the same night they sold my corpse.I never got to tell her she was right.I never got to say sorry.Now I’m curled on a velvet chaise in a stranger’s mansion, wearing nothing but a man’s coat and a collar that burns every time I breathe to

– Vuk Kael LaskovićI was watching three naked omegas grind against each other on my bed when the scent hit me.For three hundred and fifty years nothing has made my cock twitch. I have taken every hole offered, broken every body that begged, and still woke up cold. Tonight was supposed to be the same mindless ritual: bare tits bouncing, slick dripping on black silk, moans rehearsed to perfection. I had one hand around a traitor’s throat and the other wrapped around a glass of infernal wine, already planning which omega I’d knot first and which one I’d let bleed out after.Then it punched through the walls like divine violence.Lunar blood.Pure.Untouched.Mine.The crystal glass slipped from my fingers and shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. Wine bled across the marble like fresh slaughter.Every wolf in the room froze. The traitor at my feet pissed himself, hot urine soaking my boots. The omegas stopped mid-moan, thighs trembling, eyes wide with animal fear.I stood slowly

Maureen LaurentIce water slapped my face.“Wake up, whores!”The scream came with the next bucket. I lurched upright on the freezing stone floor, chains clinking, scrambling into line before the whip found my back again. Twenty naked, shivering girls pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in the dark. The stench of piss, blood, and terror coated the air.I wasn’t born for this.Once, I had silk sheets and a father who called me “little star.” Once, I had a mother’s hand on my cheek and a fiancé who swore he’d die for me.Now I had welts that never healed and a collar burned into my throat that said PROPERTY OF THE NORTHERN DOMINION.The overseer—a scarred wolf with a missing ear—strode down the row, boot splashing through the puddles. His gaze snagged on the blind girl two bodies to my left. Pale as bone, nineteen at most, trembling so hard her chains rattled like bells.“You—crawling on the floor like a worm. What the fuck are you doing?”Her voice cracked. “I-I dropped my bread, sir… I’m sor