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A Taste of Temptation
Last Updated:
2025-05-28 15:36:25
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Submission is Not My Style The Alpha's Deadly Grip
The forest is too quiet.Towering trees stretch toward the night sky, their branches weaving together like skeletal fingers, blocking out most of the moonlight. But I don’t need the moon to see. My heightened senses pick up every shift in the shadows, every rustle of leaves beneath our steps, every distant heartbeat of unseen creatures lurking nearby.Jack’s sister moves effortlessly through the darkness, as if she belongs to it. I trail behind her, my senses sharp, my guard up. I don’t trust her. I don’t trust anyone—except, for some reason, Fury.She may have freed me from that cell, but that doesn’t mean I owe her anything. For all I know, she could be leading me straight to my death.I steal another glance at her, noting once again the striking resemblance to Jack. The same silver eyes. The same confident stride, as if she owns the very ground she walks on.“So,” I say casually, though I’m not joking, “you’re not secretly kidnapping me, are you? Or, I don’t know, leading me somewh
Submission is Not My Style The Unexpected Ally
Kali"Never mind," I mutter, waving Fury off.He dips his head in a short bow before turning away, his footsteps fading into the dark hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts.I exhale sharply and open the book he brought, forcing myself to focus on the words, but the letters blur together.Frustrated, I sink onto the cold floor, flipping through the pages and trying again. But no matter how hard I try, my mind stubbornly refuses to cooperate.Instead, it spins with questions.Who was Jack’s first mate?What did she look like? Did she reject him? Or did he reject her?And more importantly… where is she now?Is she still alive… Or dead?But most of all—why did he accept her rejection when he refuses to accept mine? Did he love her?A sharp pang tightens in my chest, something bitter, ugly, and unwanted churning in my stomach.Jealousy.I scowl at the very thought, gripping the book so tightly my knuckles turn white before I hurl it across the cage with a frustrated growl. The hardcov
Submission is Not My Style Trapped in the Alpha's Lair
My lips curl into a smirk.“Oh?” I taunt. "Did you think you were Special just because we are mate? That you could use the mate bond to make me accept you?" I tilt my head, eyes flashing with challenge. "I rejected one mate before you, and I’ll reject you just as easily.""So that’s what’s giving you confidence," he snarls, his fingers twitching like he’s seconds away from grabbing me. "You think I’m just like your pathetic excuse of a first mate?"His ego is wounded, his rage palpable.I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.Then, without warning, he steps back. The sudden loss of his warmth leaves me breathless."I didn’t want to go this far," he murmurs, his voice both a promise and a curse. "But you’re giving me no choice."His next words are a vow."You’ll eat those words. I’ll make damn sure of it."Before I can react, his fingers clamp around my wrist like a steel shackle."Let me go, you bastard!" I thrash against his grip, but he drags me forward, his hold unyielding. My feet
Submission is Not My Style Shattered Submission
KaliJack’s fingers dig into my waist, his breath hot against my neck, but I refuse to let him think he has the upper hand. My eyes burn with fire as I glare at him, my jaw clenched so tight I can feel the tension in my bones. How dare he? How dare he act as if he wasn’t the one who sent Fury after me—who ordered him to bring me back by any means necessary, or else face death?Normally, I wouldn’t have cared. Fury was just another warrior from Blood Fang, someone I would’ve left behind without a second thought. But the moment I looked into his eyes, something shifted. There was something there—something familiar. And the thought of him dying because of me… it didn’t sit well.That’s why I came back. Not for Jack. Not for this pack.And certainly not because of this damn mate bond.I take a steadying breath, forcing my lips into a tight smile. “My lord. Your greatest Alpha.” The words taste like venom on my tongue. “Can we talk for a minute? Alone?”Jack doesn’t even blink as his silv
Submission is Not My Style Shadows of Possession
Kali’s POV“What do you say, Luna?”The voice snaps me out of my thoughts, yanking me back to the present. I blink, realizing I had been lost—lost in the memory of Jack’s cruel words, lost in the horrifying reality of what returning to him would mean."You either stay out here and risk your life, or you come with me," the warrior says. His tone is oddly gentle for someone suggesting I walk back into the devil’s den.I meet his gaze, searching for any hint of deception, but there’s none. His eyes remain warm, kind—too kind for someone from Blood Fang. And yet, here he is again, hovering over me like some unwanted guardian angel.A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “I’m sorry,” I say with sarcasm. “But I can’t go back with you to Blood Fang. I’d rather die out here than set foot in that hellhole again and return to your beast of an Alpha.” My throat tightens, but I push through. “Only the Moon Goddess knows what he’d do to me if I went back.”The warrior—whatever his name is—shifts uncomfor
Submission is Not My Style No Way Back
Kali’s POVThe world feels distant, as if I’m trapped in a dream—floating, no, sinking—caught between reality and darkness. A sharp, relentless throbbing pulses through my skull, and my body feels unbearably heavy.Am I dreaming? Is this what dying feels like?The last thing I remember is the betrayal—the wicked cackle of that old woman and the greedy voices of those bastards, plotting to sell me off like a damn object.I should have known. I should have learned my lesson. But I didn’t.And now… there’s a sound.A noise so foreign in this desolate place, yet so familiar it stirs something deep inside me. Whimpers. Choked sobs. The distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh—a body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.What…?I try to move, but my limbs refuse to obey. My eyelids flutter open weakly, my vision blurred, the edges swimming in darkness. There’s movement—no, a shadow. A figure stands tall, fists striking down with brutal force, beating someone into the dirt.A man.Through t
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