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Where She Walks.
Last Updated:
2025-07-26 19:17:52
Latest chapter
The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates Fate Doesn't Ask.
I was dozing, elbow on the armrest, cheek in my palm, when I felt the shift. A ripple in the air, electric and wrong, no, not wrong, just powerful. A pulse of heat that didn’t belong in the sea-cooled sanctuary of my room. My eyes snapped open. She was sitting up. Layah. Her multicoloured eyes were glowing, not shimmering like before, but lit, as if fire had found its home behind them. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, fast breaths, and the ocean itself seemed to hold its tide for her next move.“Back the fuck up.”Her voice cracked like a whip, raw and instinctual, as if she was still fighting her way out of whatever dream or memory she’d been trapped in.“Hey...” I stood slowly, hands raised. “You’re safe.”She shot to her feet, bare, beautiful, furious and glowing with so much wild magic it made the walls tremble. The air around her shimmered with heat, even in the damp. Her feet didn’t quite touch the floor.“Where am I?” she hissed, eyes darting to the vaulted ceiling of glowin
The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates Intense Boyfriends.
I couldn’t stop pacing.The mark still pulsed beneath my collar, a low throb like a second heartbeat. Every time I brushed my fingers over it, something inside me stirred, something ancient, something watching. I knew what it was before I even saw it in the mirror. But it wasn’t until I caught my reflection, the faint glow of silver curling along my neck like a vine etched in starlight, that I believed it. She had marked me. And not just any mark. It was the one whispered about in songs older than our kingdom. The Soulclaw. The mark of the world-changer. The mate destined not just to complete you, but to bind you, body and soul. To tether magic, fate, and power together in a way that had only ever existed in legend. And she had given it to me, in her sleep. I left the room without a word to my attendants, still half-drenched from surf and shadows. She was safe, curled under woven silk, her breath slow and even, the faint shimmer of her gills still adapting. But I couldn’t sit beside h
The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates The Tides Were Waiting.
JeramiahShe was unconscious in my arms, but I’d never seen anyone look so alive. Her skin still shimmered faintly with the aftermath of battle, with the echo of magic that clung to her like a second skin. It pulsed against mine, not just power, but soul. And when I looked at her, I didn’t see an enemy. I didn’t even see a stranger. I saw mine. I swam toward the drop-off, where the trench curved downward into the ancient abyss that hid our sanctum. Cold currents kissed my skin. The fortress lights flickered below, blue and soft and distant and then I froze. She wouldn’t survive it. Not the pressure. Not the water. Not the depth. She wasn’t built for the sea. Not yet. My heart pounded once, deep and decisive. I stared down at her face, relaxed now, lips parted, lashes dusting high cheekbones. She didn’t even know she was his yet. Didn’t know her soul had sung back when mine had called. But sirens knew their mates the way the ocean knew the moon and when a siren marked their mate… their
The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates A Siren's Song.
The morning fog clung low over the warehouse as we packed our things for the final leg of the journey. The air was sharp, crisp with the salt of the approaching coast, and every breath tasted like a warning. We were close. Too close. Elijah stood just outside the broken doorway, his eyes trained on the horizon, arms crossed, shoulders taut. He looked better than he had days ago, less gaunt, less shadowed but still... not whole. He hadn’t fed since last night when I offered him my neck, and it showed. The bond between us tugged again, quieter than the others, but persistent. Hunger. Hesitation. Shame. I moved toward him without a word, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He didn’t flinch this time.“Elijah,” I murmured, “you should feed before we go.”His eyes snapped to mine. “Layah, no. You’ve given too much already. I can hold out until...”“You don’t have to.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice to a whisper only he would hear. “I want you strong. Not starving beside me.”He hesitate
The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates Sunrise and Starlight.
LayahWarmth. That was the first thing I registered, heat pooled at my back, a steady thrum of calm through the bond, like sun on stone. Dylan. Of course it was Dylan. His magic hummed around me like a heartbeat, grounded and slow, content in a way that made my own chest loosen. Then came the second tether. Sharper. Quieter. A thread of ice that wasn’t cold, just… still. Controlled. Elijah. I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know he was nearby. He burned differently, like moonlight pressed into shadow, always on the edge of disappearing but never quite gone. But he was here. And he was… steady. For the first time since I’d met him, the storm inside him had eased. I blinked awake slowly, the faded warehouse ceiling coming into focus above me. Dylan shifted behind me, his arm draped loosely around my waist, and I smiled as I felt his nose press into my hair.“Mm,” he murmured sleepily. “You’re warm again.”“You’re a furnace,” I whispered back.His chuckle rumbled through my spine, lo
The Fierce Little Thing And Her Five Mates One Of Hers.
ElijahShe moaned and it undid me. The sound tore through me like lightning in a dry forest, igniting something I’d tried to bury. Something primal. Something I wasn’t sure I had the right to feel, not for her, not for this creature who offered herself so freely, so willingly, when I had no way of giving anything back. But gods, the taste of her… It wasn’t just blood. It was life. It was wildfire and moonlight. Magic laced with storm. My venom tried to seal the wound too soon, my instincts confused between preserving her and devouring her. She smelled like heat and power and need, and I could feel her heart pounding against my chest like it wanted to be claimed. Like it belonged to me. My hands slid up her back, one pressing between her shoulder blades to hold her close, the other curling low at her waist, fingers splayed like I was trying to memorize her shape through touch alone. I should have pulled away. I should have stopped. But I couldn’t. She was feeding me. And for the first
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