LOGIN"All three of us are going to f*ck you tonight, omega. Over and over until you're dripping with our cum and sobbing our names. And you're going to take every inch like the good little wife you are." Emerald Ukilah—the unwanted daughter, the pack outcast, the girl no one would miss—is now the wife of the three most dangerous Alphas alive. The Ravencourt triplets don't just want her body. They want her complete surrender. Her screams. Her tears. Every shuddering orgasm they can force from her trembling body. Magnus breaks her with brutal dominance, fucking her until she can't remember her own name. Daemon edges her for hours, teaching her that pleasure is a weapon and he's a master. Cassian pins her down and makes her keep her eyes open while he destroys her—but sometimes, in those brown eyes, she sees something that looks like worship. She was supposed to be a sacrifice. A lamb to the slaughter. But these wolves don't want to kill her. They want to keep her. Own her. Ruin her so completely that she'll never want another touch. ***** Why settle for one when you can have them all? Why Choose is a collection of steamy short stories where one woman never has to make the impossible choice. Four men? Three best friends? Two rivals who would burn the world just to share her? Each story explores a different fantasy, a different heat level, and the same answer every time—she doesn’t choose.Because when it comes to passion, love, and lust… why choose?
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If anyone had told me I would one day be getting married to the Triplet Alphas of the North, I would have laughed in disbelief. And considering I hardly ever had a reason to laugh for years now—that was something. So here I was, standing at the altar as I tried to listen to the vows. I felt like I could not breathe—this wasn't a life I dreamt of, not like I was ever allowed to dream. This wasn't what I wanted, but I never had a choice ever since I was born. And now, they are marrying me off to the dreaded triplets of the North to save our pack. I couldn't understand why me. My father, our pack's Alpha, could have chosen anyone to sacrifice—servants, Omegas, anyone—but I don't understand why he'd be so cruel to sacrifice me this way. Although I was never considered part of the family. I was an Alpha's daughter by birth. Stripped of every right. I didn't look the least like an Alpha's daughter. My step-siblings always said I was adopted. I don't know if that was true, especially as I had no idea who my real mother was. They called me an outcast. An Omega. I had been reduced to a slave, a pet for everyone to taunt. And now, a sacrifice to these deadly Alphas. A quick glance at either side of the grand court, I could see my stepmother and my step-siblings, each with a smug, satisfied look on their faces. Why wouldn't they be pleased? All my life, they were insistent on breaking me—and now the triplet Alphas would continue where they stopped. I feel numb. So numb. People say the Triplet Alphas are descendants of the moon goddess—but with vampiric traits. Extremely stronger than all Alphas combined. They had the power of a god. They'd burnt down packs with just a flick of their fingers. Killed people like it was a hobby. From the rumors, all their previous wives had died strangely. No one knew the cause of their death. All three of them. Some say they were fucked to death, unable to take them all—and the thought of that alone sent cold shivers running down my spine. Shivers that felt disturbingly like anticipation. "Do you, Emerald Ukilah, offer your body and soul, with everything you possess to Alpha Magnus Ravencourt?" I inhaled deeply as I forced my gaze to rest on the Alpha in front of me. And of course, he was glaring at me, impatience swirling in his blue eyes. Heat radiated off him in waves, making my skin prickle with awareness. "...I do." I replied hastily, avoiding his gaze. "And do you vow to be a submissive wife all the days of your life?" I swallowed painfully, letting the words sink in. The oracle made it seem like I had many more years to live. But I could see the pity in his eyes. I wasn't going to last. This was all for formality. They would use me to their heart's content and leave me to die. Maybe it was better to die this way. Maybe this was the moon goddess' way of answering my cries and prayers when I pleaded to be taken away from here, away from the anguish this pack and my so-called family had caused me. Be careful what you wish for, they say. But it's too late for me now. Strong hands gripped my arm, fingers digging into my flesh, causing me to gasp in pain—and something else I refused to name. "Do not fucking waste my time, Omega." The Alpha in front of me spat, eyes flashing with something predatory. "I..I'm sorry. I...I do." I responded shakily, hating how my body responded to his dominance, a forbidden warmth pooling low in my belly. He didn't release my arm, but his grip loosened slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel his gaze penetrating through me, as if he could sense every traitorous reaction my body was having. "And do you, Alpha Magnus Ravencourt, take Emerald Ukilah as your wife and soulmate?" "I do," he replied without so much as losing eye contact with me. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through my core. It was quiet for a long while. I was too aware of them all. The other Alphas standing beside me, their presence suffocating and intoxicating all at once. I could feel the gaze of my pack members on me. I forced my eyes toward my father where he sat, and he quickly lowered his gaze. He couldn't even look at me. My stepmother, the Luna, on the other hand, was different. A huge smile plastered on her face. I forced my gaze away. The oracle's words echoed through the tense silence. "Alpha Magnus. You may now seal the bond with the Soul-Tie Kiss." My heart pounded painfully in my chest. My palms were slick with sweat, and my legs trembled beneath me as if they might give out at any moment. This was it. The part I dreaded the most. And it wasn't just once—this was only the first. Two more waited for me after him. Alpha Magnus's eyes pinned me in place, sharp and merciless, a glint of dark promise flickering in their depths. He didn't waste a breath. He stepped forward, his gaze hard, hungry, as if I were prey he'd been stalking. His hand clamped around the back of my neck, forcing my head to tilt, exposing the vulnerable column of my throat. My breath hitched. His lips brushed against the tender spot just below my ear—then the sharp bite of his fangs pierced my skin. I gasped, body jerking, fear and something far more dangerous clawing up my throat. The bite wasn't deep, but I felt the heat of blood well to the surface, felt the sting melt into a searing pleasure that made my knees weak. A low, approving growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating against my skin, and to my horror, I felt myself grow slick between my thighs. Before I could even recover, he pulled back just enough to drag his own fang across his lip. A thin line of crimson beaded there, and then his mouth crushed against mine. The taste of iron—his blood, my blood—exploded across my tongue as our essence mingled. Heat shot down my spine, burning into every nerve, pooling between my legs with an intensity that terrified me. It was as if something ancient inside me had been unlocked, awakened. My head spun, my body trembling so hard I almost fell, but his hand at my neck held me still, forcing me to take all of it. His tongue invaded my mouth, claiming, conquering, and my body betrayed me completely—responding, yielding, aching. I shook uncontrollably, fear and arousal coiling together in my belly until I couldn't tell them apart. His kiss was impatient, demanding, binding me to him whether I wanted it or not. And the worst part? Some dark, primal part of me did want it. When he pulled back at last, his gaze burned with satisfied possession, as if to say *you're mine now*, and there was nothing I could do to undo it. As if he knew I didn't want this—and reveled in the fact that my body clearly did. I could feel the wetness between my thighs, the shameful evidence of my body's surrender. The next Alpha stepped forward. Standing tall in front of me with scowling blue eyes—the same piercing shade as Magnus. But where Magnus had been impatient, this one radiated controlled menace. The oracle's voice rolled out, heavy with ritual. "Do you, Emerald Ukilah, offer your body and soul, with everything you possess to Alpha Daemon Ravencourt?" "I do." My voice was barely a whisper now, still tasting Magnus on my lips. "And do you vow to be a submissive wife all the days of your life?" "I do." The words felt heavier this time, more real. "And do you, Alpha Daemon Ravencourt, take Emerald Ukilah as your wife and soulmate?" Daemon's lips curved into the faintest, chilling smirk. His voice was low, gravelly, designed to unnerve me—and it worked. "I do." "You may now seal the bond with the Soul-Tie Kiss."I couldn't answer. I was gasping, my vision going spotty at the edges, and for one long second neither of us moved at all."Look at me." His voice had changed completely — no roughness left in it, nothing performative, just something close to alarm. He turned me, carefully, onto my side, one hand coming up to my face. "Breathe. In through your nose. Look at me and breathe."I did, shaking, and he stayed like that, still inside me, utterly motionless, his thumb moving once — just once — across my cheekbone to catch a tear I hadn't realized had fallen.He didn't say anything about it. He didn't ask if I was okay in words, didn't apologize, didn't do anything that would have let me file this moment away as proof of something. He just waited, silent, until my breathing evened out, his thumb resting against my cheek like he'd forgotten to move it.Then, the second my breathing steadied, his expression closed back over, fast, like a door shutting."Better?" he asked, flat again, all the ala
Ezra didn't touch me right away.He stood at the edge of the bed for a long moment, looking at me the way he'd looked at me in the auction house — like he was checking for cracks — except this time there was something else underneath it, something hungrier, something he'd clearly been holding back all night and had run out of reasons to keep holding."Say something," he said."What do you want me to say?""I don't know." His voice was low, rougher than it had been in the car, in the meeting room. "Something that isn't a lie."I didn't have anything that wasn't a lie. I was exhausted, marked, shaking, and the only true thing left in me was fear, and I didn't think that was what he was asking for.He climbed onto the bed and I flinched back instinctively, and something tightened in his jaw when I did — not anger, not quite, something closer to a man absorbing a hit he'd expected and still didn't like taking. He didn't stop moving toward me. He just reached out, slow, and pushed a piece
"Don't mistake care for softness," he said, voice rough now, his other hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise exactly the way Roman's had. "I said I wouldn't damage you unnecessarily. I didn't say I'd be gentle."The whiplash of it — kindness and cruelty in the same five minutes, from the same hands — left me more disoriented than anything Roman had done, because at least Roman had never pretended to be anything other than what he was.He fucked me like that for a long time, controlled even in his roughness, never once losing the rhythm he'd set, watching my face the entire time like he was still checking, still measuring, still deciding something about me with every reaction he pulled out of my body. My third orgasm of the night crested slow and then broke all at once, and I heard myself say his name without meaning to, and something crossed his face when I did — quick, unreadable, gone before I could name it."Again," he said, voice tight now, his own control finally starting to
Silas closed the door behind him the same way he did everything — without wasted motion, without a sound.He finished unbuttoning his shirt while he looked at me, unhurried, his eyes moving over my body the way you'd check inventory rather than look at a person. I pulled the sheet up instinctively, and he noticed, and something in his face didn't change at all."Don't," he said. "It's not going to stay there."I let go of it. There wasn't a version of tonight where fighting him made anything better, and some part of me had already learned that lesson from the room downstairs.He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my ankle first — not my hip, not my throat, my ankle — turning it slightly, like he was checking for something."Does that hurt?" he asked.I blinked at him. "What?""Your ankle. You've been favoring it since the car." His thumb pressed once, testing. "Answer me.""No. It's fine."He held it a second longer, like he didn't fully believe me, then set it down and moved
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