All Chapters of The Raven Wolf King: Wolfless: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Raphael I don’t know what the fuck this is. I can’t stop thinking about her. This shouldn’t be happening. It’s as if… I’m obsessed with her. Only fated mate bonds do this, and ours doesn’t exist anymore. I’m sure I felt it break that night. I close my eyes and see her clearly—the way she stood in my shower that day, the water tracing every curve of her skin. I begin to imagine a different outcome than what really happened. My hand glides down her back, and she shivers beneath my touch. She turns to meet my gaze, and I claim the lips I’ve wanted since the night I first cornered her. My fingers tangle in her hair, tilting her head back as my mouth finds her neck. She trembles against me, her breath catching, and the sound of her soft moan tells me she feels it too—the bond neither of us can deny. “Raphael?” “What?” I ask. The haze vanishes, and I’m now sitting on my throne, watching the multitude of people dance around. Urien sighs. “Where’s your head at tonight?” On the most beau

Valeria The next morning, I woke with thoughts of Raphael still lingering, only to be dragged to breakfast in another vast chamber. Nearly as grand as the ballroom. It could almost pass for one, though this hall is lined with long dining tables. At the far end, a row of thrones dominates the space, the largest set in the center with a long table before them. The King sits upon his throne, flanked by his three legitimate sons, and Tobias’s mate at his side. The moment we enter, Tobias and Raphael’s eyes lock on me, and I feel the weight of their gaze. Nolan walks up to us and bows. “Alpha Albert, you and your family have been invited to dine at the table closest to the King.” Oh no! Please no! Don’t let what happened with the King’s fated mate slip. Father looks back at us with a smile, and then we follow Nolan as he leads us to the table. Prince Emmet is already there waiting for us. “Alpha King, we are honored,” Father says as we all bow. The King’s hand rises slightly—a sign o

Valeria I see a great battle unfolding, though it feels ancient, like centuries ago. I glide above the chaos, watching a man command the field—the Raven Wolf King. He looks exactly like the tapestry, yet far more magnificent. Authority radiates from him, laced with arrogance. Ravens circle overhead, as if bound to his will. Across the field, a man with bright blond hair stands in golden armor, the snarling face of a wolf etched into his insignia. The clash between them is inevitable. Two kings, blades flashing, locked in a duel of skill and fury. Neither yields. In the end, both drive their swords into each other’s chests, killing each other. Darkness swallows everything, and suddenly a throne appears, solitary in the void. A strange man sits upon it, unmoving, as if asleep. A raven descends, perching on the throne’s edge. The vision blurs, and finally, my vision returns. I see my own body broken. My eyes stare upward, unblinking, as blood seeps from the crack in my skull. My neck i

Valeria “Raphael?” I complain. When we’re in his room, he throws me on his bed. The book falls to the floor. Watching me as I maneuver myself to sit up, he takes his shirt off and then begins unbuckling his pants. His eyes stare at me as if I were his prey. There’s something raw about him right now, and I like it. When his pants are undone, he pulls me by the legs all the way until I’m at the edge of the bed. “Come here.” His voice is so low and gruff. Picking me up, he hooks my legs around him and kisses me, stealing the air from my lungs until neither of us has any breath left. When we part, he throws me on the bed again, but this time he rips the button of my pants when he forcefully opens them. He holds my hips, and I ready myself for him to take my pants off, but instead, he turns me around and bends me over the edge of the bed. I try to get up, but he holds my hair in his fist and pins me in place with my cheek pressed against the mattress. He’s rough, and I love it. I’ve n

Raphael I watch Valeria open her mouth. She sticks her tongue out and licks the tip of my dick. She looks up, locking eyes with me. It entices me to grab her by the hair and hold her in place. “Open,” I demand. Her lips part, and I slowly slide inside her mouth. A moan escapes me as my eyes flutter shut, lost in the rush of pleasure. Her wet, soft tongue moving from side to side speeds my release, but I don’t want it to end this fast, so I pull away. With suddenness, and one hand, she holds my dick, cupping my balls. Her other hand grips the middle of my length, and then she slips the rest into her mouth. Her hands massage while she bobs her head back and forth. I have to hold on to the desk to keep balance, my body wanting to shudder. A rough grunt slips out as I fight to muffle the moans beneath it. After a few good minutes of this, her mouth starts sucking, and it feels so damn good that it’s like she’s drawing the very soul from me. I let out a moan, on the edge of release, an