Do Hippos Eat Meat

"I only want you, Theia. Always have always will and this shall never change. How could I ever want another when I possess the one I solely exist for?" "Phobos," I call his name fondly a need to hug him and breathe in his calming scent surfaces. "I do not wish to treat you like you are made of glass because you aren't. Your body was made for me and it can handle everything I choose to give it. And this I will prove it to you." "When?" I ask breathlessly as he ultimately turns around to meet my curious eyes. Golden rings outline his irises his beast announcing his presence and they stand as one before me. A wicked smile paints his face with a flash of canine displayed to me. A promise he gives that I will be ruthlessly devoured. "When I fuck you senseless." ~~~ After years of excruciating loneliness, Phobos approached me. A frightening beast, my soulmate who emerged from within the bounds of a ruthless storm. The male I yearned for. He caught me off guard and I was under the spell he cast through his ocean eyes. A spell I couldn't defeat and that very moment I knew I was in trouble. The second our eyes met I knew he would bring me endless heartache. We were childhood friends, him and I. Phobos the gentle juvenile I grew up with vanished and was replaced by a cold-hearted barbarian, he terrified me as he killed many with a blink of his eyes where his beast was often in control surging forward consuming his senses. They were equals. How can I connect with a beast like him? How could I make him call me his? How can I love my childhood friend who has become a monster?

"Kane stays unmoving, and I realize he’s barely breathing. I don’t think he needs oxygen to stay alive, so that’s not too surprising, but I can’t’ figure out why he is so still. His hand at my waist is so very close to my breastbone, the longing for him to slide it up only a few inches, to touch me in places no one ever has before, has a gasp leaving my lips. I have to bite down again to keep from moaning, and he hasn’t even kissed me yet." Emory I was born to be the Alpha of my pack. But now... I am here, in the castle of our greatest enemy, the Vampire King. I should hate Kane, but the more time I spend with him, the more I long for him. I am not here to be his lover, though. I am here to be his feeder. But even before his lips graze my skin the first time, I know I would give myself to him in every way imaginable if only he should ask. Kane I long to taste the wolf shifter, but not her blood, her body. But I'm already betrothed to marry another vampire, and if I call that off, I have resigned my kingdom to yet another war. There has to be a way to keep Emory as my feeder but not claim her in my bed. I just haven't figured it out yet. But I have enemies, and every moment she spends here in my home, Castle Graystone, she's in danger. I can protect her, but at what cost? Am I willing to risk everything to make her mine? Or should I put my duty to my kingdom first?

I met evil when I was a teenager. It never left me after that, hovered over me like a dark cloud, followed me everywhere. When I least expected, he barged into my life like he owned it. Kidnapped and vulnerable, I am trapped on a stranded island with no way out. There's nowhere I can hide. I am afraid. I fear his gentleness more than his cruelity. I don't know if I can survive this but I do know that one of us will be ruined by the time this ends. Every princess dreams about meeting a prince charming. I don't get the prince, I get the King who wants to rule over everything. He's a Beast but I am no Belle. The Beauty changed the beast. The Beast fell in love with her. A beautiful fairytale it was. The Beast doesn't love me, I can't tame him. This isn't a love story. It's a story of obsession. 18+. Not your traditional Mafia Romance. Proceed with Caution.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

After I started working at the zoo, I was added to a group chat called “A Hundred Ways to Kill a Human.” Every member had an animal as their profile picture. At first, I thought it was some quirky staff group. I even found it kind of cute. That was, until I realized they were discussing how to eat me. Pedro the Parrot: [The new human has beautiful eyes. I can’t wait till Christmas. I want to peck them out right now!] George the Gorilla: [Relax. There’ll be many visitors during Christmas. We’ll have more eyeballs than we can eat! Also, I’m calling dibs on her thigh.] Thor the Tiger: [Nobody’s taking her head, right? That’s mine.] Tucker the Elephant: [I’m a vegetarian, but I can crush her bones to dust.]