Bait Used To Be Believable Novels & Stories

Mia Pov “Dare me again,” I begged, my voice hoarse and desperate. I was lying on the couch, legs spread obscenely wide, covered in thick loads of cum from four much older men. My pussy and ass leaked their seed, my tits were glazed, and my fingers still rubbed my swollen, cum-smeared clit in slow, filthy circles.

Further updates will be provided as appropriate. It was perfect. Ambiguous enough to—to sound like real doubt. Specific enough to—to make Emily believe Phase Two had partially succeeded. Vulnerable enough to—to make her think I was—was open to alternatives. Bait that obsessive human couldn't—couldn't resist. "Send it," I told Dad. "Release it to—to everyone. Make sure Emily's network sees it. Make sure—sure she knows I'm questioning the bond. Then—then we wait for her to—to take the bait."

he asked. Timothy didn’t answer immediately. Then— “Yes.” Elliot turned back sharply. “And you didn’t think to mention that?” “I needed to confirm it.” Elliot stared at him. “You used me as bait.” A pause. “Yes.” The wind carried the silence between them. Elliot let out a short, disbelieving breath. “Unbelievable.” Timothy didn’t respond. Elliot looked back at the cart. It hadn’t moved again. Waiting. Just like before.

“And this is far from over.” I gave a tired smile, “Nice pep talk.” He sat down next to me, resting his elbows on his knees. “You don’t need a pep talk. You need the truth.” He studied me for a long moment. Not like someone trying to solve a puzzle, but someone who knew all the answers. “You were bait,” he said finally. “They took something important to get to me. It will always be this way. The position that I’m in, the people I had killed, and so much more. You were just leverage to get me.”

I couldn’t let anyone know what I was. Just then, a farmer caught my attention. He looked strong and cautious. Something told me he was a perfect bait. I smiled and walked over to where he was, “hey…I have coins for you.” I handed him coin. “Watch the Luna,” I said, my voice low. “See how she moves. See what she says. I will pay more if you bring me truth.” His eyes widened. “I… I don’t….” “You’ll have enough to last a year,” I said, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “But you fail… and you’re dead.”

Anais placed a hand on his arm. “You okay?” Cassian looked at her, surprised by how much that simple touch settled him. “Not really,” he said. “Good,” she said gently. “That means you still care.” He stared at her for a beat too long. Then nodded once. “I’ll send the bait drop now.” The fake intel was sent just after 7 a.m.—encrypted, routed through Cassian’s old comms network. Just enough details to be believable. Just enough bait to draw a greedy hand.

I sat on my bed, elated that I had the room to myself for a while before the others returned. I needed to do something to draw Asta out. That was the only way the truth would come out but how? I racked my brain a while, nothing coming to light except a terribly scary idea. Setting myself as bait. I knew for a fact that Asta wouldn't be able to resist killing me off and when she would try to do that, Justin would be there to subdue her. That way, he would be able to find out her identity and see that I had been right all along. There would be no questions as to whether I lied or not since he would be able to see the truth for himself.

“She might think it’s a scam.” “She will,” I said with a smirk. “But we’ll make it believable. A website. Testimonials. Even a phone number she can call to verify.” Over the next hour, my team worked tirelessly to build the illusion. The website gleamed with professionalism, photos of winners holding oversized checks, a glowing banner announcing the giveaway. The phone number led to one of my people, who had been coached to sound credible. “Send it,” I ordered. The message went out. Now, we waited.

The words send a chill through me. “You really believe the crash was intentional.” “I believe the timing is suspicious.” I fold my arms, leaning slightly against the table. “The footage wasn’t even complete.” “No.” “It could be coincidence.” “Possible.” “But you still showed it.” “Yes.” Frustration flickers through me. “You’re very comfortable with uncertainty.” “I’m comfortable forcing people to reveal themselves.” The meaning behind that sentence sinks slowly into place. “You’re baiting them.” His expression doesn’t change. “Yes.” The realization makes my stomach tighten.

"You sound certain. You are not in the pack house, Zelda. How do you know how he has proceeded?" My heart did a violent flip against my ribs. I had slipped up. My wolf panicked, thrashing against the bond, but I forced my face to remain flat, crafting a quick, desperate lie. "I lived with him for years, Bane," I said, my voice dripping with a bitter, calculated realism. "I am his fated mate—or at least, I was. I know exactly how his mind works. He is a master manipulator. He doesn't wait for truth; he creates his own. I don't need a news report to know he’s already painting you as a monster to protect his own claim."