Booktok Thirst Trap Novels & Stories

He was standing there looking at his master plan being implemented to perfection As the girl broke down in tears he smirked enjoying her pain On the other hand there stood the girl who he trained to perfection The girl who was able to deceive the king The girl who will bring both the king and his mate down He knew what the king was looking for He knew he searched for the girl with the mark And he also knew the mark Resurrection of the thunder wolf will have the thunder mark A book in the kings office says this And he has well read all the historical books to know about this fact. The king thought no one knew this but he was an exception The exception was none other than his worst enemy

The crimson shimmering, settling in the minute curves of the grain, listing in small waves before crashing between the planks to sink out of sight into the boards. The wide slabs opening their tiny, infinite, thirsty mouths to drink her, holding her to their tongues, tickling their palates with her notes—fear, disbelief, panic, regret—before swallowing slow, savoring her like a rare, coveted bottle of red wine. Torso deep, the book bit again, and again, inhaling her to her armpits. Her hand now trapped above her head, elbow to ear, her fingers grasped useless air. Her mouth opening in the beginning of a scream, she saw them.

A rim of cool metal presses against my lips. Liquid sloshes at the barrier of cracked skin, cooling, life giving. Water. The moment I taste it I realize how thirsty I am. My throat aches with dryness. I drink greedily, gulp after gulp, until the cup is empty. I'm panting when I'm done, my throat burns. “Easy there. That’s it,” the voice murmurs, “slow breaths.” I inhale, shaky. My vision blurs, then begins to sharpen.

I could barely even speak, my voice was gone due to the loss of energy and blood. My hope died instantly. I wasn't being rescued, I was being captured. *** I sat on the cold, damp ground hugging my knees. Rough stone walls surrounded me, cracked and chipped, creating the feeling of a trap. I felt trapped, like a mouse in a rattrap. My fingers were covered in frost, my tongue stuck to the roof of my tongue from thirst. Hunger tormented me - from time to time, I was barely fed or given water. I tried swallowing my saliva just to quench my thirst, but it was futile.

He looked dangerous. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly going dry. My heart started thumping against my ribs—a fast, erratic beat. I should delete it. I should block the number. I should call security and have him dealt with. But I didn't. I stared at the photo, my thumb hovering over the screen. I could feel the heat rising in my body. The shame was there, but it was being drowned out by a raw, terrifying hunger. He was baiting me. He was showing me exactly what I couldn't have, knowing that I wanted it more than my own reputation.

I walked towards the shelf and squatted. With a click sound, I opened the hidden drawer on the last shelf and dragged out a dusty blue book - The real ancient witch’s book. “You said the book was missing,” Athaliah sneered, impatience rolled off her in bouts. “I set a trap just in case Ithra had other things up her sleeve. I got her in here and dangled the bait in her eyes.” I cleared my throat. “Eventually, she fell for it. But that’s beside the point. I picked up the fake version of the book in the woods on my way from picking herbs. Someone got a little angry at the lack of results and burned a part of it.”

"Have some beer if you don't want the juice. Drink with us." This time, I didn't turn them down. I gulped down the beer. The fragrance of malt filled every inch of my mouth. The beer streamed into my stomach, bringing with it a slight coolness. I was a good drinker, but that beer made me feel drowsy too soon. Not only that, I felt an odd sense of heat. It was a different sensation from being drunk. Seeing that I was tipsy, Howard immediately approached me. Gazing at me, he said sympathetically, "You're a poor drinker, I see. We shouldn't have poured that much for you…"

I asked, interlacing my fingers that were placed on the bar table. “Yes… of course.” She readjusted her form, placing her hands under her chin. I can tell by the way she looks at me that she's ready to pay keen attention to whatever comes out of my mouth. “Well,” I blew a sigh as I squeezed the bridge of his nose, “Do you ever feel trapped? like having to be caught up in the decision you made of your own will? And it feels like you want to vent and terminate the one who'd set that trap and simultaneously find your way out of the trap.”