Brutal Vows Jt Geissinger Novels & Stories

But the voice that came from her mouth wasn't hers. It was Veronica's. Jonathan stepped backward. For the first time since Ava had known him, fear completely erased the confidence from his face. "No," he whispered. The screens surrounding them flickered. One by one, they displayed the same message. SYSTEM REBIRTH: 72% Then, ARCHITECT COUNT: 4 Jonathan stared. "Genesis," he whispered. The word seemed to shake the entire room. "What have you done?" A low laugh came from Ava's body. Veronica's laugh.

He pointed at Livia again. “And now your daughter is doing the same thing!” The whip swung again. SMACK! Livia staggered, but still covered her mother’s body. Robert looked at them with disgust. “Cheap blood never changes.” He spat on the floor. “Women like you only know how to spread your legs to get a better life.” Rossa cried even harder. But Livia remained silent. Her head slowly turned. Her eyes finally met Adrian De Luca’s gaze. The man was still standing in the same place.

He trembled as he slowly rose. "Very well," he whispered, his voice barely audible, like a sigh. The Silvermoon and Blackrock packs had gathered within the temple. I stood before the statue of the Moon Goddess, voice echoing across the sacred hall. "On this holy night of the Blood Moon, I have three announcements for the packs. First, Damian, I, Eva Lopez, deliver your judgment." A hush fell over the temple. Damian's eyes were vacant, his body drained of all life. I studied his hollow face and uttered deliberately, "For the sake of power, you betrayed the Blood Moon vow. You forcibly broke your mate bond with Chloe, provoked a war, and shed the blood of your people.

“Repeat after me.” Marcus straightened. “I, Marcus Newton—” “I, Marcus Newton.” “Will never prioritize my desires over the members of the Greywolf Pack...............................” Bella watched as Marcus recited the oath, his voice steady but lacking the conviction of a true Alpha. “So help me, Great One,” Alpha Cyrus finished. Marcus repeated, “So help me, Great One.”

His face was pale, his clothes wrinkled, and fear was evident in his wide eyes. They forced him onto his knees in the center of the room before stepping aside, while Diago took his place beside me. The VIP room fell into an eerie silence. The man looked up nervously. "Mr. King, I..." Before he could finish, I stood up and stubbed my cigarette out in the ashtray on the table in front of me. My polished shoes clicked against the marble floor as I slowly approached him. Then without warning I punched him hard. A painful cry escaped his lips as my fist collided with his face. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he nearly collapsed to the floor.

Her reflection stares back at her—stunning, untouched, dangerous. She smiles—not sweetly. It’s the kind of smile forged from betrayal and calculated survival. IMANI (softly, like a promise) The truth. (she lifts her chin) Dressed in vengeance. She hits the “Go Live” button… but doesn’t speak immediately. She lets the viewer count rise, lets the silence drag—until tension becomes currency. Only then does she lean forward, eyes burning into the camera like a woman ready to wage war.

All I needed was a little faith, but everyday the light I saw at the end of the tunnel dwindled and it scared me. Zane shifted his gaze towards me the instant I made an attempt to stop the cheer. I could see in his eyes satisfaction and hatred. Satisfaction from the work he was doing and hatred for me. It was plain obvious that he was enjoying himself. He derived pleasure from torturing me and with the sexual exploration that was happening, his joy had escalated. I immediately began voicing the disgusting words that he had ordered me to say. I didn't want trouble from him any longer. He had already done enough and all I wanted right now was for them to finish and dismiss me as soon as possib

Only mine. "Wait, Giovanni… what is this?" Tristan’s voice was a whisper, laced with confusion and a hint of trepidation. "Drive," I commanded again. Tristan started to speak again, "Giovanni, you can’t just–" Before he could finish, I lunged, pinning him against the backrest, my arm a steel bar across his chest. He gasped, his eyes widening. My mouth crashed down on his, a brutal, possessive assault. There was no gentleness, no coaxing. Only raw, unbridled fury. I bit down hard on his lower lip, drawing blood, tasting the metallic tang of it, and a savage satisfaction rippled through me. He gave a soft cry, a whimper of pain, but I didn’t release him.

Even I had a chill up my spine watching Vinnie stand over José, ready to pounce and end his life. I stepped towards Luis with my words aimed at José. “Gio me dijo de confiar en mi intuición, y me está diciendo que estas escondiendo algo.” (Gio told me to trust my gut, and my gut is telling me you’re hiding something.) The knife in my hand was lighter than I expected as I lifted it to José’s neck and dragged it carefully over his adam’s apple. “Vinnie me ha enseñado a convertir mi dolor en poder.” (Vinnie here, he taught me to turn my pain into power.)