Cromwell Witches

Fear crept in, I couldn't lose her, and there was no time to rush back to the hospital. But then, without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers. It was more like my wolf, Jean was in control, pulling me closer to her. She opened her lips, allowing me. Instantly, I felt her pain, the burning agony in her leg. It all flooded into me, and after a while, the whole pain was gone. My breath hitched, but I didn’t pull away. There was no pain anymore, just how soft and sweet her lips were. She extracted her hand from mine and pulled me closer by the neck. She didn't want me to stop either. I felt like going further and tearing off her clothes; I wanted her; I've always desired her. If only she wasn't wolf-less, if only she was strong, she would have been perfect for me. She rolled her tongue inside me, making me grip her tighter. I began heaving, I wanted more. ******** Louisa was a wolf-less girl rejected and killed by her fated mate, the ruthless Alpha Scott. He intended to pick a worthy mate of his choice after her demise but she was brought back to life by a coven of witches who had a vendetta against him. She returns with no memory of who she was or the betrayal that led to her demise but on realisation that Scott wants her dead, she finds a way to stall and plans her escape. Alpha Scott falls deeply for her but refuses to ever admit it. Sooner than later, she begins to remember who she was and plans her revenge with the witches. Now, with revenge in her heart and magic on her side, Louisa must choose: love him… or destroy him..

"It looks like I'm into witches," he said, piercing me with his alluring blue eyes. The words that followed that dumb pickup line didn't matter. I was already falling for Felix Montel, Beta of the Moon Blade Pack. I ignored all warnings. I, Nova Laurent, a witch, took his hand and followed him, knowing he would ruin me. "Relax, love," he whispered, stroking my hair. "It's your first time with a wolf, isn't it?" I wasn't prepared for the passion he had given me. I'd become addicted to his touch, his scent, and his way of loving. My feelings for him went far beyond desire, and I had given my heart to him before I realized it. But the moment he was about to give me his in return, death took him away… After more than a year of endless torment, I decided to do the unthinkable—I summoned the Moon Goddess and begged her to bring my loved one back. "This life comes with a price. Are you prepared?" I would agree to anything just to have him back. I didn't hesitate to answer yes, even without knowing what the Goddess was going to take. Now my loved one returned, but none of us could live the life we had before. Felix's resurrection changed everything around us and changed him as well. He was no longer a beta. He was… something else. Werewolf Kingdom Stories – Book Two* *I recommend reading book one first, but it's not necessary to understand the second book's storyline. Werewolf Kingdom Stories in order: 1. How to reject the Alpha King 2. I loved this Beta too much

***Warning: this book contains explicit content and graphical descriptions. I'll put a disclaimer on any chapter that's 18+ and note that every part of this novel is entirely fictional and will be a coincidence with anyone's*** "You're petite, feeble, and gay. All shades of wrong, and I'll crush you, Rhett." His tone is vile. "Your boner says otherwise, King Kael. I'm a chick with sharp features, full pink lips, sexy, snatched body, small waist, and I'm that dude you want riding you to cloud nine all night!" I didn't stop there. I added. "I'm that proud gay man you're too ashamed to become, and I see how you want to rip through my clothes and fuck me, but guess what? I'll never allow your homophobic ass." He was once a slave without voice or freedom, raped by his master. As if that trauma wasn't enough, he was turned into a vampire by a monster. For seven years, he resisted the transition and abstained from blood until his sister was murdered by witches. All hell broke loose, he drank her blood to take back revenge but the darkness overcame him. His tyranny birthed the Fifth Throne where he ruled with bloodlust and spite... but when a tech-nerd, proud gay man stumbles into his world, an obsession arises. Rhett is everything he despises: unapologetic, troublesome, and accepting of his sexuality. However, when Rhett's life is entangled in a supernatural war between vampires, witches, and hunters, the Vampire King must protect him. But how does one love a man who claims he doesn't love men? Who would rather kill you than kiss you? And what happens when that man starts craving your touch more than blood? In a world full of monsters, such bond doesn't go without spiralling a brutal war.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.