Does Throne Of Glass Have Smut の小説・ストーリー

“Tomorrow the court of wolves will bare its teeth.” Lucien pressed a kiss to the top of his head, golden eyes gleaming in the firelight. “Let them. We have sharper fangs.” Outside, in the marble halls, whispers spread like poison through the noble circles. Prince Rowan smiled into his wine, already weaving new threads into the coming storm. The war for the throne had moved from the southern wilds into the heart of the palace. And the forbidden mate stood at its center—quiet, intelligent, and far more dangerous than any of them yet realized.

His laughter dies as soon as his eyes land on him, and his face darkens dangerously. “If you break her, priest, then you break me, and you also break him.” He says as he tips his chin toward Rhett as the chain drags another few inches, "And, if I remember rightly, your last encounter with a feral werewolf didn't go too well, did it?" Perfect. I’ve landed myself in the Twilight reboot from hell. No sparkles. Just runes, blood, and way too much testosterone. Rhett drags air through his teeth, never looking at them, only at me. The bond inside of me pulls back, as if it’s baiting him closer.

Then comes the deep intensifying burn that will not subside. “I find this wine with crow insignia to be quite lovely.” Alpha Osiris says with an air of sophistication. “Woody with a touch of smoke and juniper berry.” He muses. “I’ve seen plenty of slaves enjoy wine, Luna Osiris; some even a tad too much.” The Prince haughtily responds. I can tell Alpha Osiris is mind linking her. She forces a smile. “Yes, of course your highness.” She responds quietly. I enjoy her being put in her place. It’s hard not to smile watching her endure the disrespect.

Ooh, I have got tactics too, baby. "Fuck...Rhett..." He shakes. The King of Fifth Throne vibrates when I utilise my tongue. His precum is surprisingly sweetly sour, and I am eager to taste his actual cum. For a vampire, I did not think they would have such nice seeds. But wait, I will be one of those humans who is privileged to drink a vampire's cum, and in fact, one of the very insanely few queer guys. Yo, I am putting in more work. I salivate, brush my hands up and down his length while I swallow the few inches I can. He is probably around nine or ten. All those years of living, I am pretty sure that cock did not stop growing.

The lady laughed at his foolish conclusions, and swayed the black fringes of hair that the wind blew to her face. "As if you'd cost that much. It's still me, tch. You've seen Anne alter her hair colour, it's no different." Her voice remain the same, and finally Tristan breathed a sigh of relief. "No different she says. You magic users are scary." Serina toon another steps towards the well-lighted gate where lies beyond a huge mansion that was long since converted into a lavish gambling establishment. She spoke once again, "It's a Clandestine Tavern, if you happen to bump into a familiar place, do not present yourself. Just ignore them and so will they."

Maurice snarled. "You're going to marry Mo anyway, Giselle. Why cause such a scene?" Camilla slowly approached me and whispered, "Mo won't touch you even after marrying you because he doesn't like you. Just be good and go along with him." I raised an eyebrow and eyed her mockingly. "Oh? I take it this means he's already touched you?" She turned ashen and glared at me. A woman's reputation and virtue were especially important to noble ladies. Judging from her reaction, it seemed she and Maurice had long since crossed the line.

Then he glanced around the hall, quickly meeting my eyes, and then strutted down the aisle to a seat in the very front. Brandon preened in the front, obviously extremely proud that the King took time to come to his mating ceremony, but as his eyes landed on his father, there was a flash of triumph. Vince looked back at an omega and nodded once. The omega came over to me and grabbed a flute of champagne, and I watched as she dumped something silver into the glass. I whispered a soft spell. “Iti shoner tugu sinti floura notka.” I watched as the silver particles flashed bright white, eliminating the effects of the toxin. Thankfully, from a distance, it just looked like a rush of bubbles. The om

But it was the note that drove the air from my lungs—handwritten in elegant script that somehow made its contents more obscene: *The abominations you carry will never wear these crowns. Their mixed blood will never contaminate the throne. Consider these toys a kindness—a preview rather than the reality that awaits if you continue this perversion of nature. There are many of us, watching, waiting. The Pure Blood Coalition cleanses what is impure. Your daughters will never draw breath in this kingdom.*