Enslaved Cupid Weakness Novelas e Histórias

Matching slippers follow. He disappears into the bathroom and i hear the water begin to run. I cross to the bedroom window while waiting, wrapping the robe tighter around myself. The sculpted stone fountains are bathed in soft white silence. I look at the marble cupids theirblack stone vases tipped pouring water into the fountain. This place is artistically beautiful. Beauty disguises pressure. Prestige disguises competition. And here, among heirs and legacies, failure will not simply be disappointing. It would be remembered.

I asked with doubt surrounding my neck. "The mate bond. That biological weakness that blinds the strongest men. Look at what it has done to you in less than forty-eight hours: you have lost your judgment and almost killed an eighteen-year-old student in front of the entire faculty." He stopped centimeters from me. His scent of sandalwood and hybrid power was so strong that it forced me to lower my head in a sign of submission. "Caleb. The mate bond makes us weak, stupid, and predictable. It turns you into a walking target for our enemies."

I just reached down beneath the surface of the water, finding his free hand where it rested on my thigh, and laced my fingers through his. Varul's grip tightened on mine instantly, almost painfully so, as if he were grounding himself against a current. "He believed that weakness was a disease," Varul continued, his voice dropping an octave, becoming so quiet I had to strain to hear it over the rising steam. "And he believed the only way to cure a pup of weakness was to beat it out of them...or sometimes claw it out of them." Dread pooled in my stomach. I was so scared to ask what that meant, but I didn't have to bother because Varul confirmed my fear with his next words.

"The scent of the man from the estate... it is suffocating." "We can't fight our way out, Caleb," Scarlett said, her mind racing through her limited repertoire of forbidden arts. Julian had brought a full tactical squad of Thorne Enforcers, all armed with silver-laced weaponry. "If you reveal your full power now, the curse will shatter your mind before you can kill even half of them." "Then what would you have me do, little witch?" Caleb turned to her, his gaze intense and desperate. "I will not return to the dark. I would rather die under the moon than be a slave again."

“No one speaks up to me like that. No one dares to go against my rules. The people scurry at a single stare I give them. But you….. you aren’t fazed at all. You stand up to me in a way no one else could. The power you don’t even realise you’re radiating has me weak to my knees. Sweet Moon Goddess, as much as your disobeying me drives me insane, it turns me on in a way I couldn’t have ever imagined.” I cup her ass and pull her into me, make her feel just how much she turns me on, causing her to gasp and squirm in my arms. It may be against any rational thought, but this woman is my weakness. The way she puts me into my place, makes me want to worship the ground she walks upon.

I said, opting the clueless route. Elder Wraith placed his hand on his chest, his head bent slightly. “His heart,” he said. “Once you win his heart, you have unlocked his weakness.” “How could I win his heart if he doesn't even trust me?” He regarded me briefly. “You are a woman. You know that better. And I believe you have the capacity to win Damon's heart.” I groaned internally. This man was a tough one to crack. “His heart already belongs to Bertha, his most loved concubine,” I said and pouted sadly.

She simply glanced up as I approached. “You think he’ll break?” she asked, no emotion in her voice. “Alex?” I considered it. “Not at first. But guilt corrodes.” “And Sophia?” I paused, then sat across from her. “Sophia’s strength is her conviction. Her weakness is the same.” Cassandra nodded. “She’ll go down swinging.” “Yes,” I agreed. “But she’ll still go down.” She shifted a piece on the chessboard between us, casually resuming the earlier match. Her move was aggressive—forward, direct. A test.

His hungry gaze followed my lead obediently. “Oh, yes! My blood is purer, laced with great strength. Isn’t it?” I moved ever so slowly, pouring a drop of my blood on the floor, playing with Demrid’s thirst. His only weakness was our leverage against him. No matter how powerful he was, controlling the souls or magical rituals, he was a simple vampire in the end. Their uncontrollable thirst for blood was their ultimate weakness other races always used against them. Werewolves were taught to hunt vampires using thirst traps.

Lucas bent, scooping up the pistol, then slid it across the table out of reach. I rolled my chair forward, slow, deliberate, letting the faint squeal of rubber on tile grind into De Cruz’s ears. His eyes darted to me, wide, feral, like a rat with its back broken. “You were always weak,” I said quietly, my tone not needing to rise. Weak men always hear. “But weakness is not a crime, De Cruz. Betrayal is.” He tried to shake his head, tried to speak, but his mouth only managed broken sounds…pleas choked by spit and terror.

“Your father made sure Ava became untouchable. How do you want to fire shots at her now?” “That’s why I’m calling you.” I pressed my fingers to my temple, willing away the headache that threatened to split my skull. “You’ve seen her, known her longer than anyone. You must have something.” There was a rustling sound, and then the man spoke again, his voice lower. “She has a weakness. Everyone does, but hers is… quite tricky. If you’re willing to pay the price, I can give you a starting point.” “Name it.” I didn’t care what it cost me. Pride, money, favors—nothing mattered if it meant I could finally gain the upper hand.