Focus On Yourself King Novels & Stories

You will be his inseparable; you will not be inferior to him in private moments. - What that means? How can I be equal to my king? - It's time to return to your body, but don't forget what we told you- - the god sitting in the middle says. End of Flashback

"My loyalty towards this family drives me to thrive to get work done around this house." "Oh, is that so?" Keisha asked halfheartedly. "Boy, if only the owners were around to actually hear you pledge your allegiance. Mr King Senior is away on business whilst Mr King Junior is probably never coming back to the mansion, so there's that. And you need to stop calling this place a house; it's anything but." Grace placed her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me you have also been initiated into that crew of ungrateful gossiping maids," she voiced accusingly.

"My name is Beta Jax Clyde. I am the King's right hand." "It's nice to meet you, sir," she said as she finally dragged her eyes up, in awe of his beauty as well. While she had been distracted by the King as soon as she walked in, the Beta blocking her view of him forced her to take in how attractive he is. She didn't even realize that she was still holding his hand, though no longer shaking it, until the King let out a soft growl. Beta Jax cleared his throat, turning to gesture to the man, who was now sitting rigid in his chair. "This is the Lycan King, Alpha Kenzo."

He continued, "Maybe the King will stop this ridiculous competition when he finds out." "More likely he will make her compete to prove herself." I sneered knowing better than to get my hopes up. The King had his heart set on a competition to select the most viable mate. "I'm not going to have my mate fight for me, she's mine and I'm hers."

Their rhythm builds, every thrust dragging me higher, burning out the space between pain and pleasure. And somewhere inside that rhythm—I feel alive. Not just as a woman. But as a mother, about to take back her goddamn power. I glance over. King crouches in front of a half-conscious Isaac, a sharp knife in his hand. "You watching this?" he asks, calm as a goddamn priest before communion. "Look at how much your wife loves our cocks. I can see her dripping from here." He chuckles to himself, grinning like this is the best night of his life.

“To them, I’m just… someone who showed up and took your attention. They think I’m a threat.” “You’re not a threat.” “I know that,” I said gently. “But they don’t.” Silence filled the room for a moment, then he moved, walking around the desk until he stood right in front of me. He stood a little too close. “I am the King,” he said quietly. “And my word is final.” I swallowed. “I’m not asking you to stop being the King,” I whispered, hesitating for a second. Then slowly, I reached out and touched his arm.

I need your help to save Monica’s mom… We reached the parlor as I sent that last text; the King motioned for me to sit on one of the couches while he sat on another. “Is everything okay?” He asked me, watching me thoughtfully as I stared at the phone, waiting with bated breath for Oliver to reply. After a beat of silence, when I didn’t reply, he cleared his throat loudly, drawing my attention back to him. “I asked if everything was okay.” I bit my lip and nodded curtly at him. “Yes,” I answered. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.” He nodded thoughtfully. “You can’t be distracted today. You need to focus,” he told me.

“What?” Xaphar smiled. “He has this unwavering will to protect those who are weaker than him.” He sighed and glanced at Xaphar. “I don’t know if my heart or intentions are as pure as the previous King. Plus, why am I being compared to a king when I’m just a boy?” Keith admitted, as he looked down on his hands. “You have to be patient with this sort of thing.” Xaphar said. “Everything has a purpose. It may not be crystal clear now, but if you lose focus and lose yourself, you will end up confused and full of regrets later.”

“Tired. And still trying to command a war that no longer belongs to you.” The King straightened with effort. “You forget yourself.” “No,” I replied. “I remember everything.” His shock was evident on his face and he trembled

Concentrate, I tell myself. King insists on zipping the pants even when I bat his hands away. The familiar red haze fills my brain, swelling to the point of exploding, and the pain seizes me. "You must fight it," King urges through the fog of chemicals invading my body. He removes his hands and waits for me to gain control. I need fingers to accomplish this task, so I focus on fingers not claws. It takes a few minutes for the human me to take the lead again and zip myself the rest of the way and find the hole on the other side of the seam and slip the button into it. I glance up at King with incredible pride in this simple accomplishment. He smiles and nods, totally understanding how good it