I Volunteer As Tribute Novels & Stories

I roll my eyes but don’t argue because it is true. One of us has to be sensible and I volunteer as a tribute. “Tell me everything.” I don’t wait for her to start before I add. “Everything!”

But once they reached out, I had no problem using my skills to help out, but I just never got as involved as some, like Memnon. My interest never changed from then to now, and quite frankly, I kept my hand in because I get a high from bringing down men like Ricci. Men and women who shit all over the world with their bullshit while pretending to be angels. I want them all exposed and made to pay for their misdeeds. But I've never really dealt with trafficking cases beyond the surface level. Now it looks like I might become knee-deep in that hell.

"Sir, I don't have any cash on me. But if you let us go up or guide us there, I'll transfer you 5,000 dollars. How's that sound?" The man hesitated, then glanced behind him. "Ten thousand, and I'll consider taking you." When Aria frowned and looked ready to leave, the man quickly changed his tone. "8,000 dollars. That's the lowest I can go. The village chief said no outsiders were allowed in the event, and I could get in trouble if I actually brought you in." At that, Aria turned and asked, "Event? What kind of event?" "It's a ritual—a tribute to the gods. Very lively. Every household gets meat to eat. Outsiders like you never get to see this kind of thing. Especially northerners—I can tell

He holds it out toward me. "Come work for me instead." I blink. "What?" "You heard me." "Doing what?" "Something better than scrubbing blood out of carpets for men who’d sell you for parts if they thought they could make money from it." My fingers curl nervously at my sides. "I don’t even know you." A slow smile finally touches his mouth, it’s not reassuring. "That’s probably smart, Bunny." Bunny, again. The nickname sends something strange through me. "I’m not going anywhere with you," I say quickly.

I crossed the room and crouched in front of her, both hands on her shoulders the way I always did when I needed her to understand something completely. "Then it's me," I said. "Elena—" Lucian started. "It's me," I said again, not looking away from Aurora. "Whatever this sacrifice is. Whoever it needs to be. I volunteer. Right now, before anyone else has the chance to." Aurora looked at me with those gold eyes, steady and sad in a way that no child's face should ever have to hold. "It doesn't work like that," she said. "What do you mean it doesn't work like that?" I said. "I'm offering."

We couldn’t afford another distraction or blow out at this point, not when we'd come close to going home. Vivian ended her speech with a sweet smile and bowed her head to Hunter. In return, he gave her a long kiss, and I forced myself to watch it with an unreadable expression. “As Luna Vivian has spoken of sacrifice,” he said smoothly, “I believe it is only fitting to acknowledge another kind of sacrifice made recently, one of courage and instinct.” What? What was he talking about? I asked myself that question, but deep down, I already knew the answer. “We do not forget those who save lives. And so, in honor of that act, tonight, there will be a toast. A toast fit for total strangers who wou

They were so disappointed and ashamed of me that they eventually committed suicide. Meanwhile, Francesca used me as a stepping stone. She packaged herself as an innocent and resilient streamer. "No woman would ever use their reputation to accuse a man," she said to her audience. "If I could, I'd rather not be famous because of my tragedy." Her oh-so-innocent words and her red-rimmed eyes immediately made her audience wish I were dead. After my release two weeks later, one particularly self-righteous netizen pushed me off an 18-story building.

“The Crown already waited too long for StoneRidge's tribute, and we have no clue how this particular tribute would be received. The earlier we get to Tyrheim, the better.” Evren’s eyes pull close as the conversation outside the carriage reaches him. The word Tribute rings repeatedly in his head. He wonders if they would still call him a 'tribute' once the King grew bored enough to kill him. What even was the guarantee that the Lycan King wouldn’t kill him on sight?

“T-trubute?” Dreg growls and his dark eyes changed to glowing red crimson ones. “Do you think I will spear you without a tribute?!” “Our utmost apologise!” Glint shouts from behind. Egret nodded vigorously that and trembled under the gaze of his crimson eyes. “W-what would you like to h-have as tribute?” Dreg grins. “What do you have to offer?” “W-we have gold, lots of gold a-and lands that we can offer!” Egret suggests.

Celine woke in the past, nine days before her public bonding vow with Rafe. In her first life, everyone envied Celine—the overlooked second daughter who had somehow won the Blackwood pack's Alpha heir. Only after the vow was sealed did she learn the truth: it was no marriage contract, but a permanent license to harvest her wolf soul. From that day on, whenever her sister Cassandra "fell ill," her parents, her brother, and her fiancé could invoke mate rights and drain her wolf soul. Every bout of weakness, every cough, cost Celine part of her life. After each draining, Rafe would hold her, give her a silver chain or a box of paints, and say, "You're the one I love most." For four years, she l