I Was Born To Be Dominated Chapter 1

"Just help me out this once, man. I just made it to the final round, and I can't leave the game. Help your little brother out for a change? You're the best, J." It was 2:00 a.m. Chad asked me to go downstairs and pick up his takeout. I wanted to refuse because I was still recovering from a broken foot, but he did not look capable of tearing his eyes from the screen for even a second. Thus, I agreed and stepped outside. Without warning, something like a stream of comments flashed across my mind. [No! Somebody stop him!] [That delivery guy is your brother's roommate! He's got a knife!!!] [Lil' Bro knows that already, J! He's using you as a human shield to buy himself time!] I froze. I turned to go back inside. The door would not budge. Chad had already locked it. The elevator chimed down the hall. The comments in my head spiraled into chaos. [The killer is here! Get out of there, Big Bro!]

Not a Slave It is a time where a woman is used for attaining something precious which would fulfill the dream of becoming a king of the kingdom they wish for without a war. It is a time where a Son is born to embrace the duty as a King after his Father in the royal family irrespective of the ability he has. It is a time where a small land of people is looked down when they are not part of the council, which has all the elders with wisdom as members and the Kings of all kingdoms have to follow the rules laid by them regarding their ruling. And then it is also a time where a girl child is born to change all the past practicing traditions paving the way for a new one, but had to go through the danger of becoming a slave with no one to protect her. But she will never let anyone make her a Slave as she is not a Slave. I am a Queen I am a Queen who had done nothing but what everyone asked me to do. I fulfilled everyone’s wishes without giving those any second thought. I am a Queen who got blamed for the things about which I don’t even have a minimal idea. I am blamed because there is nothing else they can do other than that. I am a Queen who wishes at present to go back being a princess as my life is going to be taken away by the person who is none other than my Father in a few seconds just because I am a Queen. I closed my eyes hoping that this ends once and for all…

Silas Jordan drew lots, which resulted in me being chosen as his wife. He hated me for getting his childhood sweetheart killed. Hence, he tortured me to death. But after I died, deep remorse overwhelmed him. After I returned to the past, I first rigged the lottery to help him get together with his childhood lover. However, there were endless new comments on the screen. They were from readers of the novel I was trapped in. [Based on the plot, the male lead will pick the female lead. Then, the male lead’s childhood lover will kill herself. When the female lead gets tortured to death, the male lead starts regretting it. But why would this miserable novel change when the female lead rigged the lottery?] It was because I no longer wished to marry him again.

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

Amaka Richard fell pregnant out of wedlock and was sent away from her parents' home. Five years later, she met her baby daddy, but he denied knowing her. "Joseph, my child is yours, the same face, nose, and mouth," she confronted him, but he refused to acknowledge her or his child. Amaka moved on, now, Joseph is back at her doorstep, begging for forgiveness. Should she forgive him and accept him back? Find out.

I woke up to the morning sun shining dimly into my room, directly into my face. The feeling of a rough hand resting lightly on my stomach, I turn over and my eyes widen with shock. How the hell did my Chief end up in my bed? What did I do last night? I tried my hardest to remember what all went down at the mandatory command picnic… I remember going out to a bar outside of base. I remember dancing, after running into a friend from my previous command, that left a year after I got there, because she got transferred to a new command. I remember her buying me shots, to celebrate our reunion and working together again. But then everything went blank….

"You kill so wonderfully well, little Raven," he murmured, his voice incredibly smooth, "but you did a terrible job hiding yourself. That beautiful scent of yours... wood, jasmine, and blood. It's unmistakable." Thirteen years ago, ten-year-old Romy Hawthorne hid in the vineyard and watched the Supreme Alpha, Rowan Ashwing-Kael Vexley, pull a bloodied blade from her sister’s chest as her home burned. Now, Romy is "Viper"—a lethal, wolf-less assassin. When a twenty-million-dollar bounty drops on the man known as the Beast of Flames, she eagerly takes the job. Her mission: infiltrate his territory, plunge a silver knife into his heart, and avenge her family. But her target is a dangerously powerful Fire Lord who has spent the last decade hunting the real syndicate that murdered his fiancée. When Romy breaks into his stronghold, he doesn't find a victim, he finds the surviving little sister of the woman he lost. And to their absolute horror, she is his fated mate. Bound by an agonizing supernatural tether where every ounce of physical pain she inflicts on him is violently mirrored in her own body, Romy is completely trapped. With enemies closing in, she must make a choice: Will she fulfill her lifelong vow and kill the monster who ruined her life? Or will she surrender to the intoxicating fire of the Alpha who would burn the world down to keep her safe? #Enemies to Lovers #Fated Mates #Assassin/Alpha #Touch Her and Die #Revenge #Forced Proximity, #Misunderstanding #Hidden Identity #Steamy.

The biggest mistake I had ever made was falling in love with my Alpha stepbrother, Cayden Gates. I was 12 when my mom remarried, and he was the only one in the new pack who treated me kindly. I fell for him at first sight. When I was 16, I was attacked by rogue wolves, and he fought off ten of them alone to protect me. At 18, he was poisoned by silver. He nearly died. That was when my wolf told me he was my fated mate. Without hesitation, I donated my bone marrow to save him. That night, watching him asleep with a pale face, I couldn't help but kiss the corner of his lips. He opened his eyes at that exact moment, his face flushing red. "Tessa, we're siblings. You shouldn't cross that line." From then on, he started avoiding me, like I was a mistake he couldn't afford to make. His fiancée, Rosie Lloyd, had been diagnosed with a rare blood disease, and I was the only compatible donor. For the first time, he pleaded with me. "If you're willing to save her, I'll agree to anything." But I was already weak from the marrow transplant. Giving blood again might kill me. I said no, and Rosie died in the end. He didn't shed a single tear, like nothing had happened. But at her funeral, he smashed the portrait I'd painted of him in front of everyone and said coldly, "How filthy of you to dream of being with your own brother." Later, I became a disgrace, a walking joke. Humiliation and despair swallowed me whole, and in a haze, I fell into the lake and drowned. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment he begs me for blood. I say yes calmly. I consider it the final debt I owe the Gates family. Cayden, from now on, we're done. There are no more ties between us.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.