Lacation Stories Novels & Stories

Her eyes go back to being sad. " Can I tell you a story?" She says and I nod "Centuries ago, the moon goddess created a white lycan and a black lycan together and put their lycan forms with a girl with brown hair and blue eyes, and a man with black hair and hazel eyes. She blessed them as mates. The Lycan girl and the Lycan boy protected their kingdom from many dangers that came and went until, one day, fate intervened, and they were both killed unfairly and unjustly."

Lylah held his gaze for a little longer. Her throat thick. Then she slowly let go, letting the cloak slide down her shoulder and drop silently to the floor. He stilled, eyes roaming over the dark ink that kept her scars hidden. Even at that, one could still see them—the way they wickedly ran across her arms. Lylah didn't stop. She reached for the rope that held her tunic. Let it loose. Her trouser came next. Each scar tells its story. The survival of the barricades that bound her, and the blood, screams, and deaths in the arena.

"Geez, Sharon. Those hits were brutal. I wish you could see it. Lindsay didn't even manage to put her clothes on." Kay turned the camera to the lobby. The man had his foot on Lindsay's back, while he was pulling Milton's hair. Both of them were completely naked, bruised and beaten. "You wrench. How dare you cheat on me! You'll regret this! You took 50 thousand in bridal gifts and still hooked up with another guy. I'm going to ruin your face. Let's see how you keep making trouble!"

Of the way she screamed. The witches listened without interruption, but the air in the room thickened with each word. When Lyra finished, Valea touched the center of the runic circle and closed her eyes. “There is an old legend,” she said slowly, “older than the kingdom, older even than the Lycans. A story whispered by the stars.” Kane stepped closer. “We’ve heard the stories. Of a Queen who rose in fire and fell with blood.”

“Except it happened again and again with several women.” A cold, unsettling feeling went down my spine. “There was another lady,” he continued, his voice low. “She was an architect for the Thorne Foundation some time ago. She accused him of suffocating her and pulling her into battles she didn’t sign up for.” “Well… that’s her side of the story,” I said weakly, shrugging my shoulders. “Yes,” Lucan said gently. “And Cade’s side is that he was only trying to help.” I hated how sensible he sounded.

Layla swallowed her saliva as her legs buckled at the scene, and she felt her pussy dripping wet into her panties. Carina stood straight with 'her' hand on the latter's waist, grabbing Maria by the neck before angling her lower, and 'her' hand left the latter's waist to her jingling boobs. Carina fondled the maid's tits before starting to fuck the maid even harder. Layla was dripping hard as she rubbed her hand on her panties while fondling her left breast with the other hand, unable to take it anymore. She dipped two fingers inside her dripping pussy, they slid in without difficulty.

The two got on like a house on fire but to those that were not familiar with the two would be on tender hooks. “He beat up the kid from his marriage with his childhood sweetheart to be with you?” “Ha…. ha…. ha…” Lara laughed uncontrollably “Shouldn’t I be proud if I could invoke such loyalty?? Why do I feel like a powerful concubine from the ancient times?” Dana pursed her lips suppressing a smile, but the others laughed loudly. “Why is my man being targeted when we have the king of scandals here?” Lara pouted after she finished her narcist gloating.

The center was a single dais, ringed by twelve chairs. On the third day, Lena carved her name into one of the stones by hand. Not digitally. Not with a scanner. Just a blade, and a slow, deliberate movement. The others followed. And then the stories began. Each delegation stepped forward. Not with speeches. With memory. A child told the story of the last bread baked in a war-torn bakery. A woman recited the names of a drowned village in song. A man placed his father’s shattered glasses into the archive.

Adding my Alpha King bloodline to the equation, Lucas led Silver Claws to unprecedented heights. One day, I asked him out of curiosity, "What would you have done if you hadn't married me in this lifetime?" A flicker of vulnerability and sorrow appeared in his eyes. "My Luna," he said softly, "let me tell you a story. Ten years ago, I happened to return to the pack to attend a coming-of-age ceremony for a wolf princess. At the celebration, a group of young ladies had an argument, and one of them accidentally spilled red wine on a little girl's dress. The child's pristine white gown was ruined, and she burst into tears.

My dress was shoved up around my waist, my panties were gone, his hand covered my mouth so I wouldn’t make noise while his other hand pinned my wrists above my head as he moved slow and dirty, dragging almost all the way out then pushing back in until my eyes watered. “Quiet,” he whispered against my ear, “Sophie is right down the hall.” I should have pushed him off, I should have left, instead I spread my legs wider and let him ruin me. That was how it started. Three weeks ago. ………. I came in late after a party that night, my head fuzzy from too much alcohol. The key was under the frog by the side door, like always, and all I wanted was the couch and a glass of water. Mr. Cole stood in the