Lobo Hayop Novels & Stories

CHAPTER 7 LEAVE Lobo's perspective "Oh fuck... Lobo... yes!" "Fuck you feel so damn good!" I pushed hard into Lupa's tiny, tight pussy, feeling that the more force I used on her, the more resentment and rage I could let out. It was unbelievable to me that Freya, that fucking woman, had moved out of my territory with such fucking audacity and hooked up with the Alpha of the Embermoon Pack.

Grandma had pointed at her and screamed, calling her a self-righteous lunatic. "You either love a child, or you don’t. Why are you hiding behind this lottery nonsense? If you don’t want Silas Vale, I’ll take him back to the countryside right now. Otherwise, throw away that damned lottery box and love both children together!" Mom had sneered back coldly. "How I love my children is none of your business. I love both of them, of course. But there will always be bias. That can’t be controlled. "That’s exactly why I bought the lottery box to truly be fair. If they want something, they rely on their own luck. Their father and I won’t interfere. If he can’t draw the long stick, that just means he’s

My body was still recovering from the amount of alcohol I ingested those days. But the memories I will treasure the most, will be Aiden's happy face when he received his Christmas presents at Helena's house, his eyes went so big when he saw the video game console Louis had bought for him before we went to Hawaii, and when he finally managed to swim with dolphins within a week of being on the island: oh, and when Milena first got a taste of pig at the luau we attended. The girl hadn’t left anything on her plate. Louis was definitely getting her used to being a foodie snob.

On Valentine's Day, my wife, Serena Green, makes a dinner reservation for us at a romantic restaurant. She says she has a surprise for me, but she ends up standing me up when she gets called to perform an emergency surgery. I understand that this is just the nature of being a surgeon, so I celebrate the day by having dinner at the restaurant alone. As soon as I sit down, the restaurant manager greets me warmly. "Mr. Langley! Yesterday, your wife informed us that you love our newly released lobster pasta. We've made sure to prepare it for you today." My hands clench around the menu. "Is that so? But I'm allergic to shellfish. My wife should be aware of that." The smile on the manager's fa

Yet as I gripped the stones in my hands, a strange calm settled over me. Impossible didn't mean I wouldn't try. The snap of a twig announced Lobos's arrival before his scent reached us. My hands stilled on the stones as I looked up to find him leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed, golden eyes gleaming with anticipated pleasure. He'd timed his appearance perfectly—just as we were struggling, just when doubt had begun to creep in. His smile widened as he surveyed our meager progress, the barely-dried materials, the lack of even a single spark.

They spent the day helping me learn and giving me new excitement about the pack. After a long day, I relax in bed with nothing I must accomplish other than watching TV. I have just started watching the show's second season when my phone beeps from a number I do not know. “How was your day?” It asks, followed by a slew of pictures and videos of Lobo playing in the yard. Photos of the territory, and my favorite, are of him standing in front of a house, holding a piece of paper that says, “Come home soon.” Scrolled nicely upon the front of it.