Loki Kneel

On the day of our wedding, Hansel Lennox's childhood sweetheart, Nara Sullivan, threatens to jump off a building. He ignores her and proceeds with the wedding. Then, he panics when she really jumps off the building. From then on, he goes to the church more and more often, turning into a pious believer. He even forces me to copy scripture and kneel while praying in the name of repenting for my sins. He makes me lose my child. The day I miscarry, I ask him for a divorce. However, he says we both owe Nara this, so we have to repent together. He uses my family to threaten me and keep me by his side. I waste my whole life for his sake. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to our wedding day. This time, I'm going to push Hansel to Nara. I want to be the one who forces him to convert.

“Kneel on the broken pieces." He commanded, eyes blazing with fire and anger as he walked to his bed and sat down, his eyes watching my every move. My only crime is being human. Being human and daring to mate with the Lycan king in my continent. Now, I’m not just pushed into a world that I never knew existed up until last night, I have now become his slave. A slave that he hated with every breath in him. Would my Lycan King ever forgive and accept that I’m human and nothing more? Or would I be dead before I get a chance for freedom?

Phoebe Cross spent her life protecting Alpha King Levi from the shadows, only to be hated, whispered about, and cast aside as a gold-digging nobody. The night their mate bond ignites, three nights of fiery passion brand Phoebe as his. But when the haze of his rut fades, Levi's love turns to rage. He calls her a liar. A schemer. A she-wolf unworthy of his throne. Rejected, banished and heartbroken, Phoebe refuses to stay broken. She rises from the ashes as a powerful alpha in her own right, strong, untouchable, and burning with the fury of a woman who will never kneel again. But when fate drags them back into each other’s orbit,desire and hate collide in a dangerous game of dominance and forbidden longing. And the bond they share is a wildfire… one that could consume them both.

Betrayed by his first love. Hunted by his own pack. Marked as nothing more than a plaything for stronger men. Zane has always been an outcast... bullied for being weak, mixed-blood, and unwanted. And just when he thought he finally found love in Ash, his world shattered with one cruel betrayal. But the Moon Goddess isn’t finished with him yet. Dragged into the elite Magic Academy, Zane thought he’d finally be free. Instead, he’s trapped between dangerous alphas, deadly rivals, and desires that could tear his soul apart. One wants to possess him. One wants to break him. And one might be his salvation… or his greatest sin. With every stolen glance, every forbidden touch, the lines between hate and obsession blur. Power isn’t the only thing awakening in Zane, so is a hunger that could ruin them all. Will Zane submit… or will he make them all kneel?

She is the only female Alpha in the world, the princess of the Royal Pack. To protect her, her father insisted on homeschooling her. She longed to go to school, but her father demanded she hide her Alpha powers. So, she pretended to be a wolfless— Until she met her destined mate. But he turned out to be the heir of the largest pack, and he rejected her?! “A worthless thing with no wolf, how dare she be my mate?” — He publicly rejected her and chose another fake. Until the homecoming... Her Royal Alpha King father appeared: “Who made my daughter cry?” The once proud heir knelt before her, his voice trembling: “I’m sorry… please come back.” She chuckled and raised her gaze: “Now you know to kneel?”

To make me "obedient", my parents send me to a reform center. There, I'm tortured until I lose control of my bladder. My mind breaks, and I'm stripped naked. I'm even forced to kneel on the ground and be treated as a chamber pot. Meanwhile, the news plays in the background, broadcasting my younger sister's lavish 18th birthday party on a luxury yacht. It's all because she's naturally cheerful and outgoing, while I'm quiet and aloof—something my parents despise. When I return from the reform center, I am exactly what they wanted. In fact, I'm even more obedient than my sister. I kneel when they speak. Before dawn, I'm up washing their underwear. But now, it's my parents who've gone mad. They keep begging me to change back. "Angelica, we were wrong. Please, go back to how you used to be!"

I am the sole heir to the Alpha King of Northaria, but I'm an Omega. All of Northaria awaits the day I come of age, hoping I'll awaken the kind of Alpha bloodline strong enough to claim the throne. But when the day finally comes, I'm still just a low-rank Omega. So, they say that the true heir must be one of the three "pledged Alphas" my father adopted from the major tribes. Whichever one of them marks me becomes the ruler of all Northaria packs. But none of them have ever truly looked at me. The one I like most is Quin Lawson. When I fainted on the snowy plains as a child, it was he who carried me back to the pack. I've tried countless times to get close to him, only to be met with nothing but cold, contemptuous stares. I used to think he was just emotionally distant—until the Moon Goddess Festival. That night, I saw him kneel before Silvia Anderson, the daughter of my father's second-in-command. His voice is soft, and his gaze is tender. "I'm marrying Evelyn only to repay the Alpha King's kindness. Once I get the inheritance, I'll make you my Luna. As long as she doesn't harm you, I'll even grant her a piece of land to live out her life in peace. You're my true mate." The night before the marking ceremony, my father asks me who I choose. I think of the way all three of the pledged Alphas look away whenever our eyes meet. I smile and say, "I'm the rightful heir of Northaria. My mate should be someone who brings the greatest strength to our pack. And so, I choose Alpha Heath of the Pyraxis pack." The air goes still. My father frowns. "Him? Are you sure? Every one of his mates has died under mysterious circumstances. His wolf is known to be vicious—no one dares get close to him. You truly want to be his mate?"

When the wolves were created they were created without a soul, animals, killer machines, ones that go on killing spree with nothing to hold them back. The gods regretted their decision to create the wolves, they were rogue, they had no loyalties, nothing to stop them from burning the whole world, they needed a soul. The gods couldn't give the wolves a soul, they refused to kneel down, and their souls were as dark as their dark lusts. The gods forced the wolves to their knees, giving them souls in the shape of humans, kill the soul and die, hurt the soul and feel agony, the souls are to be saved, and protected, no more killing, no more attacks, they are forced to take care of their own soul.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.