Losing Control: His Madness, His Cure Novels & Stories

Familiar. Then it stopped. I froze. The urge didn't disappear entirely. I still wanted to kill him, still wanted to know what his blood would look like spread across the floor beneath him. But I could think. I could breathe. I could step away. That had never happened before. Once the killing instinct took hold, control rarely returned. Not until there was nothing left to kill. I stared at the unconscious man, then at my own hands. My claws slowly retracted. Was it the medicine? The Shaman had spent years trying to control what lived inside me. Different medicines. Different rituals. Different prayers. Nothing had ever truly worked.

“No.” Immediate. Sharp. Because he understood faster. because he always did. “You don’t let go,” he said. “You choose what stays.” That was the difference. not collapse. not release. Control. real control. the kind the system had tried to fake. the kind the corruption had tried to steal. Choice. I closed my eyes. not to shut it out. to focus. to separate. zayden. first. always first. the bond shifted. centered. clear. everything else faded.

“No! Don’t dare to say yes to it!” “Drake, I don’t have a choice.” “Then I will help you! I don’t care who will I stomped into. I don’t care who will get angry. I don’t care at all. Just don’t… please.” He sounds like pleading. “What’s the sudden turn of event is this?” “Fely, please listen to me.” “Drake, please don’t be like my parents. Controlling me to do something. I’m not a robot. I’m not under your control. I am a human.”

“You’re better when you stop pretending.” “I’m not pretending,” I muttered. He raised an eyebrow at me, then he let out a quiet laugh. We moved back out into the main studio. The feeling in the room had changed because it was less professional now and more… something else that I didn’t know how to name. I picked up my glass without thinking and took a small sip. “You learn fast,” he said. “Or you’re just very bossy,” I responded. “I am... I love to be in control,” he said easily.

For the first time in a long time he acknowledged something he rarely allowed himself to recognize. Interference. Not emotional. Not personal. But enough. Enough to disrupt sequence. Enough to create delay. Enough to remain after it should have been dismissed. He crushed the cigarette into the tray. More firmly than necessary. Then stood. Adjusted his coat. Straightened his posture. Reconstructed control piece by piece. Everything aligned again. Externally. Visibly. Perfectly. But as his gaze flickered once more toward the tablet just briefly one truth remained. Control was still his. But it was no longer untouched.

He closed his eyes, trying to control his impatience and inhale that distinctive smell, its long qualities that he did not smell like, and his arms surrounded her then whispered to her: \"Do you know, all you have to do is leave me in control with all your satisfaction then you will feel fun, but as long as you cling to your control and control you will never get it.. \" His words only express complete madness, especially after seeing many of this room that resembles the punishment of the afterlife, all that contains makes her believe that she is in one of the torture rooms and this is what she will be determined to do

he said, “it won’t return the way it was.” I didn’t respond and he continued. “It will push harder. Stronger. And you won’t be able to suppress it the same way again.” “How many times?” I asked. His gaze didn’t leave mine. “You don’t have many attempts before it stops being something you can control.” My pulse dropped a beat. “And starts controlling you.” The image of the rogue flashed through my mind, wild and unstable. I pushed it down immediately. “I won’t lose control.” His expression didn’t change, but there was something quieter beneath it now.

I clenched my fists tightly, trying to escape the control of this magic. "You won't be able to fight, Gin!" said De Comte while licking the skin of Casey's neck with a pair of disgusting-looking wolf fangs. I'm losing control more and more. My anger is really overflowing right now. I mustered all my strength and thoughts to be able to escape from De Comte's mind control trap. Slowly but surely, I could feel my hands moving. I struggled to reach the trigger of the gun I was still holding. Bang! I shot myself in the foot.

He’d be able to undo what his cousin had done to her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t explain to anyone that she wasn’t crazy, that she didn’t belong here, shackled like a convict. Even when her friends came to see her, even when her mother held her hand and cried, Maria couldn’t get the words out. Whatever Lore had put inside of her brain was impenetrable. And it was getting stronger. With every passing moment, she felt her strength seeping away. Her ability to fight Lore’s mind control was diminishing and the sane part of her was becoming weaker and weaker. Maria was certain that if she didn’t get help it would eventually disappear altogether, leaving her an empty shell. The

“Your twins are having a rough time fighting the control. They are, however, doing better than the Alpha. But their possessiveness is at an all time high.” “What control? Lenny, what’s going on?” “I thought you would have figured it out by now. All three of them are being controlled. My guess is they ingested something along with a spell. I bet the boys only got a half dose each, which is why they seem to be mostly conscious, but still addled.” “What? Who would do that?”