Mata Menyipit Novels & Stories

"Serena, don't talk about yourself like that." Matthew's face had sunk, his eyes full of stormy intent. His grip on the book slowly tightened, and the book crumpled.

My Internet’s limited. One minute later… Five minutes later… Ten minutes later… Alden frowned. [When did your skills become so rusty?] K replied, [Matafaka, this website is encrypted with 109 passwords. It’s not difficult, but I need some time. Just wait.] Alden replied, [What does “matafaka” mean?] K answered, [It means motherf*cker!] Alden replied, [You insulted my mother for no reason. This is the end of our friendship.]

she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “Selene needs to see the type of person she is with. Better she learns now than later.” Mata rounded on her with fire in her eyes. “I never asked you to talk!” she barked, her tone sharp enough to silence the room. I pressed my lips together to stifle my chuckle. My smirk deepened. How satisfying, I thought, watching Sarah shrink under Mata’s words. For once, I don’t even have to lift a finger. Mata’s gaze shifted then, her eyes locking on me. “So, Selene,” she said, her voice lowering, more deliberate now, “according to what you exactly want to know…” She paused, scanning the table, as if to make sure everyone was listening.

Something strange and addictive rushed through me. “You need to stay here, Eila.” I stared at his half-open lips. Thoughts I didn’t want flooded my head as I lost my breath. I whispered in pain, “I know you feel it too, Marcus… You’re my mate.” I shook my head, not believing what I heard from my own mouth. He glared at me, deadly serious. “Stop spitting nonsense.” “You don’t believe me?” I shoved him hard enough to slip away, but before I reached the door, Marcus caught me, pinning me against the wall.

mate! I started perceiving a particular scent, the scent of newly bloomed lilies That scent was driving me crazy, I decided to follow the scent When I got to where the owner of the scent was, what I saw broke my heart My mate was being bullied and hit by a bunch of over pampered bitchy wolves Anger boiled inside of me and I roared "stop!!!" But the bitch and her group refused to listen And that was when my wolf went loose for the first time and I shifted

I tried to ignore the note of hurt in her voice and the sullen look on her face. "No they haven't, I imprinted." The words hurt her just as I knew they would. It's one thing for the elders to choose a lesser consort for me and another for my nature to actually imprint on someone. The side concubines can be left at will, my true mate will never leave my side. It's the truest form of mating amongst our kind.

Griff snarled. “They’re probably the size of raisins.” I opened the Hatch’s door and navigated Fitzroy’s customized menu. “Maybe the healer can let me use their magnifying glass to get at them.” “All right,” Rumpel Kracknuts spat. “I’ll take it out.” I turned around. “All of it.” The faerie squeezed his eyes shut, twisted his face, and squatted like a spaniel struggling with a hard shit. He moved a trembling hand in a figure-eight motion, the way a conductor would wave a baton, and exhaled.

Being the most expensive club, everything is in order, unlike the crowded one in which I found my mate with her best friend. I wonder what she is up to now, on a Friday night. Is she getting herself drunk again? I wouldn't hesitate to do another save. I have missed her so much this last week, it has been affecting my body, my wolf, and my senses. I was warned about the effects of delaying mating and marking your mate after you have met. The effect has been taking its toll on me. Sometimes it is too much I just shift and take a run in the woods. That only gives momentary relief. It can't save me for long.

𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶�

“Good. We’ll start easy.” There’s one person who doesn’t look thrilled. Her name is Mara. I think she must’ve joined after I left for the Nate Games. She’s the only other female here—tall, lean, with dark braids that swing behind her when she walks. Pretty, but cold. At first I thought I was imagining it, but it’s clear now. The way she barely answers when I speak. How she passes things to everyone else with a smile, but sets them down in front of me without meeting my eyes.