Possession Plot Novels & Stories

"You will die here. And your fucking wild rutt of a mate is dying right now in the depths of jungles of this city. I am not fucking stupid to leave a fucking mated wolf to track me down for killing his mate." He picked up an iron rod, at the of which was a heavy metal containing screws and iron plates attached, something like it was pulled out of a vehicle, a heavy truck, belonging in a garage. Some rust was covering it from the tip to the end. I had never seen it at our home, ever. He had brought it with himself. He had planned everything. Mason swung it left and right in the air in front of my eyes, making me aware that he wanted to see the fear of upcoming death in my eyes.

“You plan on reuniting with your Prince charming?” “At least he won't keep me locked up.” My hand slipped to the back of her neck. “Listen to me Hillary, you are mine, contract or no contract, you'll always be mine. You get that?” “I am not your possession, you can't own me and you don't own me.” “You are, I own you. Nothing can change that.” She pushed me with all her strength. “Fuck you!” I walked towards her, closing the gab between us. She placed her hand on my chest to prevent me from coming any closer.

He paused at the door, “When you make up your mind what you want and let me know.” As I watched the door shut I sighed, was I in the wrong here? Trust was earned and he hasn’t exactly been the best about being honest. My last relationship had been controlling and I ran from it. Lucas wasn’t abusive, he didn’t cheat that I knew of but he had the controlling thing down. Looking up I felt a tear slid down my cheek. Lucas wanted to protect me, but he made me feel more like a possession of his sometimes.

In his own twisted, possessive way, he was trying. “The only thing I want,” I said slowly, clearly, “is for you to let me go.” He flinched as if I’d struck him again. Then his face hardened, the old possessiveness flashing in his eyes. “That’s never going to happen,” he growled. “You belong to me!” I laughed then, a mocking, hollow sound that hurt my chest. Of course. Even dying, I was still his possession. His property. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing what was his, even to death. I've known Eric to be a monster, but Lucas was much worse.

I moaned loudly as his fingers skillfully pleasured me, making me wetter with each movement. "Fuck," he moaned and turned me over. He slammed his lips onto mine, kissing me possessively and hungrily. I held onto his head and ground my body against his. He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer, then he broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. As I held his gaze, I noticed he held so many emotions in his eyes, but the one that stood out was possession. "I own you," he said, and I gulped, not out of fear, but because of how my body reacted to his words. "You are mine," he added, and I gulped again. "I…" he wanted to say something, but then he stopped and sighed.

"Mars, don't let your mind wander into the dark. In this pack, results are the only thing that matters. We aren't crowning a Luna here; we're closing a deal. Grant respects competence. He sees your potential and he’s giving you a path. That’s all." "I suppose you're right. I knew him when we had nothing but textbooks. I should just be grateful to the Alpha." "I'm going. Get some sleep, Reed." "Jessa, answer me this: if a male is overly possessive, is that a sign of deep bonding or just a territorial instinct?" "Is the moon round? Of course! Possessiveness and passion are two sides of the same coin. He must be absolutely feral for the person he's guarding!" "Jessa, wait..."

Due to the turbulent nature of the power that the possessed was now unleashing they could only watch helplessly as it assimilated its new power. Abe nodded in reply. He was no fool. He could sense that what was being born was more than he could handle. “What is that thing” Abe asked. Mane seemed aware of what was happening. Mane furrowed his brows as the fluctuations the possessed was releasing gradually calmed down. “A dark technique: Possession. It forces one’s soul to fight on even after death. The soul is destroyed when the technique is broken”

“So tell me, Olivia… can you pay up now? Or would you rather see your brother back in prison?” My head snapped up. “You wouldn’t,” I said hoarsely. His eyes hardened. “Try me.” Then he added coldly, “For the duration of our agreement, you belong to me, Olivia. You are mine. My possession. And you’d do well to remember that before you go around kissing and defending other men.” The words hit harder than a slap. Possession. Mine. Something inside me broke right there. I couldn’t hold it together anymore. My chest felt empty, like the air had been sucked out, and I didn’t even have the energy to fight it.

"I live in your house; I don't know if that counts. Besides, how can that hurt you? I'm a free girl." "In that you are mine alone! From this moment on, I forbid you to be seen with this man or anyone else. Do you understand?" he asked in a domineering tone, and she opened her eyes wide in the face of this attack of possessiveness. To have been not to possess. You can have what you don't want. Possession is having and enjoying what you have. José Saramago.

This wasn’t just revenge anymore. This was obsession. And it was mutual. When protection turns into possession, will Celeste still recognize the line when it disappears?