روايات وقصص ضمن Revenge Handbook For Dog Tamers

“We don’t want safety.” The boy spoke next, low and venomous: “We want revenge.” Each of them looked at me, eyes glowing faintly gold in the dark. That’s when I saw it, what they were. Not just pups. Not victims. They were on fire. And fire needed fuel. “I’ll give you what you want,” I said. “But first… I make you into something they’ll never see coming.” I trained them myself. Sniping. Knife work. Urban warfare. Pack communication. Earned every skill. And when they were ready, I let the world see what wolves could become when sharpened by vengeance.

He took a fist full of my hair and inhaled deeply, “He said he likes your scent.” “I—” I began, but my words were cut off when he thrusted into me hard, and a gasp of pain escaped me. He ran his hands through my hair once again, seemingly unaware of his claws digging into my scalp. “You woke him, Kitten, you’ll have to Tame him.” Now he slammed into me—no rhythm, just hard, rough thrusts that stole every sensation from my lower limbs and despite that, I could still feel the pleasure rising in the pit of my stomach.

I was an animal, clawing, howling. Kael grabbed a thin leather whip. “Hold on,” he said, voice steady. The first lash stung my back. I gasped. Another lash, then another. Each one pulled me back from the wildness. The madness. Soon, my screams turned to moans. The pain mixed with something else—pleasure. Kael’s eyes locked on mine. “You’re calming. Are you feeling it?” I nodded, panting hard. The wildness was gone. My body felt heavy. The ropes held me up. Kael set the whip down, stepping close. His fingers brushed my cheek, soft now. “You did good, Ravenna.”

the man scoffed, puffing out his chest. "I have been a model for nine," I replied, my voice calm despite the frost nipping at my skin. "In nine years, I have seen every dirty trick in the book; I have seen traps that break spirits and kills that end careers. I doubt I’m the most difficult wolf you’ve met, but I understand the game you’re playing. If you claim this is the only way to capture the shot, I will believe your professional word. But remember this: I do not go looking for blood, but I never forget a scent. I am a vengeful creature." "Since we cannot find common ground, we will do this your way. Professionally."

His yellow eyes flashed with irritation, and he gave one slow, possessive thrust, driving his knots deeper and making me whimper. The second handler stepped closer, keeping his voice calm and steady. “Come on, big guy. She is not going anywhere. Your little snack will still be here when you get back. Warm and wet and ready for you. Promise.” He reached out carefully and patted the beast’s thick arm, stroking the coarse black fur in firm, reassuring strokes like one would calm an agitated stallion. “Good boy. You fight hard, you win, and then you can breed her all night again. She is yours after the match.”

"No one's gonna mess with Grandma ever again. You did what you could. The one who should be ashamed is that monster who stole from her. He's not even worthy of being called a dog." I didn't know if they got it, but all three heads leaned in, nuzzling my hand. As I stroked their fur, something pinched behind my nose. I couldn't stop thinking about my own dog. Was he eating okay while I was stuck in this nightmare? He was the only one I had in that world. Darkblood Count's voice echoed in my head. Even if I belonged here for now, this wasn't my place. I still had revenge to take.

“I went with a K9 officer, he was an Omega, and he said that there was a dog that was about to be put down. He was way too aggressive after losing his handler. I went in and he started going crazy and trying to get to me. I commanded him to sit down and calm down. He did.” “You are of Alpha blood,” Perseus reminded her as he set the dog bed on the floor. “That's what Simmons said. Must be able to tell you’re Alpha. Two days later, I found myself in training to be a handler.” “Was that Teuf?” Viviane asked.

The exact sound an alpha makes to a frightened yearling: calm, safe, no harm coming. My ears—still shaped by years of holding them high—twitched. The growl in my chest faltered. I tilted my head and flared my nostrils, dragging more of that scent in. He extended one hand, palm up. I leaned forward after a long, shaking moment and sniffed. Then, hesitantly, I pressed my forehead to his knuckles the way the pack had taught me. Recognition. Not surrender. Just… recognition. Vito laughed, nervous and greasy. “See? Already taming! You got yourself a genuine—”

I was born without the ability to feel pain. When I was three years old, my nanny got annoyed with my crying and secretly pinched my arm until it bruised. I barely reacted, but all ten of her fingers dislocated at once. When I was eight years old, my older cousin shoved me into a swimming pool. I choked on a little water, but she ended up on the pool deck, struggling as water somehow filled her lungs. Later, my family brought in an elderly man who said I was protected by a powerful spell. Anyone who deliberately hurt me would suffer tenfold the pain in my place. From then on, no one in my family dared lay a finger on me. At 24 years old, my family arranged a marriage alliance with the

I instinctively step back until my body hits a tree. Stopping in front of me, he lays down which instantly makes me drop myself to the ground near him, why did I do that? I extend a trembling hand to touch his fur, he stares at me with curious eyes, or so I think. I gently pet him, if that’s even the term for such a magnificent creature, and he licks my hand. Okay, what now?