Skink No Surrender Book Novels & Stories

I squirmed on his lap, feeling a wild excitement at being totally exposed. With trembling hands, I gripped Conrad’s arms, my breath coming in short gasps as Jake watched me darkly. I felt like prey caught in a predator’s trap, unable to escape his penetrating dark eyes. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Conrad’s fingers trailed along the slick folds of my pussy, circling on my clit that left me trembling with need. The sensation was almost too much to bear, sending waves of pleasure rippling through my body as I struggled to maintain my composure.

Karen inhaled sharply, registering all she had heard in her mind. Before her stepsister, Elinda, confessed, she was busy roaming around, trying to get Alpha Rasmore to come around in terms of what she had suggested. She had begged him to let Elinda go and that she would do anything he wants. She had always seen Elinda as an innocent person, and that was what she was trying to make sure she would set free. Even though sometimes she turned into a green snake hiding in a green grassland, who always stacked her to spread her poisonous venom in her system, she was still willing to help her; after all, blood is thicker than water.

I slammed into the stone wall, the air leaving my lungs in a ragged, wheezing gasp. I fought with a desperate, frantic rage, fueled by the agonizing sight of Sara watching us from the shadows of her cell. I managed to rake my claws across his shoulder, drawing thick, dark blood, but Rune was a force of nature—a storm made of muscle and fur. He was the Conqueror for a reason. He parried my strikes with a cold, brutal efficiency, eventually pinning me against the bars of an empty cell. His hand was crushed against my throat, cutting off my air.

However, to his surprise, Hannah jolted up from the bed as if she had been shocked. Jack was in the dark about the full terms of the agreement, unaware that one of the grievances was Hannah's abortion, done to clear the way for Jack's future child. "Why? Is it wrong to want a child for Jack? Jack's dying, with just six months left. In the end, won't I still be with you? If it bothered you, why didn't you say something sooner?"

My mind would keep thinking about the fact that what I was looking for was in the batch I skipped. I straightened myself and strained my fingers. “Bring them here.” He slid it closer to me, and I searched through it carefully. I picked up the first book and scanned it—still nothing… until I picked the second to the last one, and that was it. The title was Conquering The Duskwatch Pack. “What?!” I screamed, my eyes widening as I stared at the title intensely, hoping that it was just the desperation in my mind playing tricks on me. But when I looked at it again, it was really it.

Axel signaled him to come nearer and sit in front of him. “What’s your name and rank?” “I-I’m Sky... and I’m a Psi,” he meekly muttered, pushing his glasses up. Axel understandingly nodded. A Psi, just like Liam. “Good evening to you too, Sky. What do you need?” “W-Well, uh, I just finished reading a book and I-I thought I’d share it with you... Alpha.” Sky gave him the book with shaking hands. He looked down on the cover and read the title: The Anthem of Lycanthropy.

Hi!!! Just wanted to pop in and say thank you for taking the time to read my work. This is the final book in my Unspoken Trilogy. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Book 1 - Unspoken Promises Book 2 - Unspoken Truths Book 3 - Unspoken Desires If you’re starting this novel without reading the previous books - you may get a little lost with all the characters and the fast paced events. ——————————- Chapter 1

Just as the train began to emerge from the tunnel, the three girls, battered, bruised, and unconscious, slumped into the rank filth on the floor. Skylar stepped out of the lavatory, her expression serene and utterly untouched. With a flick of her wrist, she wedged a folded book into the handle assembly, locking them inside to their agonizing awakening. She then calmly tossed the now-splintered wooden dipper into a bin. The momentary exertion had left her arms slightly aching, a grim reminder of her current physical limitations.

She’d dreamed of this for so long—and now, it was real. The shelves were filled with donated books, zines, memoirs, and poetry collections by survivors. A group of teens huddled in a circle at the back, speaking in low voices as they passed a shared notebook between them. One of the girls had blue streaks in her braids and wore a pin that read Your story matters. Skye caught her eye, and the girl smiled. River came up behind her, his hand sliding to the small of her back. “Full house today,” he murmured.