The Anarchic Consort Novels & Stories

It was thick, heavy, and leaking so profusely that I licked my dry lips, imagining having to slurp and swallow all of that—so undignified, so obscene for a Consort. Eilis must have read the desperate hunger in my gaze. He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes for a moment, his jaw clenched as if in pain, then silently moved up and straddled my chest on the bed, being careful of my rounded stomach. I gasped as Eilis reached down, grabbing a fistful of my hair and nudging the slippery head against my lips. "Open your pretty mouth for me, my Consort." Gods, this shouldn’t have been so arousing. Being reminded of my position, of the utter inappropriateness of this distraction, shouldn’t have

She arched her back, baring herself to him, nothing but heels and that smug, flushed face. “Then die happy,” she whispered. He cursed under his breath, undressing fast. She was on her knees now, crawling toward him like a goddamn fantasy, dragging her fingers down his stomach, eyes burning. The second his jeans hit the floor, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. Their mouths met again — not soft. Not tender. Hungry. This wasn’t sweet. This was five years of unresolved tension exploding like firecrackers in their skin. He laid her back, grabbing her thighs, spreading her wide and plunging into her in one brutal, perfect thrust.

“Taking those who are weaker, younger, making them fight for entertainment. And if you refuse, you die.” I share a look with Nero and Orion. This isn’t just some small-time operation. This is organized. A full-blown fucking enterprise. And it’s spreading like a goddamn virus through our packs. “I’m gonna need more than that, Aeron,” Nero says, his voice tight with barely restrained rage. “We can’t take this down without knowing who’s behind it. I’m going to have to contact Arkyn and Creed at this fucking rate.” Aeron hesitates, his gaze flicking to the floor. “There’s one name I remember … someone they mentioned a lot. He’s not a wolf, but he’s the one pulling the strings.”

The name dropped into the silence like a depth charge. Mr. Thorne. William’s defeated, disgraced cousin. Not a lone wolf seeking corporate revenge. A member, likely a founding one of this purist consortium. His very public, vicious attack on Williams Holdings wasn’t just a business rivalry or personal grudge. It had been the consortium’s Phase One, a direct, overt assault to remove William. When it failed spectacularly, they had activated their quieter, more insidious assets: the inside man (Tunde) and the ideologue (Bryce). Thorne’s defeat had not been the end of the war. It had been the end of the opening skirmish. He had been a spearhead, and behind him stood an entire, hidden army with d

Derek exclaimed with a devilish smirk. “Mate?” Chase and Madam Dera chorused in confusion, they looked over to the wizard and his apprentice who nodded their head, they were all the more confused. How in the world is she the Alpha's mate? An item for the sacrifice turns out to be his mate. Alpha Kaiden’s agonized yells filled the room, Chase could feel the agony in that yell, Chase felt so weakened seeing that the Alpha was in great agony while Garry, Diana, Derek, and Danica were laughing.

“The circle closed. The three bloodlines, wolf, vampire, and the old gods, finally braided into one perfect noose.” His hand slid to my stomach. The child inside me went still, listening. “It’s almost time,” he said. “The coronation moon is full tonight. You will birth the new world at its zenith. And I will stand at your side as the first of your consorts.” I stepped back. The shadow blade uncoiled, ready. “Consort?” I repeated. “I already killed one husband tonight. I’m not in the market for another.” His smile widened, showing fangs longer than any I’d ever seen.

Each letter carved with violence, the exposed flesh revealing the brutality used. I close my eyes, feeling unbearable despair and growing anger. Without thinking, I punch the door violently, slamming it repeatedly. He's found her. That son of a bitch took her from me. James. Kiki's fucking husband, the head of Dominus, one of the bloodiest mercenary companies today. Fuck! Only someone like him could bring down all the security and, of course, he must have used that asshole Lohan as bait. That's why he was missing... fucking bastard! I kick the wall as hard as I can, banging my head against it.

She flipped open the document without waiting for my permission, pointing to a clause midway down. Clause 17: The Consort may not enter into romantic or sexual agreements with any other party during the duration of this agreement. Exclusivity is non-negotiable. I blinked. “Consort?” Clarisse adjusted her blazer. “A placeholder term. The Don prefers… discretion.” I was too stunned to speak.

I can almost hear the crack in her voice as she protests under her breath, a mixture of indignation and embarrassment, and it sharpens the pulse at my temple. And yet, the last dangerous fantasy plays like a reel. One where she spills coffee on my table and faces the consequences of taking off her shirt to clean it up. I imagine her standing there, stripped of autonomy before clothing ever comes off — shame burning her throat as she realizes I orchestrated it all. Shit. In any other situation, I would’ve enjoyed having her too much. My shaft twitches, and I pry my eyes open forcefully. Hell no, I won't give her what she wishes for.

To the small office I kept, the one Xander forgot I had. I pulled out parchment. Ink. "To the Esteemed Council of the Moon Pack, Regarding the health and lineage of the Royal Consort..." No. Too soft. "To the Council, It has come to my attention that the Consort, Ashton, has been procuring forbidden substances outside the citadel without His Majesty’s knowledge. Substances used to mask lineage and scent. In light of the upcoming heir, I believe a full inspection is warranted for the safety of the bloodline." Better. I signed it with a flourish. Brenda of House Velra. Let Xander deny it. Let him call me jealous.