The Brutal Telling Novels & Stories

I felt his grip around my wrist start to tighten, the pressure gradually increasing. I met his gaze and said. "The four-eyed beast told me... Alpha Bruno, to be exact, that if you ever repeat the violence you pulled yesterday, he’ll rip out your tongue and teeth himself. I mean, even someone as big as you should still feel pain, right? Especially the kind that comes slowly... and doesn’t end quickly. He will torture you to death." I watched as his jaw tensed. His mouth started to close, like he was finally realizing I wasn’t bluffing.

She is unrecognizable, a broken shell, soaked in blood. There is so much blood. The brutality continues. Henry lands one last vicious kick, his boot colliding with her skull in a sickening thud. I can’t tear my eyes away. I’m rooted in place by the violence, by the sheer terror of it. If not for Aiden’s grip, I would have collapsed right there.

Silva’s POV I dragged my broken body across the cold floor, every inch slick with my own blood. My nails were cracked, arms trembling, but I didn’t stop. If they were not going to listen to me, then I had to get out. I would scream until someone heard my voice. I couldn't let them live so shamelessly, I had to expose their true faces. “You’re murderers!” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You killed my baby. You… you fed on my pain for years! I’ll tell everyone! The pack will—”

I wasn’t wet. With a powerful thrust, I gasped in pain. "Aaahh!" Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead as he began to thrust in roughly and recklessly. Each thrust was powerful, and every stroke was deep. "Stop, you are hurting me," I groaned in pain, trying to push him off me. But he grabbed my arm, pressed my waist down, and continued to thrust into me brutally. "You are so tight, bitch!" he groaned excitedly and raised his hand to smack my arm roughly.

His touch was brutal, pinning my thighs apart with the force of a man who crushed enemies without remorse. Every stroke ignited nerves, raw with fear, as the world contracted into their dominance, leaving surrender as the only option.

Alan whimpered, his voice trembling. “Don’t you dare touch my son!” Braylon snarled, fury burning in his chest. But before he could make another move, a brutal punch landed in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He coughed up blood as he dropped to his knees, his body trembling from the force of the blow. The leader’s subordinate continued to rain down punches on Braylon, each hit sending waves of pain through him. Braylon’s vision blurred, and his strength was fading fast. Adler, struggling to move, tried in vain to intervene, but he, too, was being beaten mercilessly.

A curse came out from his mouth involuntarily. Iris was lying down on the cold floor soaked in gallons of cold water. After ten she almost lost the counts also but didn't open her mouth to beg him. If he was the Bratva, she was also a hard nut to be cracked and she wasn't ready to give up without fighting. They say the blood talks and Iris proved that bringing her own miseries on her. What she missed was the biggest truth that was shining in broad daylight. To kill Bratva she had to survive but her stubbornness was pushing her more into the darkest alley of suffering and death.

One brutal thrust and I buried myself to the hilt. She cried out—sharp, broken, perfect—nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood. The pain only fueled the rut, made me drive deeper, harder, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing over the roar of the shower. Her walls clenched around me, slick and scorching, pulling me in like she was made for this—for me.

He raised the whip in his hand and personally delivered two cruel blows. The saltwater on the tip of the whip seeps through the torn skin, seeping into the flesh and blood, causing so much pain that it can cause people to convulse their whole body, roll over, and groan. But Liam gritted his teeth, not making a single sound of submission. If it weren't for the bleeding corner of his mouth, Bruno would have assumed he didn't feel pain. “As expected, someone who has followed Shane for so many years, your personality is tough. Good. But no one can bravely face torture, we still have a lot of time. Over the next seven days, hot iron, needles, sticks, acid... we will try each one.”

Two against one, three, four, five—no one can bring him down and no one can get past him. Wet crunches and sharp cracks mingle with screams. The females and pups flee and form a loose circle several yards away to watch in horror as male after male crumples at my mate’s feet. Behind me, in front of the big furnace’s hearth, Leith Munroe whales on Bram Blackburn’s limp body. At some point, when the attackers have been winnowed down to a handful, Tandie ventures over from the gravel lot and picks her way through the carnage to crouch beside me and stare as Leith pounds Bram’s face into pulp. There’s an odd expression on her face. I wouldn’t quite call it pleased, but I can’t think of another wa