The Forbidden Shorts の小説・ストーリー

#Flashback. Lorenzo, the beta of the Silver pack had a mutual relationship with the queen mother of the Blood pack, Annabelle but this is a taboo and no figure if out until one day Axel was on night duty and had caught the both of them having wild sex. They bribed him and he promised to keep it a secret until he used it against them. He starts to demand something that is impossible until one day he left his duty and went to pay Lorenzo a visit in the office. Xalorad doesn't like the relationship between them but anytime he brings it up, Lorenzo came up with an excuse that he is only training him exclusively.

One of these days, my curiosity is probably going to end up killing me. For one guy there sure seems to be a lot of doors to open to get to him. “You see amore mio, we call this the mute chamber. Two sound proof rooms means no sound goes out.” Leo winks. I gulp, my stomach twisting into knots as I take in what it is that he is telling me. Now I wish I never asked.

The empty road rang out with the jarring sound of gunshots echoing through the air. “What did you do with our package?” Sebastian grabbed his collar. “Where is my money?” “L-let me go!” Bruno stuttered. Just as Sebastian was about to throw a punch, a commanding, stern voice cut through the tension. “FEET SHOULDER-WIDTH APART, HANDS UP!” The moment Sebastian’s hands let go, Bruno immediately started limping away from his hold. Sebastian’s smirk widened as he slowly stood up, catching Janet’s attention as she watched the man’s impressive physique from behind.

"We can't afford to replace expensive items because of your clumsiness." I kept my head down and nodded silently. People like Vera always found reasons to criticize everything I did. Maybe it was because I was an orphan with no family to defend me. Or maybe because of the strange silver birthmark on my shoulder that I kept carefully hidden under my clothes. It looked like a crescent moon caught in thorny vines, and the old pack shaman had once told me it meant I was "touched by unusual magic." Whatever the reason, I'd learned long ago to stay quiet and avoid drawing attention to myself.

 ~AUTHOR'S POV~

It was the strap of the mask that had broken and snapped against my skin. Feeling embarrassed, I looked around to see if anyone had noticed my mishap. And that's when I saw the brown-haired hunk from earlier, laughing at me from across the room. My face turned red with embarrassment as I realized he had seen me making a fool of myself. I quickly looked away, pretending not to notice him. After what seemed like an eternity, my father finally returned to the table. "You can put on your masks now," he instructed, gesturing to the masks that were lying in front of us.

On the way to the hospital in my daughter's car, my legs felt cramped, so I adjusted the angle of the passenger seat. A second later, I heard a soft snap from beneath the seat. A toothpick had broken. I jumped in fright as my daughter, Marissa Langford, slammed on the brakes, her face turning pale. "Why would you touch that? Tyler set that seat to a specific position on purpose. He uses it to check whether another man has been sitting in the passenger seat. How am I supposed to explain this now?" Realizing I'd caused trouble for her marriage, I immediately sent Tyler Ashford, my son-in-law, an apology. Hours passed without a reply. Eventually, all I received was a cold laughing emoji.

Boys in college were nowhere near as hot as he is. I slid two fingers through my folds just to check: slick, swollen, ready. One stroke and my back arched. But I stopped myself. Not yet. I wanted to stay on that edge all day, sharp and hungry, so that when he finally broke, the fall would destroy us both in all the best ways. I walked downstairs barefoot. The marble was cold against my soles, a shock that zipped straight to my nipples. I’d chosen the tiniest white cotton shorts on purpose; the seam split my lips and rubbed my clit with every step.

"Weird is sweet, ShaQuan." "It’s forbidden," I countered. "Not just weird. It’s a line you don't cross." "Forbidden is the vibe," she whispered. Her hand reached out, her fingers slowly roaming over my chest, tracing the muscles. "It has to be forbidden for it to feel this good. Think about it."

Marcus pocketed it while I sifted through old files, one labeled Project Rebirth – Preliminary Logs. I opened it and skimmed. The text was technical, but clear enough: Neurofix wasn’t just meant to heal trauma. It was designed to rewire memory, shape behavior—create new emotional templates. “Controlled therapeutic reprogramming,” they called it. But the side effects? Psychosis. Loss of self. Dependency. And in some cases… violence. A photo fell from one of the folders. I froze. It was me—but younger. And beside me stood a man. Familiar eyes. Familiar shape. But I didn’t know him. Or maybe… I had once.