Tigry X Willow Romane & Geschichten

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

In a world where girls of my age crush over guys their age, I chose to love my handsome billionaire uncle blindly. You can judge me if you want, I don't give a fuck anyways. After anticipating his return for almost two years, he returned with some woman, whom he called his fiancée. No… that's something I wouldn't take, he is mine, always has been and always would be. Watch me go great lengths and even milestones to get my uncle to fall in love with me. They might call it childishness but I call it unwavering persistence to get the one I love.

lunch went by pretty quickly, and we were back to classes soon enough. I'd like to forget to get a book out of my locker, so I went to go quickly and went to get it. I was leaning against the locker next to mine as I quickly scanned my schedule on my locker door. When warm air fanned the side of my face. "Move" being the excellent human being I am, I jumped out of fright, flinging the heavy calculus textbook in my hands backward. I hear a grunt and turn to find the person hunched over as they hold part of their face "Oh God! I'm so sorry!" I panicked. and then he looked up. the first thing I noticed was his short, dark hair. it looked so smooth, and 1 almost reached out to play with it. My eyes trailed down to his strong jaw line, down to his broad shoulders. I didn't even realize that I was biting my lip as I further inspected the Adonis before me. His arm flexed, bringing my attention to the amber eye he was now covering It was him. Six. He is the most popular and dangerous guy in school. And I'd managed to injure him with my calculus textbook.

S.I.X. Also spelled SIX, or simply the number 6. With over eight billion people in the world, seven of those eight reckon with the name S.I.X. To the oblivious masses, it’s just a name. To the fairly informed, it’s a jinx, bringing destruction. To the cops and government, it’s their nemesis. And to the Mafia world, it’s the legacy of a legend. * Ten years in the Italian ‘La Fratellanza’ Mafia family, SIX has harbored a fervent urge to hang up his boots and leave the dark world he has grown to love. But he, more than anyone else, knows the rules: the brotherhood is forever, and the only way out is in a body bag. With much appeal, he is cut some slack and given one condition - protect the Rodriguez heiress until she finally gets wedded to the Capo of the La Fratellanza family. Frustrated, SIX unwinds at a bar and ends up in bed with a mysterious vixen. The next morning, he takes the first flight to NYC to begin his assignment. But there she is, in the arms of the Capo, and he finally learns her real name - Arabella Rodriguez, fiancée to the Capo, heiress to the Rodriguez empire... and his fucking one-night stand. A bloody twist! But the beginning of a catastrophe in his quest to leave the dark world.

Beatrix is a beautiful girl in her 20s who lives in a mystical small town of WillowRidge where she runs a small book cafe. Her life changes when she somehow manages to get the attention of two powerful billionaires who are visiting the town for a business meeting. One of them her senior from school. They have a history. The other one the most handsome man in his late 20’s, who can put the world on fire for her.

Word on the street in the city of Hereshire was that Roy Chester had a penchant for eighteen-year-old girls. Yet, Willow Croyton was twenty-one when they started dating, and she stuck by him for nearly three years. She was a well-known simp to Roy, her only merit being her docility and good behavior. Later, when Willow left, Roy was spotted multiple times near her apartment block, his eyes teary. 

My mother was critically ill, and I drove five hundred miles back to my hometown alone. At a rest stop, I saw a video online. A young man had posted: "First day driving long-distance as a nervous beginner. My ex followed me for three hundred miles, all the way until I got home safely." In the video, a familiar black Mercedes followed a white car the entire way. The top comment came from a burner account: "I'm the driver's ex. No other meaning. I just couldn't stop worrying. "He's timid, but always tries to act brave. I was afraid something would happen to him. "Please don't overthink it. Don't bother him. I'll feel bad." The internet exploded. "What kind of once-in-a-lifetime devoted ex is this? Get back together already!" I stared at that Mercedes. The plate number was GB-8860V. It was my fiancee Vanessa Tomlinson's car. That morning, she had canceled the plan to drive home with me. She said her company had an emergency project and she could not get away. I had sent her dozens of messages, and she had not replied to a single one. Yet she had time to escort the man she never truly let go of for three hundred miles. My phone buzzed. Vanessa had finally texted me: "Is the interstate jammed? Drive safe."

Jackson is an heir to the fortune built on the suffering of enslaved werewolves. Angry at the injustice of it all, he has no choice but to play along with his father's wishes and bend to the society's pressure. Until one day he is ordered to purchase a werewolf 'worthy of standing by his side' at the market. So, maybe he obeyed his father's wishes, but to him it's the first step in his one-man rebellion, a spark that will kindle the flames, when he chooses a werewolf who is needier than the rest. Now Jackson must stoke those flames, while nurturing the traumatized wolf to health, before the world crushes his soul for good. Check out the artwork from chapter ‘Date’ on my Instagram (willowwrites1994) here - https://www.instagram.com/p/CIgP2PQFF8W/

I had been Silas Sterling's mate for seven years. We decided to get tattoos of each other's names. This was a Binding Tattoo that represented eternal love in the Moonstone Wolf pack. It had the power to bind mates eternally. When I got the tattoo, I realized the malicious words 'Public Male Amenity' had been tattooed on my chest. It chilled me to the bone. My adopted sister, Greta Pound, was the one who tattooed me. She covered her mouth as she laughed. "Don't you always enjoy attracting the attention of all the male werewolves by dressing so skimpily in the pack, Freya? I'm just helping you to publicize this." Greta was a female werewolf I had saved. Why was she treating me this way when I treated her like my sister? I grabbed her hair angrily, but Silas pushed me violently to the side as he pulled Greta protectively into his arms. He frowned as he berated me unhappily, "Greta was just joking with you. Why are you so mad about it?" I stared at his bare chest where my name should be tattooed. However, the name 'Greta' was there instead. She looked up at me from Silas' arms and smiled innocently yet tauntingly at me. "Silas said our names rhymed, Freya, so I played a joke by tattooing my name on him. You aren't mad about this, are you?"

While I'm waiting for my wife, Anna Fulton, I happen to come across a popular post on social media that's posted by someone who lives in the same city as I do. "What should I do if my husband clings to me too much?" Among the comments that make fun of the original poster for flaunting her happy marriage on the Internet, the lengthy comment left by a masculine ID attracts my attention. "You gotta pretend to be ditzy and dumb. My childhood friend was forced to marry the man she doesn't love, so I suggested to her that she should pretend to be a directionally-challenged idiot. She kept up that facade for five years so far. "After that, her mother-in-law kept urging her to give birth to a baby. So, she secretly coated the stairs with grease, leading to her husband falling down the stairs. When she drove him to the hospital, she pretended to lose her way and drove a few laps around the suburban area. In the end, her husband could never get his manhood up ever again because the treatment got delayed. "Her mother-in-law thought it was an accident. She was afraid that my childhood friend might abandon her husband, so she bought her a house and a car. You have no idea how much that mother-in-law sucked up to her! "Today is her husband's professor selection day. She even suggested to him that she'd drive him to the campus. But the truth is, she plans on pretending to lose her way in the traffic just to drag the time out so that I can replace him in the selection. "Once her husband fails the selection, she'll use the opportunity to convince him to resign from his job. He's already a loser, to begin with. Once he loses his job, she'll have a valid reason to divorce him once and for all." The familiar experience makes my heart skip a beat. Before I can ruminate about the details, I hear Anna's guilt-ridden voice drifting into my ear. "I think I'm lost, Claude. Surely you can make it to the selection on time, right?"