Tormentor Novels & Stories

He says, and I look at him. “I love you too. You are it for me, Matteo. Now, what are we playing?” I say with a chuckle as the kids cheer and I smile as Matteo kisses me and takes my hand in his. I was damaged, broken, abused. I became a fighter, an Onryo, a warrior, a wife, a mother, a queen. But I will always be Tesoro. The End. Hello lovelies, Thank you so much for reading Tesoro. It was so emotional to write it, but I loved it.

Steel-Fist Predator said calmly but mocked him internally “Steel-fist while what you say makes sense I think Sword-saint still has a point, killing a child just because of such trivialities seems utterly absurd.” Flame-heart predator replied Steel-fist predator with a sneer “It seems Flame-heart has forgotten the history lessons we got when we were still basic Hunters, the only times glass-eyed Hunters appeared, they almost destroyed the entire race single handedly, unless you want a replay of the Great Massacre I’d advise we end the kid to avoid future troubles.” White-haired predator said grimly

But what I could stop… What I would stop… Was allowing him to do this to me anymore. My jaw tightened slowly while I wiped angrily at my face, because somewhere between the candles and the shattered plates, something inside me finally cracked wide open enough to let reality in. Torin might care about me. Hell, maybe he even loved me in whatever damaged way a man like him knew how. But love without respect? Without loyalty? Without choosing someone when temptation stood right in front of you? What the hell was that worth? A fresh wave of hurt rolled through me hard enough to make me curl slightly inward again.

He looks as angry as I have ever seen him but he stays. The pain does not stop, neither do the screams leaving my lips. This pain is worse than anything I have ever encountered. Worse than all the pain I have taken from others, worse than all the pain and torture of my past. It is worse than the pain of losing my grandparents. This pain cannot be forgiven. For the first time I welcome the rejection fully no matter how painful it will be or how much I love him. I just as I feel like I am dying I feel the blood coming from my nose, my tear ducts and my ears. I am literally feeling like I am dying. Then it just ends. I don’t know if it was minutes, hours or days but the ending has me passing ba

I should've known, how could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine? I just love building things up and then ✨shattering✨ it so my readers have a mental breakdown. It's what I live for, LMFAO! SORRY!! Anyways, y'all, hold on tight because this is only getting crazier.

You’re mine and always will be. Press 1 to save the message Message saved.

It's amazing. It's a lie, Torvin! Elara's voice boomed from the Battery grate. It's a mirror showing your own greed. And mirrors can break. Torvin sneered, pulling a heavy, black canister from his belt. Volkov knew you'd try to anchor it. He's been studying 'The Healer's Pulse' for years, Elara. Did you think we came here without a way to control you? Torvin slammed the canister into the ground. It didn't blow up. It started making a high-pitched Counter-Resonance-a sound so awful and out of tune that it instantly broke Elara's focus.

“You will be given obstacles. You will be forced to adapt. You will be tested under pressure.” Torren smirked. “I hope you’re ready for that,” he said quietly. I did not respond. Fenrir raised his hand. “Begin.” The moment his hand dropped, Torren moved. Extremely fast. He closed the distance between us in seconds, his blade coming straight for me. I blocked immediately, the force of his strike vibrating through my arm. He did not hold back. Not even a little. I stepped back quickly, creating space between us. “You’re slower today,” he said.

Torin's chains clanked against the cavern floor as Malachi's enforcers dragged him through the twisting tunnels, his naked body scraped raw by jagged rock. Blood from the blade nick at his throat dripped steadily, mixing with the sweat and grime caking his skin. Rage boiled in his veins, hotter than the bond's fire, fueling every snarl that ripped from his throat. Lyra's scent lingered on him—her pussy's slick heat, the salt of her tears—but it twisted into torment, knowing Malachi's hands had groped her breasts, his cock pressed against her ass. The Oracle's curse echoed in his skull: another male's touch on her would end him. But Malachi hadn't fucked her yet. Not fully. That slim mercy ke

I couldn’t take her annoying words and that was the moment I snapped. “You seem to be enjoying your new role as Salvatore Moreti’s wife,” I said, my voice a razor. “Almost like you’ve been training your whole life to be a trophy on his shelf. Or maybe a stepmother fetishist?” Her face twitched. Barely. But I saw it. That flash of pain. Of guilt. It was gone in a blink, but I’d already seen it. Good. I wanted to hurt her. Just a little. Just enough to remind her I was still inside her.