Twisted Cravings Novels & Stories

I twisted sideways just in time, feeling claws slice through the air where my throat had been a heartbeat earlier. Close. Another came at me immediately after, forcing me back until my shoulder slammed against the table. A sharp pain flared up. We couldn't play defence against them all night. We needed an offense The cravings!! That was it… The cravings amplified my speed and strength for a period of time, that meant I could take them. I took in a breath and then I let the hunger take over. The dark cravings roared violently awake inside me, flooding my veins with heat. The craving snapped its chains, tearing through my restraint like it had been waiting for this moment.

The craving of the week. I heard stories from Merigold, Lilly and the brothers about cravings. Some of the odd combinations they wanted. Like Lilly had to have ketchup on mashed potatoes for two weeks straight. Merigold was fried chicken and orange juice with Jace and Jax. With the girls she craved waffles with peanut butter and strawberries with a side of garlic pickles. I would have gotten Speed anything she wanted no matter how weird it was. I promise, but I’m so glad that the only craving Speed has was for sweets. She would eat them once in a while before she got pregnant but now she was eating them everyday. The biggest thing was ice creams and Merigold’s cookies. But all of that broug

Her brain short-circuited. Dolcezza. Sweetness. Of course, the mafia kingpin spoke like sin wrapped in silk. Sienna cleared her throat, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Actually, I was just wondering how many zeroes it takes to get everyone to pretend they enjoy being here.” For a split second, there was silence. Then—he chuckled. It was a dark, rich sound—not quite warm, but not cold either. Like he was amused despite himself. “More than you can count,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“I’m admitting it.” The words landed in her chest like heat. She set the glass down because her hands had started to shake. The marks on her arms looked like a language she was only now learning to read. Part of her wanted to stand up, put on a dress, go back to the version of herself that could still pretend this was a dangerous affair she would outgrow. The larger part of her stayed on the mattress, thighs loose, body still open from the afternoon, and did not move. “So we name it,” she said quietly. “The craving. Not the game. The thing that doesn’t shut off when the scene ends.”

Craving 4 (more desires) “Flip over, I'm ready for round two," she remarked, much like the player that she was. I couldn't move, being bound like a sacrificial lamb hindered my mobility. If she knew that she offered no hint. “Flip over, now,” she said, terror held me hard, I wanted to do what she asked but I couldn't do so as I couldn't move at all.

However, the other three shared a good bonding, and that was well known in society, but seeing the terror in Lyra’s eyes, they confirmed everything wasn’t sweet and home-like at all. It made me more curious about Lyra. I was hungry for her from the beginning. The moment I laid my eyes on her, I knew I had to have her in my life. As days passed into months and then in years, the appetite remained the same. On the contrary, it was emergent and turning me into a tyrant with a massive craving only for her.

“Every time I see you, it’s like a rush of euphoria that courses through my veins, leaving me craving for more. You’re the high that I can’t resist, the addiction that I willingly surrender to. Just like any addict, I find myself seeking my next hit of your presence. You’re the ultimate escape from reality, the temporary relief from the mundane. With you, I feel alive and free from the chains of everyday life.” He smiled and gently bumped our noses together. “But just like any drug, there’s a price to pay. The withdrawal symptoms kick in when you’re not around, leaving me longing for your touch, your voice, and your very essence. It’s a craving that consumes me, leaving me restless and yearn

One viral tweet thread: “Bro literally friend-zoned his ride-or-die in front of 200 people while crying over a human who clearly never wanted him. Valerie deserves better. He's such a big disgrace to the werewolf community. #ShadowmoonDrama” I scrolled faster. Another article popped up, this one from a business wire service that crossed over into supernatural circles: “Most Successful Young Businessman of the Year: Sebastian Silvercrest’s Empire Brings in $12M Monthly—But Can the Shadowmoon Heir Keep His Alpha Throne After Wedding Scandal?” The piece praised his conglomerate’s growth (tech-security mergers, pack-backed investments), then pivoted cruelly:

His hands circled my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies crashed. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t do anything now.” his hoarse voice whispered into my ears. “But one day, you’d be wriggling under me, begging for my touch. When that time comes, I’ll make you cum twice.”

And when the door closed behind him, I sank onto the mat, pulse racing, skin still warm from where he’d touched me. Blurred lines. That’s what this was becoming: a battle against my father, an uneasy partnership with my husband—and somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, something dangerously close to desire. I hated how much I craved it.