Vim And Vigor Hours Novels & Stories

Gina and I were just ordinary werewolves in the Silver Claw Pack. Our incomes were modest, but we married well. Her mate was the captain of the Silver Claw Pack patrol unit. Mine, the fire squad leader. They grew up together—childhood friends—and were the youngest golden duo in the Werewolf Alliance. On the day we married, our mates each bought us a luxury high-rise apartment on the top floor of the central castle, side by side, with the promise of sharing life and death together. That is, until that fateful night. Rogues broke into the central zone. Chaos reached even the upper levels of our building. The tower caught fire. Amidst the thick smoke, I sent a desperate mind-link to my mate. He blocked it. Turns out, both our mates were busy shielding their shared first love, Lifu. They ignored our calls for help. Gina dragged me as we ran. She was six months pregnant; her pup was already kicking from the panic. Her mate never showed up either. We made it to the stairwell, where we were trapped for five hours. Toxic fumes filled our lungs. I went into labor too early. My pup didn't make it. Gina bled for three days in the hospital. Her pup was gone too. Meanwhile, our mates were digging through the wreckage—twenty-four hours straight—searching for Lifu's lost dog. That was it. Right then and there, Gina and I looked at each other and knew. We were done.

I died with my mother's name on my lips and the face of the man who killed her burned into my memory. I woke up two years later in a stranger's body with gentle hands and no past... just a quiet life, a herb garden, and the kind of peace that feels too clean to be real. I did not know who I was. I did not know what I had lost. Not yet. Then I found him bleeding in the forest. And I made the worst decision of my second life... I saved him. His name is Caius. He is the Alpha of Ironblood Pack, the most powerful and feared wolf in three territories. He is cruel in the way that powerful men are cruel... not with raised voices, but with absolute certainty that the world belongs to him. He looked at me with those cold eyes and he saw a healer. A useful thing. He brought me into his pack like a man bringing home a tool he found on the road. What I did not plan for was him. Not the real version of him... the one that shows up at the healer wing at strange hours with small injuries and no good reason to be there. The one who looks at me like I am something he cannot figure out. The one who, for the first time in what I suspect is his entire life, seems to want to be a better man. He is falling for me. And the worst part, the part I will never say out loud, is that I feel it too. My name is Maren. He does not know that yet. But he will.

Seven years ago, Vivienne Vane sacrificed her elite standing, her breathtaking beauty, and her health to save her daughter, Maya, through a secret, high-risk bone marrow transplant that left her chronically fatigued and physically altered. To protect her family from a ruthless shadow syndicate, she went undercover as a plain, submissive housewife, while secretly operating as "V"—the genius quantitative architect who single-handedly built her husband Julian Vance’s startup into a multi-billion-dollar empire. Julian, blinded by historical prejudice and convinced Vivienne drugged him to steal him from her beautiful older sister Cynthia, treats her with freezing disdain. The breaking point arrives when an active gunman storms a high-end restaurant. Julian uses his own body to shield Cynthia, leaving Vivienne directly in the line of fire. Hours later, brainwashed by Cynthia, their six-year-old daughter Maya tells Vivienne she wishes Cynthia was her real mother and leaves her alone in the hospital. Having paid her debt of love, Vivienne cuts the ties. She unleashes the Vane Financial Kill-Switch, strips Julian of his automated algorithmic edge, and walks out. As she enters a premium medical sanctuary to reclaim her health, she collides with Damian Thorne—the dangerous, sharp-witted titan of the city’s shipping cartels and Julian’s most lethal rival. While Julian and Cynthia realize their empire is hollow without "V," Vivienne undergoes a ruthless physical and social rebirth, ascending the ladders of global shadow power alongside a man who craves her mind as much as her body.

He vanished the night our child was born. A year later, he came back to take her from me. I never planned to be a mother. I only wanted to help Anthony Powell, a grieving widower desperate to hold onto a piece of his late wife. I agreed to carry his child with no strings. But when I went into labor, he never showed. Not a call. Not a word. Forty-eight hours passed. The hospital couldn’t reach him. And I was forced to make a choice that would change everything—I took that baby home and raised her as my own. For one perfect year, Nori was mine. Then he returned... Soaked in rain and regret, Anthony stood at my door with a story about a car crash and a coma. He said he never abandoned us. And then he demanded custody of the daughter I’d loved every day since her first breath. I lost everything when the courts sided with him and demanded I hand my baby over. But then...his lawyer came to me with an unthinkable offer: move into his home... and become Nori’s nanny. I said yes, but on my terms. If this “arrangement” fell apart, I wanted joint custody written in stone. Now I’m living under his roof, seeing glimpses of the man he used to be—the kind, broken soul who once only wanted a chance at fatherhood. But I can’t forget his cruelty and what he took from me. And the worst part? I think I’m falling for him all over again.

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

“I want a divorce, Sera. It’s time we both moved on.” She had heard those words before, rehearsed in the cold space between them, in the silences that stretched too long over dinner, in the way he never quite looked at her anymore. But hearing them out loud was different. Hearing them made it real. Sera Calloway had spent four years being the perfect wife. Quiet when she should have been loud. Patient when she should have been angry. She had loved Elliot with the kind of love that asks for nothing — and received exactly that in return. She thought their marriage was simply struggling. Broken, maybe. But still theirs. Until she found out it was never only theirs to begin with. Another woman. Another home. Another life he had carefully built in the hours she never thought to question. She hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t shattered. She had simply gone still, the way a person does when the ground disappears beneath them and there is nothing left to hold onto. Sera left without a word. No ultimatums. No tears he would ever see. Because some heartbreaks are too deep for noise. Now Elliot is unraveling. The life he thought he could keep — the one he hid behind — is falling apart without the woman he took for granted holding everything together. He never knew what she was. Not really. Not until she was gone. And now the question isn’t whether he still loves her. The question is — did Sera ever stop?

“Don’t you want to cum, goldie?” Draven whispered harshly as his rough hands pinned her wrists above her head. Luca’s lips trailed fire down her throat, nipping at her pulse, while Mateo’s fingers dipped between her thighs, teasing her wetness as she wiggled desperate for friction. “No escaping this storm—or us.” She arched against them, a whimper escaping her lips as Luca claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. There was no need arguing because she had known from the day they had walked in to find her naked in their bed that she was… Theirs To please. *** Soraya, a victim of abuse at the hands of her psychotic husband never thought that she would ever be free. She thought that she would wither away and die at his hands so when the opportunity to escape came, although unlikely, she grabbed it. She was free? Sadly, no. Mere hours into when her flight to freedom had taken off did it come crashing down. Literally!! She had barely had time to get over her narrow survival when she found herself trapped in a large mansion in the middle of nowhere. And worse of all, she's not alone. Have you ever heard the tale of Goldilocks and the three bears? The one where she stumbled into a cozy little cabin, ate their food and then got away scott free with three new friends. This is not that tale. In this tale, Goldie did stumble into the house of the three bears but she never went free. Instead, she discovered three psychotic brothers who showed her the consequence of trespassing.

I always had a weakness for handsome men, so I camped out online to grab one of the very first AI incubi. The brand's whole pitch was seduction tuned a hundred percent to its owner's taste. But every time I got within ten minutes of Lucien Crane, he'd force-start a system cleaning cycle, go dark, and idle out. "Master, please don't overuse me. Bacteria buildup can cause a malfunction." Left unsatisfied every single time, I finally went to customer service, and the rep looked as baffled as I felt. "An incubus unit would never break off contact with its owner. We'd recommend restarting him at home." But on the drive back, I happened to scroll past a livestream from my live-in housekeeper. The title sat right there in bold: How a Seasoned Queen Subdues In Her AI Incubus. The lighting was low. The man's earlobes were flushed, and he knelt on one knee, every inch of bared skin crossed with messy whip marks. My housekeeper wiggled her red-painted toes, all smiles. "This one's got real stamina. Five hours straight and he never once tapped out." As the comments poured in, envious, a chill ran through me. So the so-called "cleaning system" was just his excuse to slack off and idle. Behind my back, he was happily playing somebody else's obedient little sub. If he wouldn't serve me the way he was built to, then he could wait to get shipped back to the factory and scrapped for parts.

I gave a stranger my panties on a plane. Not because I'm reckless. Not because I do things like this. But because Damien Cross looked at me like I was something worth destroying himself over, and I wanted to be devoured. Four hours at 30,000 feet. That's all it took for him to unravel every careful thread of the life I'd built. One look. One touch. One whispered promise that I was his. Then he vanished. No calls. No texts. Just a breaking news report showing him married to someone else, while I stood in a hotel bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Six years later, I've rebuilt myself. I'm a mother. A success. I've learned to survive without him. Until he walks into my photoshoot and recognizes the birthmark he once traced with his tongue. He says he never stopped looking for me. That his marriage was a cage he's finally escaped. That the twin boys I've been raising alone are his sons, and he wants his family back. But Damien Cross is a man who deals in empires and enemies. Someone close to him wants me gone. The threats start. The danger escalates. And I realize that loving Damien means walking into a war I never signed up for. He says he'll burn the world down to keep us safe. I'm terrified he means it. Some men are worth the fall but men are the wreckage. But Damien is both.

"Get on your knees and fit my shaft between your filthy lips." "What?" "I'll finish if you do. I'll wrap my lips around this..." His fingers sink deep into the flesh between my thighs, and I relish his feel. "I'll let your legs hang around me, fall on my knees and sink my tongue into you." His words are tempting—not the teasing of his lips on my centre part, but the image forming in my mind of him on his knees before me. I want to see that. ** Ruby Mallory Clive loses her life only hours after being served divorce papers. By a stroke of fate, she wakes up days before her wedding, which, unfortunately, must go on. However, this time, she vows that things will be different—she will not, under any circumstance, fall for her husband, the Alpha, who hates her. Alpha Adrain Muaas Knox hates the 'Clive' family with all his heart; his contract wife is no exception. His plan had been to treat her with indifference, but the feisty little fox needed some training. When the lines between desire and hatred cross into obsession, will Ruby be able to let go of the repeating past, find her killer and await the inevitable divorce with her heart intact, or will she succumb to the Alpha's obsessive claim? ** This book can be read as a stand-alone; however, feel free to check out book one of the Lust & Hate Series: Bound to My Wicked Stepbrother.