Voltron Slav Novels & Stories

BOOOOM! The five hundred year old pure Chi energy shield shattered into smithereens in three seconds under the onslaught of Chloe Vanguard's trillion dollar capitalist capital. Hundreds of Obsidian Fang hybrids, now fully funded by Vanguard, barged in with thousands of elite troops of pure European wolves led directly by pure Alexander Sterling!

“I trust you know what to expect?” “THE ENEMY DEAD.” The entire team had unleashed a synchronized battle cry. “At ease, Voltiirs. As perked up as a drunk on spice cake are we?” The Captain cracked a joke, Froster was still human enough to recognize the reference. But he didn’t find it funny, and neither did the squad.

Tristan walked down the ramp. He did not look like a Prince of the Empire, nor did he look like the ragged exile he had been for months. His black tactical coat snapped in the canyon wind. His dark hair was messy, matted with sweat and soot. Blood stained the collar of his shirt from his earlier fights, and his icy blue eyes burned with a terrifying, absolute clarity. He was the Viper. The architect of the Empire's ruin. At his right shoulder walked Saoirse. The silver-haired Dragon of Aethelgard moved with predatory grace, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her estoc. The air around her actually rippled, distorting the light with the sheer, barely-contained thermal pressure she radiate

As I fight against the bindings, the arms of the wheelchair dig into my skin. A hard slap across my temple has me bent in half screaming. “Stop struggling,” Slone advises, her tone flat. “It won’t do you any good and you are just causing yourself harm.” “What do you care,” I spit, tasting blood where I bit the side of my mouth. “You’re planning on sacrificing me to some unnamed hell god anyway! I might as well go out fighting.”

He didn't throw a punch; he simply drove his open palm forward, unleashing the residual kinetic pressure stored in the relic's lattice. The resulting shockwave didn't just warp the air—it shattered the rain. A massive, concussive wall of invisible force slammed into the enforcer phalanx with the speed of a freight train. Riot shields splintered like cheap glass. Heavily armored soldiers were lifted completely off their feet, thrown backward into the concrete pillars and supply crates like discarded toys. The path to the VTOL was instantly cleared. "Move! Move! Move!" Torin roared, laying down a burst of suppressive fire into the catwalks above to keep any remaining snipers pinned down.

My soul saw Slava. I saw Slava pinned beneath the Lycan Tsar in his obsidian fortress. I saw her silver-black hair floating around her shoulders, her pale skin flushed with heat, her lips parted in a breathless gasp as Vaelin Volkov’s broad hands mapped the curves of her hips. The thought of another male touching her—of the Tsar’s broad chest pressing against her bare breasts, of his mouth claiming the neck I had left unblemished—sent a wave of dark, agonizing fury ripping through my chest. My wolf let out a sudden, violent snarl deep in my throat.

Lucien shouts, his massive frame shifting into a partial lupine form as he drops from the overhead iron walkway, his claws tearing through two rival sentries before they can even raise their weapons. "Clear the southern wall!" Draven Volkov barks, his golden eyes glowing through the thick, rolling smoke as he unleashes a barrage of feral slashes, cutting down the Northern Dominion enforcers who try to advance on my position. "They are trying to box the Omega in!" "Not on my watch," Zane growls, his jaws snapping shut on an attacker's throat, spraying dark crimson across the floorboards near my head.

The blast of arousal that floods my panties had me momentarily stunned before the words he spoke slowly started to sink in. Did he just call me his slave? Anger burns away any lingering arousal that is left behind from the drop dead gorgeous vampire, causing me to see red when I turn to look at him. “I am not a slave.” I tell him, giving him my best glare that I can come up with. There is no way that I am going to allow this drop dead gorgeous, well…dead guy…take me back to his home to become his slave. I thought he was there to save me from being sold as a vampire’s slave, not take me home to be his own. There has to be something I can do to get out of this situation that I have found mysel

That is what I want her to be like for the rest of her life. A slave should always be a slave she can't try defending herself from someone like me oh no! If she leads me to be my slave forever I won't be messing with her again. If not I will spoil her image here and she will be ruined. I will make sure she doesn't see a spouse for herself and that everyone hates her. "Vivian Lively." As I was happy I heard my name so I checked who called me. It was Neil. He was carrying a long face with hatred on it.

A huge sign warned against bringing food and drinks into the area, but despite that some people still had open cola cans on their desks. Seeing Tom filled her with a feeling of mild disgust and nothing more. He was officially dead to her. Glancing over at Scarlett, she could tell her friend felt the same way. 'I can't believe I almost let you come between us,' Sienna thought. As the group walked past Tom's station Adrian stopped to say hi. He leaned over the table, taking Tom's mouse in his hand and clicking about the screen. "You should place one point in dark control," Adrian said. "Your minion's damage increase gives a passive buff."