When He Was Wicked Read Online Free Novels & Stories

But all that was left was heaping piles of ashes. The pain kept spreading, like every inch of my skin was being ripped apart. “Aaah!” I screamed, falling to my knees. The wind cried out violently, and I could hear trees breaking. The darkness. It was taking over me. Stop fighting it, Evelyn. “Eve!” I heard my name. I needed reality. Just a touch, please, please… PLEASE! The earth I stood on dropped to the ground with force fitting back into where it was before. I couldn’t feel much. It was like I was watching myself slowly disappear, and I couldn’t do much about it. Arms wrapped around me, and I felt a beam of heat hit my face. Slowly, I faded out, the last thing on my mind being three words

Baka nakakalimotan nila I’m a wicked dame, and wicked dame are very petty and cruel. I will exercise my right as a wicked dame, humanda kayo lahat kay Vice Captain Illiad! Akala nyo makakatakas kayo after niyo akong pagtulongan na di pansinin. The corner of my lips curve silently. I look at the dwarf who have a wrap expression on his face. I know, I also have that expression whenever they are things that I think won’t adheres to logic. “You got pretty lucky, if I did manage to scratch you just a little you would have probably be dead now.” I stated while smiling.

He said I could do anything I wanted if I put in my all. But he lied. This world is a wicked place and it has always been. I was just a weak human in this large world of wolves and the earlier I accepted that, the better. He held my hair, releasing his claws from my neck, and put his ears near my lips. “I’m gonna f*ck you till you can’t scream no more.” I cried and he grabbed my breasts, grasping them and squeezing my nipples. I yelped and he slapped my a*s, slipping his fingers into it.

I have broken a million rules after the assassination attempt: seeking shelter with a Werewolf; conversing with a Werewolf; sleeping in the same bed as a Werewolf; performing magic that I’m forbidden from performing. What if I have done something unforgivable?

- There would be detailed graphic scenes of abuse, sexual assault and other highly disturbing scenes. Do NOT read if you are triggered by- -Violence -Sexual abuse -Dark Manipulation -Mental Abuse -Physical Abuse -Blood -Gore -Mistreatment -Degradation I’m giving all the warnings beforehand, this book is not for faint hearts. It is extremely dark and disturbing! Meant for those who want to push their limits on the dark side. Hope you have a good read.

"Dex wants to be your bad boy. But me?" I leaned in until my lips were grazing the shell of her ear, until I could taste the salt on her skin. "I want to be the one who breaks you. I want to hear the bone snap in your virtue. I want to taste the blood and the sin on your tongue. Just this once. Let me have one taste of that filthy, forbidden cunt. Let me bury my face between your legs until you suffocate me with your thighs. I swear it. Just... let me ruin you, and I'll carry the shame to my grave."

Let's run. And we do. END OF BOOK FOUR: HER WICKED HEART

There were different cliques all paired up in school. Among the boys,we had the most popular Frank Kingston of course,the popular, wealthy, spoilt kid that everyone wanted to be friends with. I still remembered how he humiliated me in fifth grade and said I would end up being poor just like my mother, pompous, spoilt bastard.I became angry anytime I remembered what he did to me in fifth grade. I was angry for many reasons. I was angry because he insulted me and I was angry at myself because I had a huge crush on him. Well, who wouldn't. I was fat and ugly but I had feelings too and I wasn't blind not to notice that Frank Kingston was a tall handsome human with blonde, short hair and brown ey

Someday, I will be your undoing, you will beg for my touch, and every kiss will be as empty as your heart, leaving you desperate and unfulfilled, until every thought leads back to one person. Me. Yours Wickedly, Sierra. Unable to contain myself, I screamed into my pillow until my cheeks flushed bright pink. I can't believe I wrote that. It's a good thing, because he'll never read it. I picked up my cell phone and dialed a number. “You've reached the FBI's private hotline,” the automated voice spoke. “Who do you wish to speak with?” No matter what happens, I was going to be the reason Don Dante Spinelli's empire burned.

His robes whispered against the marble floor as he paced, each step echoing like the ticking of a clock. “I believe,” he said finally, his voice smooth and haunting, “that we’re the same, you and I.” I felt my chest tighten. “I’m nothing like you.” He stopped, turning to face me fully. The flicker of firelight caught on his grin—cold, knowing, and terrifyingly calm. “That’s what I said,” he murmured. “Once.” The Wicked’s blood-red eyes locked onto mine, unblinking and merciless. “I don’t mean hypothetically when I say we’re the same.”