Yuri Ddlc Quotes

“You have to choose between death or becoming my slave. Either I give you a death sentence now, or your life becomes enslaved. I have given you the liberty to choose.”  On the night of her 18th birthday, the time came for princess Alexa of the Blue Scorpion pack to meet her mate. This particular moment was everything she’d hoped for, but in the end, what happened was not what she'd expected. She found her mate, alpha Logan of the Red Lotus pack, the youngest, most charming and most desired alpha in all the realm, also happens to be her enemy. That night, Logan was bent on achieving his revenge against Danister, the Blue Scorpion alpha. He wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way, not even Alexa. That same night unlocked a new life for Alexa, not only was her pack taken into captivity but she, the high-held princess, was also taken into slavery at the hands of her mate. For the trauma her father caused him in the past, Logan plans to do so many things to Alexa. He wants to hurt her, to make her pay for all his suffering, he wants to make life as miserable as possible for her, till the point she begs for death. Now, there’s only one problem standing in the way of his plans; the mate bond they share won’t let him. Instead, it draws him closer to her; it makes him yearn for her in the most unimaginable ways. Find out where this love story between Alexa and Logan will lead in The Alpha's Hated Slave Mate. Book 1 of the werewolf mate series Book 2- The Beta's Unexpected Mate For updates on character reveals and quotes, including all my books, follow my Facebook page, Eyitee's library.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.