Follow
Chapters
Share
Bought By The Beast  Novel Cover

Bought By The Beast

When Rielle Morven is betrayed by her boyfriend and sold at an illegal werewolf auction to pay off his debts, she expects her life is over. But the male who buys her for five million dollars isn't a werewolf alpha, he's something far more dangerous. Caspian Valdyr is a lycan king with a reputation for violence and a hunger for control. He doesn't just want Rielle's body, he wants to claim her soul through an unbreakable mate bond that will tie them together forever. But Rielle carries a secret in her blood that makes her worth more than gold to the wrong people. When a fifty-million-dollar bounty is placed on her head, Caspian must decide: return her to the monsters who want to breed her like livestock, or go to war to keep what he's claimed as his. In a world where power is everything and mercy is weakness, Rielle discovers that being owned by a beast might be her only path to freedom. But freedom comes with a price, and Caspian's claiming bite will mark her as his for eternity. One auction. One bite. One bond that will either save them both or destroy everything. A fast-paced, high-heat dark romance featuring an obsessive anti-hero, a heroine discovering her hidden power, explosive chemistry, and absolutely no holding back.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 6

I should have felt trapped. That was the logical reaction. Everything about him was too fast, too absolute, too final.

But the bond didn’t give me space for logic. It pressed emotion into everything... fear, relief, heat, instinct... until nothing felt clean enough to separate. I didn’t know if I was being taken or chosen. Only that my body had stopped treating those two things as different.

I woke slowly, caught between sleep and something heavier, more aware. For a few seconds, I couldn’t figure out what felt different. Then it settled in.

The room wasn’t mine.

And I wasn’t alone.

The air carried a faint warmth, the kind of heat left behind by someone else’s presence, and it pressed against my skin like a warning. My eyes opened to sunlight spilling through tall windows, streaking across the floor in gold and white. The quiet hum of the morning should have been calming, but instead, it amplified the steady, unmistakable feeling of being watched.

Caspian lay beside me, propped on one elbow, his silver gaze fixed on my face as if he had been studying me every second of the night. His presence was overwhelming, more than just physical and it pressed on me through the bond, a constant pull that I was still learning to recognize and resist.

"How long have you been staring?" I asked, my voice rough from sleep, betraying the tight knot of tension in my chest.

"Long enough to know you don’t sleep well," he said calmly. "You were restless." 

"That’s not an answer," I muttered, squinting against the morning light.

A faint curve touched his mouth, just enough to hint at amusement. "Three hours," he admitted plainly, almost as if it were a fact and nothing more.

I blinked at him. “That’s… not normal.”

“No,” he agreed easily. “But neither is this.”

His hand rested lightly on my shoulder as I shifted, grounding me even as the ache in my muscles reminded me of the venom still working through my system. The lingering heat under my skin, the almost imperceptible hum of the bond deep in my chest and it all pressed together in a strange, unrelenting intensity that made me feel exposed, vulnerable, and inexplicably drawn to him all at once.

I tried to sit up.

Regretted it instantly.

A dull ache spread through my body, muscles stiff and sore as though every fiber of me had been rewoven overnight. Caspian’s hand pressed gently against my shoulder, steadying me before I could twist the wrong way.

"Easy. The venom’s still settling," he said, voice calm, measured, but with a note of possession that made the hairs on my neck rise.

"How long does that take?" I asked, forcing myself to breathe through the soreness, through the way my body seemed to tingle with anticipation and residual pain at the same time.

"A day or two." His thumb brushed absently along my collarbone, casual yet deliberate, every touch threaded with the quiet satisfaction he took in my recovery. "Then you’ll feel better than you ever have."

Stronger. Faster. Changed.

I felt it through the bond, a faint echo of his pride, his possessiveness, the pull toward me that refused to weaken even for a second. It was strange, disorienting, and intoxicating all at once. My chest tightened at the awareness of him, of his thoughts and emotions wrapped around mine, and I exhaled slowly.

Pushing myself up against the headboard this time, careful not to aggravate my muscles further, I murmured, "This is going to take some getting used to." 

"It won’t take as long as you think," he said.

There was a hardness in his gaze now, a subtle shift from calm to something darker, sharper. The bond responded immediately, a low, insistent pressure in my stomach that had nothing to do with pain.

I frowned at him. "Don’t start." 

"I haven’t done anything," he said, voice deceptively neutral.

"You’re thinking about it," I accused, voice uneven.

His expression didn’t change, but through the bond, I felt the truth before he spoke. "I’m always thinking about it." 

Heat crept up my neck despite myself. "We just woke up," I said weakly, trying to maintain some control.

"And?" His tone dropped just slightly, heavy with intent. "That’s never stopped me before." 

"That’s not reassuring," I said, though the warmth curling through me told a different story.

"It’s not meant to be," he said, and his hand moved, deliberate and slow, tracing from my shoulder with a precision that made my pulse spike. Not aggressive, not rushed, just… aware. Fully aware.

I tried to focus on the ache in my muscles, the dull throb of residual venom, but my body betrayed me. Every flicker of interest, every tiny reaction was mirrored back through the bond. It was too much, exposing more than I wanted him to see.

"There it is," he murmured, and I felt the shiver of his satisfaction.

"Stop narrating my reactions," I said, glaring at him though it accomplished nothing.

"Then stop reacting," he countered, tone teasing, controlled, impossibly dominant.

I exhaled sharply, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. The bond amplified every sensation, every pulse of heat, every subtle tightening of muscles. My chest rose and fell unevenly as the awareness of him settled deep inside me.

"This is the bond messing with my head," I muttered.

"It’s not just your head," he said, calm, steady, unyielding.

My phone vibrated on the counter. The one from yesterday that I’d completely forgotten existed.

Seventeen missed calls. All unknown numbers.

"Don’t answer those," Caspian said without looking up. "Marcus trying to reach you. Kieran’s friends. People you don’t want to talk to."

I put the phone down, but it immediately vibrated again.

This time with a text message.

Unknown: He can't protect you forever. 50 million is a lot of motivation. Sleep well, Rielle.

My blood turned cold.

Caspian was there in an instant, reading over my shoulder. His rage flooded through the bond... hot, violent, barely controlled.

"They're threatening you in my safe house." His voice was eerily calm. "They're actually that fucking stupid." 

"How did they even get my number?" 

"Marcus has resources." He grabbed his own phone, fingers flying. "But so do I."

His phone rang two seconds later. David’s voice came through the speaker, dry and amused. "They're getting bold." 

"Trace it," Caspian ordered.

"Already working on it. But Caspian... there's something else. Something you need to know." 

"What?" 

"Marcus put out a second bounty. Not for Rielle." David paused. "For you. Dead only. Hundred million." 

The kitchen went dead silent.

"He's trying to remove you from the equation," David continued. "Figures if you're dead, the bond breaks, Rielle's vulnerable again and someone else claims her." 

"The bond doesn't break with death" I said. "Caspian told me..." 

"It doesn't fully break. But it weakens. Enough that another lycan could claim her if they moved fast enough." David's tone turned grim. " Marcus is betting someone will take that risk for a hundred million."

Caspian's hand found mine, gripping tight. Through the bond, I felt his fury and something else.

Fear.

Not for himself. For me. For what would happen if he failed to protect me.

" How many takers? " Caspian asked.

"So far? Twelve confirmed. All high-level hunters. Some are lycans, which is the real problem. They know what they're up against."

"Names." 

David rattled them off. Each one made Caspian's jaw tighter.

"We're going hunting," Caspian said when David finished.

"Caspian..." 

"They want me dead? Fine. Let them try. But I'm not sitting here waiting for them to come to us." He looked at me. "You're staying here. Locked down. Full security."

"No." The word escaped before I could stop it."I'm not sitting here waiting to find out if you die." 

"Rielle..." 

"The bond goes both ways, remember?" My voice was shaking but I kept going. "If you're in danger, I feel it. If you get hurt, I feel it. If you die..." I couldn't finish that sentence."I'd rather be there. Fighting with you. Than sitting here feeling you die through the bond while I can't do anything about it."

Silence fell.

Then David’s voice: "She's right. The bond makes separation dangerous. If you go down, she'll feel it and be vulnerable here alone. Better to keep her with you."

Caspian looked at me for a long moment. "You understand what you're asking? I'm going to kill people today. Probably a lot of people. And you'll be there watching." 

"I watched yesterday." 

"That was self-defense. This is preemptive hunting." His eyes were solid silver now. "This is me being the monster everyone's afraid of."

Through the bond, I felt what he wasn't saying. He was worried I'd see him at his absolute worst and realize I'd made a huge mistake. That the claiming would start feeling like a trap instead of protection.

I stepped closer, put my hand over his heart. "I've already seen the monster. I let him bite me anyway. So show me what happens when someone's stupid enough to threaten what's yours."

His smile was all teeth and violence and dark promise.

"As you wish." 

You may also like

A Violent Kind of Grace Novel Cover
7.9
After her father's death leaves the Rossi family in ruin, Elvira discovers she is actually the long-lost heiress of the wealthy LaRosa clan. To fund her people, she infiltrates her biological family, hiding her ruthless upbringing behind a mask of grace. However, when challenged by a fake heiress and a patronizing fiancé, Elvira abandons diplomacy. Using raw strength and mafia tactics, she proves that violence is the only language her new enemies truly understand.
After My Fiancé Tried to Burn Me Alive Novel Cover
9.7
A meticulously set birthday dinner for two sets a deceptive stage in the dark mystery novel, After My Fiancé Tried to Burn Me Alive. With the private chef gone, flickering candles and fine wine promise a romantic evening. However, the intimate atmosphere is shattered when her phone begins to ring relentlessly. This persistent buzzing ignites a chilling modern horror, transforming a night of anticipation into a terrifying, high-stakes struggle for survival.
Allied With My Rival and Made the Don Kneel Novel Cover
9.6
Gia is done playing the role of the dutiful Donna to Vito Corti, the youngest Don in Emaly. When she presents a divorce agreement, the arrogant mafia head assumes it is another tantrum for attention. Even as Vito flaunts his latest affair, Gia remains calm, surrendering her claims to his bank accounts, estates, and armored convoys. While Vito believes his devotion is her ultimate goal, Gia’s only desire is to escape his reach and the constraints of their marriage.
Caged Like a Dog for Her True Love Novel Cover
8.0
After being kidnapped and tortured by a pack of dogs and sadistic socialites, Christopher Bowman is rescued by his sister Claire and fiancee Heather. He suffers horrific injuries, but his relief is short-lived. While recovering, he overhears a chilling confession: the two women he trusted most organized his abduction to ensure Samuel wins a prestigious competition. Realizing he was merely a sacrificial pawn and a replacement, Christopher decides to cut ties with his betrayers forever.
Faked Death, True Revenge Begins Novel Cover
8.3
For five years, I was the devoted girlfriend of a corporate heir, Alden Stone. He gave me a single red rose every month, a symbol of his love. But it was all a beautifully crafted lie. On our anniversary, I discovered the truth: the roses were named "Gabriella," for the woman he was obsessed with. He didn't just break my heart; he stole my life's work-a revolutionary cancer formula-and gave it to her to secure their family alliance. At the gala celebrating her supposed genius, I confronted him. "Don't make a scene," he hissed, his eyes cold. "Gabriella is pregnant. If you try to expose her, I will personally see to it that your career is over." From the stage, Gabriella gave me a predatory smile, flaunting a diamond bracelet I had designed for myself. My love, my future, my life's work-all sacrificed for his obsession. He had played me for a fool and left me with nothing. So I faked my death. I recorded a video exposing their lies, set it to go viral, and sailed his yacht straight into a storm. The world would believe Katelynn Walls was dead, but I was just getting started.
He Chose Her Lies, I Chose Revenge Novel Cover
8.7
I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella. Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark. But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved. Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies. When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel. While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest. The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella. He ordered my father to punish me. I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth. That night, the love in my heart finally died. On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape-the only proof that I was Seven. Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney. By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return.