
Enslaved By The Lycan King
His grin spread and he leaned closer to me, his scent overshadowing my senses. "I own you and this entire place, Scarlett. Whatever I decide to do to them is none of your business, is that clear?"
"I hate you, Asher. I hate you with every cell in my body!" I seethed through my teeth, but his grin only grew wider.
"We both know that you are lying..." His fingers moved to my chest, slowly making their way over my breasts, searching for my nipple. "Your whole body can't survive without me."
***
Scarlett's holy union to Asher, the feared king of the Forgotten Lands, was meant to unite kingdoms but behind closed doors, her marriage becomes a prison. Asher wants an heir, a throne, and revenge against the family that once ruled over him. Scarlett is only the means to an end.
Caught between a husband who breaks her body yet craves her soul, and a trusted friend whose loyalty hides a thirst for power, Scarlett learns that love in the Crystal Peaks is never gentle. It is claimed, twisted, and betrayed.
As war brews, dark magic awakens, and an enemy long thought dead returns, Scarlett must decide who she truly belongs to... and how much of herself she's willing to lose to survive.
Because in a world ruled by monsters, the most dangerous thing a woman can be is loved.
Book 3 of The Lycan King Series.
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Chapter 10
Chapter 10: Scarlett
My hands were sweaty and each second that passed without Asher in the room, felt like the world was crumbling outside. I paced in the room, reevaluating my decision over and over.
"I should tell Axel," I whispered as I stopped. But then I shook my head.
Telling Axel would be a disaster and if there was one thing Asher was right about, it was the fact that we couldn't stand his forces. They would win and our kingdom would become theirs.
But even greater than that, such a scandal would mean forever creating a sea between us. There wouldn't ever be a hope for us; for our love.
"Oh Scarlett," I winced as I slapped a hand to my forehead. I was being delusional.
Asher was sick and he never loved me. He said it himself, yet somehow, even my subconscious continued to defend him at the cost of my kingdom.
My heart hardened and I decided to put an end to this. I would tell my brother and together, we would think of the best way to deal with Asher.
As my mind made up, I turned to the door and pulled it open, but I came face to face with Asher; with Nathan's gruff voice echoing behind him.
"King Asher... is everything okay?" He asked again and from the look on Asher's face, I knew that his reply could get him caught, if I didn't do anything.
Before my brain could even process what I could do, I took Asher's hands in mine.
"Babe, did you find it? Goddess, please, I am dying..." I groaned, faking a weak expression.
His angered eyes understood what I was doing and in a matter of seconds, he fell into character as well. "I couldn't find any of the maids to help me... I am afraid we will have to wait till morning... can you manage?"
Nathan had gotten close to us at this point, and I saw his brows move in confusion. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, no. Actually, I was looking around for the maids. Scarlett has a terrible cramp and I... I just didn't know what to do and I didn't want to wake Violet..." Asher lied, and I feigned pain, clutching his hands as my life depended on it.
Nathan's confused state, quickly turned into concern as he took my free hand and checked my body temperature. "I should call the doctor. How bad is it?" he gently as he checked my eyes.
Then he turned to Asher, "The maids are all off duty. You should have called me... Let's get her to the clinic-"
"No, that won't be necessary!" Asher and I exclaimed at the same time, earning a strange glare from Nathan.
"I mean... I don't need a doctor. It's quite late. If I can get something hot... I should make it in the morning. It's not so bad." I quickly added, hoping to clear the awkward air our chorused answer had created.
Nathan took a minute to move his eyes over us, before finally nodding to me, then he gave Asher a bow. "If you are sure that's all you need, then I'll send someone to get it to you in a couple of minutes."
"Thank you so much," Asher whispered, his voice flooded with such relief, that I was certain whatever doubt Nathan could have had got washed away.
"Sure," Nathan replied, and Asher helped me into the room.
He purposefully left the door open, knowing that Nathan would probably still be watching. Asher gently placed me on the bed and pulled the blanket up to my chest, then his eyes paused over my face.
His stare was so intent, that my heart skipped a beat. I wanted to be strong.
I kept singing in my head that this was all a game, but my wolf couldn't tell the difference as I felt goosebumps appear on my skin when his fingers brushed away stray strands of hair from my face.
His eyes looked so sincere, so innocent, it was hard convincing my wolf that this was all a lie. That the man we were forever tied to, was a man driven by a sickening thirst for revenge on misplaced reasons.
I was still lost in my thoughts when the door abruptly closed, and his sweet face morphed into darkness. He peeled his fingers away from my face and growled.
"You did well, princess. Continue like this and maybe, your dear brother might get an easier punishment."
Irritated, I wanted to move away from him, but his large arms kept me pinned on the bed.
"You have nowhere to run, princess. Remember, you belong to me now..."
Tears of anger pricked the corners of my eyes and I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him that I didn't belong to him and that I would ruin his plans, but I also knew that saying all that would be useless.
My chaotic thoughts came to a sudden end, as a knock echoed on our door. Asher got away from the bed and pulled it open.
The guard bowed. "My lord Nathan asked that I had this to Princess Scarlett," he said, and Asher took it from him.
"You have done well... I will handle it from here. Thank you."
The man bowed again, and I could only guess what was going on in his head. Asher was so good at pretending that no one would even imagine him as a monster with such a beaming smile.
Yet as soon as the door closed, his true color showed. He practically dumped the tray carelessly on the drawer and pulled out his phone, before disappearing to the balcony to probably speak to his people.
It wasn't long before the emergency alarm rang out. The guards must have discovered the rebels dead, and I could only hope that Nathan wouldn't connect any of it to Asher.
I was going to ignore everything and force myself to sleep but the alarm only grew louder. I got off the bed and walked to the windows, only to see the firefighters rolling out hoses.
A frown settled on my face as I realized that a part of the castle was on fire.
Fear and panic flooded my system and without thinking, I grabbed my robe, tied it around myself, and ran out of the room.
"Scarlett?" I heard Asher yell behind me, but I wasn't about to stay on a comfortable bed when innocent people might be in trouble because of me.
I ran out of the building, watching wide-eyed at the flames that licked the lower sides.
"Oh, dear goddess," I whimpered, with my hand clamped against my mouth.
This was all my fault. I directed Asher to the dungeon, thinking he only wanted to kill the rebels, but he had other wicked intentions, even to innocent people.
My breathing started coming in fast as I took in the scene. The men ran around to put out the fire and the others tried to save whatever they could from it. Wounded slaves cried as the men helped them out of the flames. I could even see a few lifeless bodies and my heart broke totally.
I did this... I could have stopped it, but I didn't. I let my stupid emotions interfere and Asher had his way.
Anger, pain, guilt, remorse; everything rolled out of me, and my initial determination returned. I had to put an end to this.
I moved my eyes around the scene and luckily, I saw my brother and Uncle Greg, instructing the men on the side and my heart cracked. I had to tell them. I couldn't keep hiding this.
I began to run in their direction, ready to tell them everything I knew and let the consequences deal with itself. At least I would forgive myself for putting so many people through pain.
My heart rammed as I ran breathlessly towards them, but I barely got close when I crashed into Asher's massive chest.
"Where do you think you are going?" He hissed into my face as he grabbed me roughly by the arm.
My heart tore in anger and I pushed him away -Or tried to but he gripped me even tighter and pulled me away from the chaos to a corner, slapping my back to the wall as his large frame caged me.
"Let me go, Asher. Hmm... Get away from me. You are a monster. How could you do this?" I whimpered as my helplessness shook me like the rumble of a shattered house under a second wave of an earthquake.
"Don't be silly, Scarlett. Was I supposed to get permission from you? Huh?"
His eyes burned with emotions so evil, I couldn't even look through them. His presence disgusted me. I couldn't believe that his quest would drive him this far.
"Why did you burn it? Why didn't you just kill your rebels and leave the rest of the building alone?"
His grin spread and he leaned closer to me, his scent overshadowing my senses. "I own this entire place, Scarlett. Whatever I decide to do to them is none of your business, is that clear?"
"I hate you, Asher. I hate you with every cell in my body!" I seethed through my teeth, but his grin only grew wider.
"We both know that you are lying..." His fingers moved to my chest, slowly making their way over my breasts, searching for my nipple. "Your whole body can't survive without me."
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8.2
For three years, nineteen-year-old Ella Campbell rotted in a freezing psychiatric isolation room.
Her billionaire family didn't visit her once, only pulling her out today to force her to publicly apologize to Ashlyn, the perfect sister who had framed her.
At Ashlyn's glamorous engagement gala, Ella was treated worse than a stray dog and forced to watch her childhood sweetheart propose to her sister.
When Ella showed no jealousy, her brother Ivan dragged her onto a dark balcony and nearly choked her to death.
Her mother didn't even check if Ella was breathing, merely ordering a makeup artist to paint thick concealer over the dark purple handprints on Ella's neck so the family's stock price wouldn't drop.
Standing under the blinding stage lights in a shapeless gray dress, facing three hundred mocking Wall Street executives, Ella was supposed to be the broken, obedient psycho the Campbells needed.
"I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused."
She was supposed to end the apology there and bow to her abusers, but Ella didn't shed a single tear.
"My only regret is that I didn't insist on waiting for the police to arrive that night. I deeply regret that I didn't demand a full, legal toxicology report to prove to everyone exactly what happened."
As the ballroom erupted into suspicious whispers and her paralyzed twin brother finally saw the violent bruises hidden beneath her makeup, Ella's counterattack against the Campbell family officially began.

9.1
I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.
It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.
My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.
In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."
When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.
I was met with a slap from my mother.
Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.
To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.
But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.
"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.
"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."
My blood ran cold.
They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.
They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.
They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.
I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.
"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.
I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war.

9.4
Cruel Capone
9.4
Whitney Rivers, a plastic surgeon who dreams of owning her own practice, crosses paths with Casio Capone. Her life takes a turn in a way she never would have expected. What started as a chance encounter in the busy streets of New York City turns into a whirlwind connection she can't resist.
Until one day, when everything shattered.
An attempt to get to Casio, Whitney is kidnapped by his enemies as leverage. Entering the dark and violent underworld of the Mafia. Whitney comes face to face with coldblooded killers and the brutal reality of Casio's life.
Caught between danger and desire, will Casio and Whitney's connection become stronger, or will it crash and burn? Will it destroy them or make them unstoppable?

7.3
Clara came home from a fourteen-hour board meeting to the sound of a piercing scream in the playroom.
When she rushed in, she found her husband, Chadwick, kneeling on the floor in a panic.
But he wasn't looking at their five-year-old son, Leo, who had a massive bleeding welt on his forehead.
Instead, Chadwick was trembling as he held the nanny's daughter, Autumn, who barely had a microscopic scratch.
"She needs ice. And antibacterial ointment," Chadwick snapped, carrying the nanny's daughter away and leaving his bleeding son behind.
From that moment, the nightmare only escalated.
Chadwick ordered Clara to cook a three-hour meal for the nanny's kid, threw away Leo's favorite toys because Autumn sneezed, and even secretly took the nanny and her daughter on Leo's promised Disney trip.
The final humiliation came at the Met Gala.
Right before their sponsor speech, Chadwick received a frantic call from the nanny claiming Autumn was having a panic attack.
He abandoned Clara in front of hundreds of flashing cameras, sprinting out of the ballroom.
Clara stood completely alone, the humiliation eating through her veins like acid.
She couldn't understand how a father could call the nanny's kid his "little princess" while watching his own son cry.
Why was he treating his own flesh and blood like garbage just to play savior to another woman's child?
Suddenly, the blinding camera flashes were blocked by a massive shadow.
Erasmo Chase, the heir to New York's largest financial dynasty, stepped out of the darkness and shielded her.
"A man like that is unworthy of your grief, Ms. Best," he whispered, pressing a silk handkerchief into her trembling hand.
Looking at the sharp profile of the powerful man beside her, Clara's shock hardened into a lethal, cold fury.
She was going to dump her family's shares, crash the board, and make Chadwick lose absolutely everything.

8.3
Bound by fate, Torn by desire, Forbidden by choice.
Rhyna, a healer omega, never asked for war, or to be taken prisoner. But when the feared Alpha, Conan, drags her into the heart of enemy territory, her world flips upside down.
He claims she is his Luna, destined by a bond she refuses to accept. She is determined to fight, to resist, to survive... but Conan's dominance, power, and the pull of their inexplicable bond test everything she thought she knew about love, loyalty, and herself.
In a world where packs clash and hearts are weapons, can a healer survive the Alpha's desires, and resist the pull of a mate she never wanted?

8.0
For six years, I played the perfect, submissive wife to Wall Street titan Francis Castro. I suffocated my own ambitions to fit into his conservative world.
But while I waited alone at a Michelin restaurant, a news alert popped up. My husband had just dropped millions on an aquamarine diamond necklace for his "muse," Chanelle.
The real nightmare began when I rushed home to find our five-year-old son in severe anaphylactic shock. I frantically called Francis from the ambulance, but he manually rejected my calls. He couldn't leave the bidding war for Chanelle's PR launch.
When he finally arrived at the ER, Chanelle was right beside him, wearing that blinding multi-million-dollar necklace. He didn't ask about our dying son.
"Why weren't you watching him?" he demanded, his voice hard and accusing.
And when my son woke up, hazy from the drugs, he rejected my touch and reached for Chanelle instead. Francis just stood there, praising Chanelle for knowing exactly how to calm him down.
I stared at the three of them looking like a perfect, happy family. Six years of swallowing my pride, only to realize my husband would let our son choke to death just to buy another woman's smile.
The last thread of my heart snapped. I handed him the divorce papers, demanding zero alimony. Then, I drove to a hidden Brooklyn loft, cut off my hair, and unlocked my safe.
It was time to resurrect my true identity—the legendary fashion designer, Ember.J. I am going to burn her empire to the ground.