
Her Men Of Ruin
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"I'm going to have to f^ck you if you keep this up," he growls. "I'll bend you over and bury my c0ck deep in your needy little pu$$y."
Heaven moans. His words only fuel the fire inside her, and the knowledge of her turning him on makes her rock faster, arching her back more until her cl!t drags harder against his thigh.
>>>
A failed final-year school project. Seven wasted years in a school of dance. An unclear and unstable future. Those mark the start of Heaven's miserable life.
But then a random man comes along with a job offer that she cannot resist-teach his kid and earn an enormous amount.
Heaven accepts the offer. Little does she know this man is Ziason Father, the Alpha of Moon's Wrath pack.
He's infamous for his deviltry, rumored to bathe in blood and feed on it.
Now Heaven is trapped under his dark claws, forced to safeguard his biggest secrets with her life and liberty.
She knows she can never escape him. Even though she tried, she may end up losing her life. Yet, how sure is she that he wouldn't still k!ll her if she stays? Especially with his brothers looming, hellbent on being obstacles to her survival.
Her Men Of Ruin Chapter 1
Yule
city, Yule country.
Yule
National School of Dance.
“Your
project lacks the emotions required for such a heart-friendly piece,
Miss Litotes. Dance that to a person with cardiac arrest and they
could die. You
need to wield passionate and subtle feelings when portraying a
swan-like
character, which is something you do not seem to possess. Stiff
movements are meant for robotic showcases, not ballet or contemporary
dances. You should have learned more about that instead of focusing
on technique. You are dismissed. Next person.”
Eighty,
or less than eighty words, yet they carry such venom that stabs
Heaven’s heart like a blade.
She
bites her lower lips to stop herself from bursting into tears, yet
that doesn’t help as she grabs her bag and hurries out, slamming
the classroom door behind her.
Reaching
her lodge, Heaven tosses her bag aside, tucking out her phone and
chewing the nail of her shaking index finger as she dials her best
friend’s number.
After
several tries, her bestfriend, Lulu, doesn’t pick up, so Heaven
resorts to calling her boyfriend instead.
He
too doesn’t respond. But, thankfully, Lulu calls back.
‘Heaven,
are you alright?’
the girl raps from the other side of the phone. She sounds
breathless, as if running while talking.
Heaven
shakes her head, though Lulu couldn’t see her, bawling her eyes out
as she rants into the phone. “I’m
not okay, Lulu! All my hard work… they… they are for nothing! The
board rejected my project! How am I supposed to cope now?”
‘Hold
on. Is it the one you’ve been working on for months now?’
Lulu says with short breaths again, earning a shriek from Heaven.
“Yes,
Lulu! That’s the one!”
‘Isn’t
it your final year project?’
“It
is! Now I have to repeat a damn year, and I can’t get a job in the
National Dance Company anymore. I can’t even get a job in any top
companies, because I’ll have a red marker on my certificate! This
is so unfair, Lulu! I’ll end up scrambling to survive now!”
‘It’s
alright, Heaven. Can’t you get other jobs? I told you dancing
shouldn’t have been your career—’
‘Lulu,
hang
up.
You don’t have to teach her everything,’
someone mumbles from the other side of the call right before it
disconnects.
Heaven
stares at her screen speechlessly. The person who just interrupted
Lulu sounds too much like Hector, Heaven’s boyfriend. That makes
her uncomfortable, added to the fact that Hector’s not picking up
his call.
Hector
lives just
across the bridge,
so
Heaven quickly hails a cab.
As
she arrives at her boyfriend’s studio
apartment, she calls him again even though she has been doing so the
entire time in the cab.
He
still doesn’t pick up.
Now
she stands on the last step that leads to his door, about to knock
before her hand hangs in the air on hearing faint noises coming from
inside. Curses. Constant body slamming body. Moans and pants.
But
she can’t be too sure.
Heaven
goes ahead to place the knock.
No
response. The noises persist.
She
knocks harder, and the noises suddenly stop.
Then,
after a while, the door opens to reveal Hector standing akimbo and
sweating profusely.
He
looks tired, but the first thing Heaven notices is his dick standing
tall.
“Are
you here to rant again, Heaven?”
he asks boorishly.
Heaven
huffs, her brows creasing with a frown of disbelief as she replies.
“Are
you serious? I’ve been calling you.” She
glances
past him to the room and
finds no one else. But
there’s his laptop on his bed. “Did you put the porn so loud you
couldn’t even hear your phone ringing?”
“I
guess my phone’s tucked away somewhere.” Hector shrugs.
“I
was going to tell you I failed my project.”
“Well,
Lulu told me that already. But why go about telling us? We weren’t
the ones who asked you to choose
dancing as a career.”
“Lulu?”
Heaven asks, her eyes squinting with curiosity as she tries to get
into the house. But Hector slides into her way, casually blocking
her. “Why aren’t you letting me in?” she queries again, about
to force her way in before Lulu steps out from behind the door,
standing naked at Hector’s back.
“Heaven,
hi,” she says nervously, her shoulders tense as she hesitantly
waves at Heaven. “I didn’t expect you’d come, but it’s a good
thing you did.”
Heaven
analyzes the Blonde with a dirty look. “Are you guys doing what I
think you’re doing?”
“Yes?”
Hector chips in, then adds mockingly, “given the fact that we are
in a
‘boring
relationship’.”
Heaven
looks at Lulu with unbelief
streaked on her face. She had told the girl how she was slowly losing
interest in her relationship with Hector. But she thought her
‘bestfriend’
would keep such matters between them.
“That
was a private thought that I trusted you with, Lulu.”
“If
you want to term it as private, you should have come to me. It’s a
matter of you and I, after all,” Hector scoffs. “Well, since the
relationship was uninteresting, why don’t we spice it a little
then? You, Lulu, and I.”
Heaven
huffs. The next second, she turns and walks away, but not without
hearing Lulu calling behind her.
“Come
on, Heaven, don’t be a coward. It’s going to be fun!”
“Leave
her be. Let her go dine with her sordid misery,” Hector spits. “I
don’t need such a bad vibe with me anyway?”
Heaven
looks back a couple of times, hoping her bestfriend would at least
come after her. She couldn’t care less about Hector. She never even
loved him and only tried to force herself to feel normal by being in
a relationship, since she kept feeling like she didn’t belong in
the human world.
But
Lulu… Lulu was like the sister she never had. Lulu was everything
to her, which is why it pains her that she would do such a thing.
It’s
not about her having sex with her boyfriend behind her back. It’s
more of she trying to convince her to have a threesome—even after
seeing how displeased she was about it—knowing well about her
history with men.
Sleeping
with Hector was hard enough, let alone having one more body rubbing
her. It would only remind her of those painful times when two or more
men took her at once. She had just gotten over the trauma of that and
doesn’t want to relive it again.
Now
she is well and truly lonely, and has no one she can rely on.
Heaven
approaches another apartment and sits down on the stairs leading to
the door, still hoping Lulu would come after her. But seconds soon
stretch to minutes, and minutes to hours.
Even
the weather curses her existence with striking lightening and
thundering storm as the earth rumbles, heavy patters of rain
flourishing all over the place and splashing on Heaven, who cares
less about it.
Just
then, a black limousine pulls up in front of the building.
On
her way here, she had noticed this same car following her cab, but it
was the least of her problems then. Now, it’s bothersome.
The
tinted window of the back seat winds down, and Heaven sees who is
being driven—a very unfamiliar face. Had he been stalking her?
Looking
in her direction, the stranger
slides off the pair
of black shades
he wore, revealing the full view of his rectangular,
well-defined face to Heaven.
Still
shocked and unable to move, she watches as he opens his door, slowly
stepping out while pulling free a black umbrella.
He
takes gradual gaits in approaching her. For a moment, Heaven sees him
walking in slow motion, the rain as mere showers of his glory.
She
has never seen a man look so ethereal—not the pure, empyrean kinds
that are dazzling, but the kind that seems like a spectral; the one
crawling into her brains and knitting together with her wits, leaving
her heady and spellbound by such a figure that has the aura of a
devil walking the night.
In
her state of amazement, the stranger stands in front of her, both his
body and his umbrella shielding her from the raindrops that once
lashed at her.
“If
things fall in place now, how would you feel?” he
asks.
At
first, Heaven doesn’t react. She lets the voice sink in. Low-toned.
Velvety. Sounding like an ancient being from the depths of an ocean.
Then,
the next minute, she shudders on realization while jumping
to her feet.
The
stiff
stranger
towers above her. And, despite that she’s gazing up at him, Heaven
can’t grip the actual looks of his face. One thing she notes,
though, is his expression. It
lacks a smile.
Doesn’t
a gentleman’s handbook instruct that a man should smile when
meeting a lady for the first time—at least to strike a feeling of
comfort that could urge her positive response?
Yet,
should she be surprised by that? It’s in the nature of her kind to
shit on politeness, after all.
She
can smell his essence, though it’s not as strong as she read an
Alpha’s would be. Surely, he sensed hers too before approaching
her. Any wolf would recognize another wolf even if it’s in the
human world.
“Happy?”
she responds to his question anyway, shifting
back so that her backside is now pressed against the door behind her.
“But it’s best not to hope.” Her eyes divert to his
left hand that holds the umbrella.
He has no scar on
the back of that hand.
“Even
so, do you believe in the possibility?” the man presses on.
Heaven
shakes her head. “Nope. My life is already ruined. There’s no
mending it, unless I can find a witch who would make the judges
forget what they saw, so I’ll redo my project. But a witch would
kill me on sight.”
The
man lets an echoing laugh roll out of his lungs, giving Heaven chills
for a moment. “Do you really imagine your wolf is growling,
princess? No witch would know your wolf nature unless she tested you
with silver, or checked your healing span.”
Heaven
squints her eyes at him. Is he trying to insinuate that her wolf’s
presence is too weak? Can he really say it out that loud without
considering how it would make her feel?
“But
you do not need a witch for this one,” the stranger continues, “all
you need is a place to stay, a job without certificate, and food to
eat.”
Heaven
huffs. What a nice way to add fuel to fire. “Can you even hear
yourself? Does a job without certificate sound realistic to you?”
“You
have lived too long in the human world, Heaven.” Wait. He knows her
name? “Why not return to the other world and refurbish
your mind on the existence of magic and wonders?”
The
man searches his coat pocket and tucks out a small black card. Pinned
between his index and middle fingers, he thrusts it to Heaven’s
direction.
“I’m
in search of a dancer, specifically a wolf. I watched you move
earlier, and have deemed you capable of teaching my kid,” he
mutters. “She is seven and not problematic. You just need to teach
her dance, and you will have food and a place to stay. Is that
understood?”
Heaven
nods hesitantly before taking the card with slow fingers. She stares
at it as the stranger adds, “I will give you time to think. Call me
with that number when you come to a decision.”
The
man turns to walk away. He had already taken about three steps before
Heaven suddenly realizes something.
“Wait!”
she calls. The stranger obeys instantly, but doesn’t turn back to
look at her. “You know my name. Don’t I get to know yours, at
least?”
Subtle
silence.
Whispering
wind.
Calling
birds.
“Ziason,”
he mumbles, still without turning. “Ziason Father is my name.”
Continue Reading
Her Men Of Ruin of Contents
New Release Novels

8.4
Grace, after three years of silence from a crash that stole her voice and family, finally uttered a hoarse syllable. It was her first sound, a breakthrough she desperately wanted to share with Josiah, her childhood protector. Instead, through a slightly ajar door, she heard his careless chuckle, followed by a sharp, entitled voice.
Alexandria's voice sliced through the air: "Josiah, are you really planning to bring that little mute to the banquet? She's a walking trailer park tragedy. It's embarrassing." Grace froze, waiting for Josiah to defend her. He didn't. Instead, he sighed, calling her "a responsibility" and "a lifeless ghost," then pulled Alexandria closer.
The words were serrated blades. Her silent devotion, her self-erasure for his peace, had made her a punchline. He was relieved she was broken. The bitter realization of his betrayal ignited a cold, white-hot fury.
Wiping away tears, Grace met Josiah, feigning her usual submissive smile, and quietly refused his "hush money." As he walked away without a glance, her inner voice was clear, sharp, and resolute: "I'm done playing your game."

7.3
I was tracing the gold paint on my own tombstone when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.
It was Clayton.
The same man who, five years ago, had left me bleeding out in a ditch because he didn't want to be late for my sister's engagement party.
"Die quietly, Ivy," he had said over the phone before hanging up.
Now, standing over my grave, he dropped his cheap plastic flowers in shock.
"Ivy? You're... we buried you."
They hadn't buried me.
They had buried an empty box to save face, mourning a "troubled" daughter they had actually discarded like broken trash the moment I became a liability.
Clayton's shock quickly turned to that familiar, arrogant anger.
He accused me of faking my death for attention.
He told me I was sick for putting the family through such pain.
He even reached out to grab my arm, intending to drag me back to my father to apologize.
"You're coming with me," he spat. "You owe us an explanation."
But he made a fatal mistake.
He thought he was talking to Ivy Dillard, the soft girl who cried when she skinned her knees.
He didn't notice the town car waiting at the curb, or the man stepping out of it.
Before Clayton's fingers could graze my coat, a hand made of steel caught his wrist.
Collin Richardson, the most feared Capo in Chicago, stepped between us.
"Touch my wife again," Collin whispered, his voice promising violence. "And you lose the hand."
I smiled at the terror draining the color from Clayton's face.
I didn't come back from the dead to explain myself.
I came back to bury them.

8.0
BLURB
She had fought so hard to be able to bear her husband a child for years but all her efforts proved abortive and just when she thought that all her problems were finally over.
She was faced with a brutal betrayal from her husband, taking away her family company, cheating on her and most especially tied her in the marriage.
But everything takes a drastic turn when she realizes the baby she is carrying doesn't belong to her husband, rather a cursed werewolf who could never have a child.
Thrown into the world of the werewolves, Daisy realizes she is more than she thinks, but will she be able to navigate the challenges that awaits her?

8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."

9.7
I was the Luna of the Black Moon pack, happily carrying the Alpha's heir and believing in our Fated Mate bond.
But on a romantic getaway to the mountains, my beloved mate Ryker suddenly pushed me off a cliff.
As I dangled over the abyss, pleading for help, he just sneered and crushed my fingers under his heavy boot.
"Such a shame, my dear Luna."
I survived the plunge but lost my baby in a pool of my own blood.
Lying half-dead in the dark forest, I heard Ryker and his Beta confirming my "accidental" death.
He hadn't just cheated on me. He had orchestrated my murder to officially welcome his Chosen Mate.
He traded my life and our unborn pup for a piece of territory, disgusted by my mother's healing bloodline.
I couldn't understand how the sacred bond of the Moon Goddess could be so easily discarded, or how a father could butcher his own flesh and blood for power.
My love and grief were instantly replaced by a burning, venomous rage.
Fortunately, the legendary Alpha King passed by and saved me from the woods.
Hidden away in an ancestral sanctuary, I opened my laptop and sent a message to a mysterious ally.
"I need to get my revenge."
This time, I was going to make them pay in blood.

7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished.
Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey.
When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled.
In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession.
"If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you."
My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die.
But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career.
They thought I would cower.
But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.











