The Blind Alpha's Desire
Lyra, an orphaned heir of the crescent pack has lived for years with her father's former beta and her cousin Emery, feeling unsafe and unwanted. On the night she turns eighteen, she hopes to finally mate with Adrian, the wolf she loves.
Instead, Lyra is rejected by Adrian, the Beta of the Nightfang pack and twin brother to Alpha Triston. Lyra is also poisoned by her cousin Emery and dies.
Lyra's wakes up reborn as a moon goddess. She stumbles on Triston, the blind Alpha lycan of the Nightfang pack, who claims her as his fated mate. Lyra becomes Tristons Luna and passionate lover.
But the twin who broke her heart returns to her seeking her love, so that together, they may kill Alpha Triston and rule over Nightfang and Crescent. Will Lyra choose her first love or her true mate.
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Chapter 1
(Lyra's POV)
"Woohoo...finally!"
I say while I spin on my heel with my heart beating so fast.
I hear tonight, Adrian will get to choose a mate from the Crescent pack.
I have been waiting eighteen years for tonight. Adrian will finally claim me as his fated mate. He will be mine, and I will be his. My Adrian. My first love.
The door opens.
It's Adrian.
Twin brother to Alpha Triston of the Nightfang pack, he barely talks about him.
I met Adrian when I was sixteen. A servant in the Crescent royal garden.
He just finished from a meeting with the Alpha of Crescent. We talked and it felt like we had known ourselves all our lives.
We met secretly every other day. With each conversation, our bond became stronger.
Two things I'm very sure of? Adrian's love for me, and Adrian's love for power.
Sometimes, I would be confused as to which he loved most. My heart would say me of course.
Adrian would whisper sweet promises to me of how when I turned eighteen, he would claim me his mate and we wouldn't need to hide anymore.
And finally, the day had come.
He walks into the room.
He stands tall. His shoulders so broad. His sleek brown hair so thick, his pink lip looks so kissable...
"urghhh".
He looks more irresistible than ever and every glance pulls me in. I can already feel my water park dripping.
He steps closer towards me. I let my eyes linger on him, long enough to say...
"You're late"
He lifts his brow. "No, I'm not. You couldn't wait, could you?"
He holds my hands, then my waist. He pulls me in, closer.
"My Lyra. I have dreamt of this very moment."
He says as his hands gently find its way around my ass.
My gaze flickers.
He leans in. His lips brushing my ear.
"No one's here. Not yet. The elders won't arrive for another hour. We have time."
The Crescent elders are the silent power behind the throne.
Ancient wolves whose words carry so much wisdom and power.
I always bow my head to stay invisible when they passed.
I look at Adrian.
"Time for what?" I knew, of course. My body already sang in response.
"To make you mine" he says, as his fingers begin to loosen the ties of my simple linen dress.
"I'm scared Adrian, what if someone...?"
'No one will." His voice is a promise, a command.
"They're all preparing, so I can claim you my fated mate."
My dress loses. Sliding from my shoulders leaving me bare to my waist.
The night air kisses my skin.
I look at Adrian but our eyes don't meet. His gaze is on my body. His hands, rough but tender, cupped my breasts.
I gasp softly as his thumbs grazed my nipples, already hard and craving for his touch.
I feel my knees shaking, and I sway into him, needing his support.
"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
"So incredibly beautiful."
He lowers his head, tracing a path down my neck with his tongue.
His breath is hot against my skin.
I arch into him, my fingers tangling in his thick, soft hair.
"Adrian..."
My voice is a desperate plea.
He lifts up his head.
Then he kisses me, deeply, fiercely, his tongue plunging into my mouth.
I meet him with equal fervor, my tongue intertwines with his.
He breaks the kiss.
His lips trails down my throat, across my chest, pausing to suckle at one nipple. I cry out with a soft sensation of pleasure.
His mouth is hot and wet. His tongue swirling around my areola. He moves to my other breast.
My body responds.
I am wet.
So incredibly wet.
"You're ready for me, aren't you, little wolf?"
he rasps softly while he loses the remaining ties of my dress.
Completely naked, I feel exposed, yet cherished.
This is my first time and I have never felt this way before.
He removes his own clothes with practiced ease. His body lean and muscled, is a work of art in the moon light.
The hard planes of his chest, the tautness of his stomach, the thick bulge between his legs took my breath away.
He pulls me back into his arms. His hips against mine, my breast against his chest. His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass, lifting me up slightly.
I wrap my legs around his waist, my inner thighs brushing against his erection.
"Aauuuhhh!" I whimper softly.
He walks me backwards and lays me down gently on the ancient oak.
His hands slide between my legs, his fingers finding the slick entrance to my core. He strokes, teasing, circling.
My hips involuntarily thrust forward.
"Adrian, please..."
His fingers delve deeper, finding my clit, circling it, flicking it.
"uuuuuuhhhhhhhhh!" I moan as pleasure spreads through me.
My legs spread wider.
"You taste so sweet," he whispers, his finger brings some of my wetness to his lips. His hard cock presses against my slick opening.
"It's...my first time."
He pauses, his eyes soften slightly.
"I know, my love." He leans down and kisses me tenderly.
"I'll be gentle. Just breathe."
He pushes in slowly,
carefully.
I feel a stinging pain and I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
"Shh, it's alright," he whispers softly.
He waited, letting me adjust, his body still, his breath mingling with mine.
The pain subsides; I feel a stretching fullness, a delicious pleasure.
"You're so tight," he says as he begins to move again.
He deliberately sticks his cock deeper.
He pulls back almost entirely, and then pushes forward again, a slow, rhythmic motion building a new kind of pleasure.
Our bodies melt together as he picks up the pace. Each stroke is more insistent and powerful.
"Mmmmmmmm, right there." I moan.
"Look at me, Lyra" he commanded.
I meet his gaze. He drives into me, again and again, deeper, faster. My climax hit me like a tidal wave.
"Uuhh hgrrr..." he groans as he plunges into me one last time, spilling his sperm deep inside me.
He collapses on me, his body shaking with the force of his release.
My body still thrummed, I feel utterly complete, utterly his.
Our eyes meet once again, both our faces wearing soft smiles, dripping in pleasurable sweat.
"Mine," I whisper into his ears, waiting for his response. But he keeps silent.
He says nothing...
"The elders and pack are waiting Adrian; we need to go back. It's time for you to claim me as your fated ma..."
I freeze. I hear footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Someone's coming...
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7.1
The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together."
7.9
Viewer Discretion Advised: This sultry collection plunges into raw, unbridled passion, shadowy romance, and the intoxicating grip of dominance, obsession, and carnal temptation. Crafted for mature audiences, it teases the edges of taboo entanglements, feverish ecstasy, and the razor-thin boundary between restraint and total, shuddering surrender.
In Dangerous Desires, immerse yourself in a realm where lust overrides reason and pulses thunder on the brink of ecstasy and devastation. Each tale strips bare a new facet of craving-where adversaries melt into entangled lovers, hidden truths threaten to shatter kingdoms of control, and erotic hunger flares in the most forbidden corners.
From dominant CEOs and eager assistants locked in charged, sweat-slicked power plays, to tycoons and subordinates blurring the lines of authority with breathless, illicit touches, every clash throbs with electric tension. Foes prowl like flame to tinder, sparking an unstoppable blaze of chemistry that demands skin-on-skin surrender.
Venturing deeper into the forbidden, twilight beckons with supernatural seduction-enigmatic lovers, eternal seducers, and ethereal entities lure mortals into bonds that tangle terror with throbbing arousal. In these realms, desire doesn't merely stir-it devours, leaving bodies quivering and souls utterly claimed.
Each story in this anthology throbs with peril, allure, and the exquisite rush of yielding to the forbidden ache-one that shouldn't ignite, but consumes without mercy.
8.4
My mate, Alpha Santino, brought another woman into our home. She was a pregnant Omega, the widow of his fallen Beta, and he swore to protect her above all others.
He gave her my seat of honor, left our bed cold each night to soothe her feigned nightmares, and ignored me completely. I was the Luna of the Blackstone Pack, but I was becoming a ghost in my own life.
The final betrayal happened in my own bedroom. She stood over my vanity and deliberately shattered my mother's sacred moonstone necklace, the last piece of my family I had left.
When Santino burst in, he didn't see my heartbreak. He saw only her fake tears.
"What did you do to her?!" he roared, his voice laced with the Alpha's Command, a sacred power he used to crush my will.
Then, for her, he did the unforgivable. He raised his hand and struck me, his mate.
In that instant, the love I had desperately clung to turned to ice. The man I had sworn my life to had not only betrayed me but had defiled the sacred bond the Goddess herself had blessed.
As the pain of his betrayal ripped through me, something ancient and powerful awakened in my blood. I rose to my feet and spoke the words that would destroy his world and begin mine.
"I, Alessia Bianchi, reject you, Santino Moretti, as my mate."
7.4
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Come and discover this city, its inhabitants, and its ancient stories, amidst a tale of pleasure, lust, and tales that reveal the mysterious teachers who hide their secrets.
The question is: Are they really human or vampires?
This is the world where the dead, vampires, and witch tales intertwine in this hidden city full of mysteries from the past, amidst a life full of pleasure and lust.
In the midst of a mundane beginning, the girl was betrayed. Instead of Samantha finding solitude and suffering, she discovered a world of luxury, with her saviors, her teachers of pleasure, fantastic tales, legends of passion, shrouded in the supernatural. They embark on a limitless adventure, with sex, pleasure, and passion, which are always shrouded in fantastic power, in the world of passion and debauchery.
Lovecraft is a city that never sleeps. Built upon ancient ruins and fueled by centuries of secrets, it is known as the City of Sins, where pleasure and danger walk hand in hand. Its narrow streets, illuminated by red lanterns and eternal shadows, are the stage for encounters that defy reason: reclusive vampires hiding in decaying mansions, werewolves roaming under the full moon, witches whispering spells in hidden cafes, and mobsters controlling the underworld with iron fists and passionate hearts.
At the heart of the city, the Lost Canvas-a secret gallery-holds living portraits of forbidden loves and blood pacts. Each painting is a story, each brushstroke a memory of encounters that have marked generations. It is there that the handsome vampire Adrian, reclusive and mysterious, observes the world without ever fully surrendering. His life is a mosaic of interrupted passions, of glances that never turned into words, of promises lost in the night. But Lovecraft doesn't allow anyone to remain invisible for long.
Between the luxurious salons of socialites, the secret clubs of businessmen, and the alleys where supernatural mafias seal their pacts, the city pulsates with stories of desire and magic. Each encounter is brief but intense: a stolen kiss on a Gothic staircase, a forbidden dance in a hall lit by black candles, a whispered conversation on a ghost train that crosses the city at three in the morning. Lovecraft is made of these instants-moments that seem small, but carry the weight of eternities.
The city's inhabitants coexist with the mundane and the supernatural as if they were part of the same fabric. Businessmen negotiate with vampires, artists are inspired by fairies and elves, mobsters share territories with werewolves. It's a metropolis where power is measured not only in money, but also in spells, secrets, and seduction. Terror is subtle, almost elegant, manifesting itself in lingering gazes, in silences that conceal more than they reveal, in pacts that are never written, but always fulfilled.
Is a collection of stories that reveal Lovecraft's strengths: his ability to transform the everyday into magic, to make love a danger, and sin a promise. It is a city of wonders and dreams, of obscure encounters and ardent desires, where every corner holds a story and every shadow is an invitation. Lovecraft is not just a setting-he is a character, a lover and accomplice of all who dare to live in his eternal night.
8.7
I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts!
9.0
Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining.
Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her.
She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip.
And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them.
Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death.
"Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free."
"If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males."
To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her.
She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her.
She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind.
But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic.
She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time.
Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield.