"Cry, Mermaid!" a sharp lash sliced into my back, forcing a yelp from my lips. Screams and sobs surrounded me on all sides, but no one would save me. Strong hands caught me beneath my arms and yanked me from the water. It was time for Tail Cut. The operation lasted hours. I felt every last slice of their blades, every new tendon sewn into my muscles and nail hammered into my bones. I screamed. I begged. I begged for them to stop, for them to kill me, just ended the pain. --- I have a secret, I am a mermaid. I should live in the ocean, but my tail was cut and I only owned legs. After escaping to Asterion, I hid my identity. I thought I could finally live a peaceful life, until that day I met the famous bad boy, the future Alpha, Caspian. --- I felt a strange prickling on the back of my neck. I spun around just in time to see Caspian prowling towards me through the darkened wings, his blue eyes positively glowing. Sharp white teeth flashed as Caspian's lips unfurled into a lethal grin, "Hello Mate."
Viviane's POV
"Cry, Mermaid!" a sharp lash slices into my back, forcing a yelp from my lips.
Screams and sobs surround me on all sides, children crying out for someone, anyone to save them. Their small voices crack and break, a cacophony of squeals and squawks echoing around the vaulted chamber. I wish they would stop. No one is ever going to rescue us, and their constant begging only eggs on the Pearl Reapers.
The lashes fall harder, the shrieks grow louder, and pearls fall like rain into the water around us.
"That's it, harder!" The head Reaper praises his men. "Give them more!"
We give nicknames to all the Reapers. We know little about them, other than that they belong to the Bloodstone pack. We've never seen them in their wolf forms, so we name them based on their human appearances.
We call the head reaper Cyclops – christened thus for the jagged scar running through his left eye socket; his sight solely dependent on his right eye. Unfortunately his aim is no less precise for the disability.
His whip cracks through the air, carving crimson fissures into my back one after the other. Tears stream down my cheeks and I howl with pain. As they drip from my face my tears transform into lustrous white orbs, so solid they splash into the murky red water.
I know water is supposed to be clear and blue, but nothing here is as it should be. Each morning the wolves pump fresh saltwater into our tank, giving us a few moments of blissful peace in the element for which we were born. Within an hour, so much blood and bodily fluid has leaked into the pool that it becomes unrecognizable; dirty and diluted.
My tail rests against the hard white tiles lining the tank floor. The chilly pool is very shallow, preventing even the youngest children from submerging far enough to escape the Reapers.
My friend Isla bobs toward me, wrapping me in a hug as we watch the little ones around us wail pitifully. It wasn't so long ago that Isla and I were in their position, but as the last generation dwindled away beneath the surgeon's blades, we slowly took their places. Soon we too will leave, either for land or the grave.
"It can't be much longer, Viviane." Isla whispers. "You turned thirteen last week."
"I know." I don't need reminding. Mermaids are only allowed to live in the aquatic farms until they are old enough to undergo The Cut, at which point they are taken from the blood sea – never to be seen again.
Many don't survive the operation; the blood loss alone is lethal. The recovery is worse. After the doctors complete their Frankensteinish reconfiguration of precious bone and muscle, eviscerating our tails and replacing them with legs, we will be taken from the only place we've ever known.
Survivors of The Cut are transferred to the land farms. They must learn to survive in a new body, never forgetting the feel of their tail, never feeling whole without the water.
"Are you afraid?" Isla asks softly. She is a few months younger than I, and her heart has always been more tender than my own. I want to comfort her, to lie and pretend to be brave, but honesty is sacrosanct here. The only thing any of us have is each other; that bond cannot be betrayed.
"Of course I am." I admit, another tear escaping.
Reapers in training, young wolves aspiring to join the ranks of slave drivers, drag fine seives through the water around us, collecting the pearls stolen from our bodies. The tears are harder to produce the longer we stay in captivity; many young mermaids cry themselves blind or lose the ability to heal their wounds after so many years of constant violence.
"Maybe you'll survive." Isla offers hopefully. "Maybe we both will. We can go to the land farms together, find our families."
I smile weakly and nod, tucking my head down as the strikes continue to fall. The idea is soothing, but we all know it will never come to pass.
There is but one law in our world: beauty from pain.
We are born in pain. We live in pain. And we die in pain.
That is the only guarantee we have in this wretched world.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Mermaids were supposed to be blessed above all others, the personification of all that is mysterious and beautiful in the sea. When the world was new the gods bound my people to the water, just as they bound shifters to the land. We were never meant to leave the shore, but fate had other ideas.
For centuries mermaids were considered sacred – untouchable. It only took one man, one man brave and foolish enough to break the laws of nature, to show the world that harming us would not incur some terrible celestial vengeance. When it became clear that only wealth and prosperity would follow a mermaid's capture, life as we knew it ended.
Our greatest gift became our greatest curse. We were stolen from the sea one by one, until all the magic was drained from the oceans: There would be no more pearls to harvest from the sandy seabeds; no more underwater waterfalls to explore; no more luminous creatures to guide fishermen safely through the dark or scatter glowing particles across distant beaches.
When the shifters descended we discovered the Gods' failings. In awarding us so much beauty, they did not leave enough room for strength. We were defenseless against the shifters' power and technology, incapable of challenging their physical dominance.
They herded us into aquatic farms, crude tanks of saltwater where they could raise us like livestock ravenous for the pearls our tears become when parted from our bodies. The pearl-farming industry exploded overnight, and mermaids went from hallowed ocean guardians to slaves, destined to live out their miserable existences beneath the crack of leather whips.
The doors situated at the far end of the room squeak open, and a trio of Harbingers enter. Unlike the Pearl Reapers, the Harbingers only appear if someone is going to be taken for The Cut. They are ordinary looking men, but their presence sends terror through every mermaid in the false sea.
"No." Isla cries, crushing me to her in a panic, "No, no, no."
We all know they are coming for me. I am the oldest in the tank now. I rub Isla's back in soothing circles. "It's okay." I lie, "It'll be okay."
"I can't stay here without you!" She whimpers.
"Yes you can." I promise, "One day we'll be together again."
Strong hands catch me beneath my arms and yank me from the water, and Isla sobs as we're ribbed away from each other. I reach for her in vain, much too far away now to hold her one last time.
I see the other children watching me with wide eyes as I'm dragged away. Every muscle in my body wants to fight, but I don't want to make it worse for them, I don't want them to fear the inevitable any more than they have to. I try to remain still, but emotion chokes me and tears clatter to the ground around me like a trail of opalescent breadcrumbs.
Being out of the water feels strange and wrong. Once out of sight of the pool, I wriggle in my captor's arms, earning a sharp smack and an order to be still. I'm carted through white-walled hallways smelling of chemicals, silently praying for my life.
When we finally reach the operating room I'm dropped onto a metal slab, my arms and tail tied down with thick nylon straps. I jerk against the restraints reflexively, fear spiking my pulse now that this moment has finally arrived. Whatever happens on the other side, I know excruciating pain must come first.
Doctors in white coats and face masks loom above me, silent and foreboding. A blinding yellow light is switched on as medieval looking metal tools are laid out on a tray next to me. A young nurse in green scrubs presses a gag to my lips. I panic, refusing to take it, but the woman clamps her fingers on either side of my jaw and forces it in.
The tears, so hard to summon in the tank amidst constant assault, come freely now. Pearls clatter to the floor around me, and I'm certain the surgeons are smiling behind their masks.
The world goes fuzzy around the edges as they raise their scalpels, and my muscles tense in anticipation for the pain. I feel the blades rest against my scales a second before they push in, the pressure immediately followed by pure agony.
I scream into the gag as blood gushes out of me. Pain and powerlessness are the only things I've ever known – but this is something else entirely. This is excruciating beyond description. It doesn't feel as if they are cutting my body but my soul itself.
The scalpels are relentless, and the metallic scent of blood fills the room. My head feels light and fuzzy, but I'm not sure if it's the pain or blood loss.
I scream until I cannot scream anymore, until my voice is a hoarse whisper behind my gag. I beg for them to stop, for them to kill me, just end the pain.
My muffled pleas fall on deaf ears. The surgeons continue to rip me apart, and as the tears continue to fall from my eyes, I see one of the nurses bend down to retrieve something from the floor. The doctors pause for a moment, though there is no relief from the pain. My eyes follow theirs to the nurse's gloved hand, now hovering above me.
A blood red pearl sits in her palm, and a roomful of gleaming, greedy eyes land on my face.
They are the last things I see before the world goes black.
He’s the alpha king, my crush, my guardian. And he’s 20 years older than me. ** “How old are you?” “T-Twenty,” I bit my lower lip, stuttering on the lie. “I’m an adult.” I trembled but turned my head, allowing him to drag his nose along my neck and breathe in my scent. I didn’t know what I smelled like to him. Did I smell like I was lying? I held still. He shifted just a bit, seemingly retreating, and I flung my arms around his neck, holding him down. “Please, Alpha King,” I said. My voice trembled even as I tried to sound sultry. “I’m… sure I can please you.” “Do you know what happens when you lie to the Alpha King, little girl?” He knew. I should have known that he would know I wasn’t twenty. “You seem so deliberate, but I’m not interested in your offer. How about we play a game?” “A-A game?” He narrowed his eyes and gave me a slow, cruel smile. “If you win, I’ll grant you sanctuary.” My eyes widened with a spark of hope. “But if you lose….”
Bastien marries me only for duty. I reject him and leave for good by faking my death. Yet he goes crazy looking for me. He says he loves me when we meet again. No! I don't buy it. I can't let him steal my child! ** "She's not yours!" The front door was locked and deadbolted, but it only takes Bastien and his Betas a moment to break past those defenses. As Bastien towers in the doorway, his silver eyes glowing with barely contained fury, I realize it's all over. Everything I've worked for these past three years is already lost; every tear I've shed and sacrifice I've made has all been for nothing. I come to stand in front of my ex-husband. Goddess I’d forgotten how handsome he is; how tall. It doesn’t feel right to be so near him without our bodies touching; it takes all my strength not to reach out to him. “Hello Bastien.” Whatever he was expecting, it clearly wasn’t this. His silver eyes stop their hungry head-to-toe scan of my body, settling on my face and blinking in surprise. I can see the gears turning in his head, piecing together the puzzle of my presence here and replacing shock with confusion and anger. “Is that really all you have to say to me?” I cock my head to the side. “What would you have me say?” “I thought you were dead!” He barks, making my wolf tuck her tail between her legs. Unlike my wolf, I have more than enough bad memories and regrets to withstand his ire. “Oh I’m sorry, did my funeral get in the way of your wedding plans?”
God forbid black and grey-furred werewolves walked amongst the others. As royals, the King and Queen had fur white as snow. The noblemen, their fur was either silver or gold. The commoner’s fur was red or brown. Then there was me, Deonna, fur as black as coal. Marlon Roessler was the most honored nobleman, master of the Roessler family, and the only one capable of competing with the King himself. He spent his life thinking that dark-furred wolves were uncleansed, uneducated, bottomless creatures. I was a dirtball wolf slave, and I was meant to be repulsed by him. Yet his wolf wouldn’t let him be disgusted; his wolf wanted me, as his MATE. God must want to kill me faster to make me his mate, especially we have sex after a drug accident. But after As the weeks went on, it seemed as though my relationship with Marlon has only grown more intense. He came into my room only to have sex again and again. A dirty black sex slave. That is what I am. Until he said, he was mesmerized by me.
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
After three years of loveless marriage, Kira was slapped with divorce papers. She has shown him her unrequited love throughout her entire marriage with him, but he decided to turn blind eyes all because of his lover. Distraught and heartbroken, Kira choose to sign the divorce papers with bitter heart. But then and there, she promised herself that when she's back, he will come crawling to her, but she will make him pay for hurting her. Join Kira as she transform to a wealthy heiress and soared as the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire, a remarkable healer and make her ex-husband pay!
"Sign the divorce papers and get out!" Leanna got married to pay a debt, but she was betrayed by her husband and shunned by her in-laws. Seeing that her efforts were in vain, she agreed to divorce and claimed her half of the properties. With her purse plump from the settlement, Leanna enjoyed her newfound freedom. The constant harassment from her ex's mistress never fazed her. She took back her identities as top hacker, champion racer, medical professor, and renowned jewelry designer. Then someone discovered her secret. Matthew smiled. "Will you have me as your next husband?"