Ansha Roy

No one has seen him, No one can tell what he looks like, No one can tell if he's human, wolf, dragon, elf, or vampire. We've only heard his very deep, hoarse voice that doesn't sound so humanly. We only know he's a ruthless beast, And that beast is the king of all supernatural creatures -he is King Wymond. He is an abomination -a mistake made by the moon goddess. There are rumors that he is immortal -are there still any immortals in this age? He walks the lands every night and kills any soul that crosses path with him or it, He never lets anyone see him and doesn't attend public meetings. He's always inside his palace, with those two big gates locking him away and isolating him from the world. Weird! How did he end up becoming the king then? Every five years, girls who have come of age (18 years to 25 years), from different species (werewolves, vampires, witches, elves, and dragons) are taken to his palace. It is unclear to us why they are taken there, And we dare not ask why because asking why there is death penalty. And strangely, all the girls taken to the palace always come back alive, but they end up losing their memories of what had happened in there. No one has enough courage to investigate and find out what's going on -investigating is like walking into the valley of death.

"Kane stays unmoving, and I realize he’s barely breathing. I don’t think he needs oxygen to stay alive, so that’s not too surprising, but I can’t’ figure out why he is so still. His hand at my waist is so very close to my breastbone, the longing for him to slide it up only a few inches, to touch me in places no one ever has before, has a gasp leaving my lips. I have to bite down again to keep from moaning, and he hasn’t even kissed me yet." Emory I was born to be the Alpha of my pack, my father's first born daughter. But now... I am here, in the castle of our greatest enemy, the Vampire King. I should hate Kane Alexander, but the more time I spend with him, the more I long for him in ways I cannot understand. I am not here to be his lover, though. I am here to be his feeder, to satisfy his hunger, his thirst for blood. But even before his lips graze my skin the first time, I know I would give myself to him in every way imaginable if only he should ask. Kane I long to taste the wolf shifter, but not her blood, her body... her essence. I want her in every way imaginable. But I'm already betrothed to marry another blood-born vampire, and if I call that off, I have resigned my kingdom to yet another war. There has to be a way to keep Emory Moonraker as my feeder but not claim her in my bed. I just haven't figured it out yet, and every time I look into her jade eyes, I forget everything and everyone but her. But I have enemies, and every moment she spends here in my home, Castle Graystone, she's in danger. I can protect her, but at what cost? Am I willing to risk everything to make her mine? Or should I put my duty to my kingdom first? The Vampire King's Feeder is a romance with vampires and wolf shifters. It is for mature readers only.

Things didn’t look great, not only did I lose the last piece of my life as I stared down at the foreclosure notice on my mothers house. I now had to face the realisation she will probably never come home. Watching someone wither away, knowing they were once full of life, once the biggest influence in your life and now they were reduced to skin and bone, bedsores, and a machine breathing for them as the life slowly drained out of them, bloody s*ck*d. I thought for sure that would be the hardest day of my life when they rang me to tell me there was nothing else they could do for her. Yet I still held out hope, held onto the possibility no matter how slim it was that she would return to me, just wake up like nothing happened. Scrunching up the foreclosure notice, I toss it in the bin before adjusting the box tucked under my arm. I walked to the trunk of my car dropping my mothers alcohol stash in it. I couldn’t leave it in the storage locker. No flammable liquids but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out either, mum loved a drink. I hated that she was a drunk but now I would give anything to see her with her drink in her hand while laughing and telling me stories. Sighing, I close the trunk and hop in my car looking at my childhood home one last time before I say goodbye to this part of my life. I was truly on my own.

"You can't be weak, wife. You now have three husbands to please. Tonight's the night we claim you. You can't let a simple wedding tire you, for our nuptial night holds trials far more demanding." Ezra whispered huskily, tucking my hair behind my ear. -- "Oh god!” I cried. "Not god, baby. We are your demons," Ezra growled, pounding faster. -- "Call my name, Xanthea,” Asher groaned and a tight flutter erupted in my belly. -- "I can't… I can't take this… anymore…" And then he hit a spot, and he kept hitting it again and again with every thrust. Sparks charged throughout my body like the lightning cracking in the stormy sky again and again until it was too much to hold back, too hard to… resist. *** Xanthea Plath, an illegitimate child of the Alpha of Virgo pack, was an omega and omegas weren't allowed to dream, yet she never stopped dreaming. She wanted to be a doctor just like her mother but the luna of the pack, her stepmother would break her physically and mentally and stop at nothing to crush all her dreams. Xanthea had still found a way though all the abuse her steps put her through. But one day her world came crashing down right before her entrance in a medical college when she found out that she was being offered as a bride to the ruthless triplet alphas also known as the demon lords of the Infernal pack of the underworld. Xanthea had heard the horrifying stories of several suitors who had come before her, all of whom had met a gruesome end. Dark Reverse Harem Romance with 18+ explicit content. Readers discretion advised.

Elena tried to get out of his grip but he was too heavy for her. “I am married.” She screamed. “You are not, not anymore.” He spoke as he bit her neck to the extent that she felt as if he will snatch out her flesh. “Please, let me go.” “That husband of yours lost you on a bet. I am the winner, and you belong to me. Just me.” She knew what Aslan was saying was right. John had indeed lost her on a poker table as if she was nothing but another of his belongings just like his watch or an old table. She pushed his chest with all her might but failed. It was her end. In this world where women were progressing, she was traded off on a poker table. She smirked at her fate. She was nothing. Nothing, but a lost bet.