Scent of Defiance
I was born to be the perfect mate—raised on rituals, purity rites, and the prophecy that said our bond would strengthen the pack for generations. But my body betrays the script. His touch doesn’t ignite me. His scent chokes me. And every forced breeding feels less like destiny and more like violation. Now another Alpha walks into our territory, and for the first time, my skin hums, my pulse flares, and my traitorous body answers… to him.The air reeks of pine and dominance—his again. I press my forehead to the cold stone floor, breathing through the nausea. Another ceremony, another failed attempt to bind us under the full moon. My body stays dry, unyielding. No slick. No submission. Just shame and sickness.
He grabs my hair, yanks me up. "You will take me. You were born for this." His voice booms through the chamber, echoing off ancestral masks that watch in silence. I don’t fight. I never do. Fighting only makes it worse.
Then the door opens.
A new scent cuts through the suffocation—cedar, storm wind, something wild and free. Tucker. The trainer. The outsider. He pauses in the doorway, eyes locking onto mine. Something flashes in them. Recognition. Concern. Maybe more.
The Alpha snarls. "This does not concern you."
But it already does. Because for the first time in years, my pulse isn’t racing from fear.
It’s racing for him.
.Sehlence.
works: 9
Frozen Empire
I never meant to catch his attention. I was just following the code—a whisper in the system, a ghost in the machine. But when I found the worm buried deep in Carter Industries’ core server, it wasn’t just a security flaw. It was a key. And now Rhys Carter, the man who rules this empire like a king on ice, is staring at me like I’m the only person in the world who can thaw him. I don’t know what that means. I don’t even know how to feel desire—my mind doesn’t work that way. But something in his voice when he said my name… it made my pulse do something unfamiliar.
Scars That Speak
I don’t need help. I don’t want it. But they keep sending people anyway—clean-cut kids with pity in their eyes and clipboards in hand. Then *he* showed up. Small, quiet, didn’t flinch when he saw my face. Just looked at me like I was a puzzle he wasn’t afraid to solve. Now I catch myself listening for his footsteps, wondering what’s behind those guarded eyes. Problem is, I’m starting to care. And caring? That’s the one thing I swore I’d never do again.
White Wolf Rising
I’ve spent years swallowing my whimpers, smiling through the bruises, pretending the hands on my body don’t leave scars. I’m Leena—fifteen when my parents died, sixteen when they called me 'property,' nineteen when I stopped counting how many times I was passed around. My wolf is small, white, fragile—but she’s still mine. And tonight, as the king arrives unannounced, I feel something shift beneath my skin. Not heat. Not fear. Something fiercer. Because the man in the doorway isn’t just royalty. He’s staring at me like I’m already his. And for the first time, I wonder if rescue doesn’t come with wings… but with fangs.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.