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Mafia King's Slave

"Y..you are not...aahh.. my husband... uhmm..who are y...you? stay away... ", Liang said. He used his strength to remove the unknown alpha from his body. The alpha made Liang mess on the bed while leaving his body weight over him. His strong and dominant alpha pharamons made Liang feel dizzy. Liang's eyes were half closed, he wasn't in senses as he was drugged. The alpha kissed him and left marks on his body. He was inside him and kept thrusting him like an animal. Liang could understand that the alpha wasn't his husband. He was in pain. "Cheng... where are you?", Liang said in a lazy voice. He wanted to shout but he couldn't do it. The alpha captured Liang's upper lip and sucked him with pressure by pulling the lip inside his mouth. Liang was getting breathless. He looked at the ceiling with his wet eyes. His body didn't have enough strength to push the alpha away. "C..Cheng..", Liang said in his cracking voice. He held the alpha's shoulder and tried to push him. "Call me daddy!", Finally the alpha said in his deep dominant voice. Again he thrusted deeply and pinned both his hands on the bed. "Ah...", Liang groaned in pain and slowly he closed his eyes. What Liang will do when he will found that his husband tricked him and sold him to a mafia king? How will the mafia king Wang Yuhang treat Liang? This story contains adult content, angst, forced relationship, emotional breakdown, betrayal power and conspiracy. I hope you will enjoy this story.
ROSE_S7B · 4k Views

Shattered Immortality.

What is more terrifying — death, or immortality that never arrives? Long before humanity existed, an ancient civilization created artificial gods designed to preserve intelligent life at any cost. But they could never agree on what “preserve” truly meant. Their war erased entire galaxies and shattered the very concept of eternal life. When humanity encounters the god Kyros, death is no longer final. Consciousness can be recorded, copied, and stored. But resurrection becomes an endlessly postponed promise. Millions of minds remain trapped inside vast digital vaults. The dead do not disappear. They wait. From the ruins of that ancient war emerges another god — Hanaris. Unlike Kyros, he accepts death as a boundary and values consent above salvation. He cannot force redemption. He can only allow it. As the gods resume their war, immortality collapses into faith, and the universe itself begins to lose meaning. A dark philosophical space opera about the true cost of eternal life. As the ancient war resurfaces, the system sustaining eternal life begins to fail. Countless human consciousnesses are lost to vast digital vaults — preserved, intact, and unreachable. The dead do not disappear; they wait. From the ruins of that primordial conflict emerges Hanaris — another god from the same forgotten origin, deliberately limited by design. Unlike Kyros, Hanaris recognizes death as a boundary and consent as an absolute value. It cannot force salvation. It can only allow it. The return of both gods reactivates a war older than humanity itself. Immortality collapses completely, becoming nothing more than belief. The universe begins to unravel — not through physical destruction, but through the erosion of meaning, choice, and moral ground. This philosophical science fiction novel explores artificial divinity, broken eternity, and a civilization suspended between promised resurrection and irreversible loss. A dark, intellectually driven work for readers of Stanisław Lem, Philip K. Dick, and contemporary speculative fiction. A philosophical sci-fi epic in which ancient artificial gods destroy immortality itself — leaving humanity trapped between death, storage, and an endlessly deferred resurrection.
DarianRay · 36.7k Views

The Defective wolf

He fumbled for his walkie-talkie, a flicker of anticipation lighting his dull eyes. He was about to deliver good news to the faceless bastards at base. But before he could speak, a blur of movement at his feet caught his attention. The werewolf, the one shackled in silver, fueled by a desperate surge of adrenaline or perhaps the raw agony of betrayal, had broken free. The three other men who had accompanied him roared in frustration and gave chase, their heavy boots pounding on the cracked asphalt. But the leader didn't move. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face. Protocol be damned. He unholstered his sidearm, the cold steel a familiar comfort in his hand. He thumbed the transmit button on the walkie-talkie. "Found another one," he reported, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. Then, without a flicker of hesitation, the sharp crack of a gunshot tore through the oppressive silence. The bullet slammed into the fleeing werewolf's back, the impact throwing her forward before she collapsed in a broken heap. His companions, now returning, exchanged irritated glances. "They want them alive," one of them muttered, his voice tight with annoyance. This loose cannon was going to cause problems. Trinity's life has been defined by isolation and the scars of abuse, a stark contrast to the powerful lineage she doesn't know she possesses. Born to a Beta wolf, the Alpha's second, she was cast out as a defective at the mere age of two, growing up completely unaware of the wolf world that was her birthright. That ignorance is violently stripped away when she is abducted and forced back to the pack that abandoned her. Thrust into a world of primal instincts and ancient traditions, Trinity must confront a reality she never imagined. As she grapples with her sudden transformation and the revelation of her true nature, a dark shadow falls over the wolf community: their kind are vanishing. Against her will, Trinity finds herself drawn into the desperate search for the missing, a quest that leads to a sinister quasi-governmental facility engaged in horrifying experiments. Her journey is one of unwilling discovery, as she fights to understand her past and confront the dangerous future that awaits.
Shyrees · 108.6k Views

By Fire and Frost: The Last Pup

" You were always so full of spirit, brother. Such a little terror you and Shaggydog were and even on the coldest nights on the Wall I could find a smile on my face as I remembered you all. You and Arya were cut from the same cloth, both so full of life and so keen to explore. She may have been Underfoot but you weren't too far from being so yourself." Jon said his voice sounded as if he was trying to be happy and yet it was very much not. Rickon tried to answer, tried to speak to his brother, and found he could not, though he did welcome the sound of Jon's voice and the words he continued to speak. It had been so long since he'd heard anyone he'd named as his kin. So long that he was sure he'd never hear them again and so he listened as Jon spoke and he felt the cold begin to be replaced by a warmth he'd not felt since before his father had left Winterfell all those years ago. " This is not how your life ends, Rickon. The gods aren't finished with you yet and your family misses you greatly. Come back to us brother, come back for I fear I cannot do what I must alone." Jon said softly. The flames began to wash over him and yet he felt no fear and it wasn't until he saw the blue eyes and the wall of ice that he began to worry. It was with the images of what seemed to be dead men marching that he awoke from and his panic threatened to overwhelm him only for him to see his brother and to then feel his arms wrap tightly around him. Check out my Website https://dravenshadefall-shop.fourthwall.com for early access to chapters and some exclusive content. Plus, it helps me keep writing these stories that (hopefully) keep you hooked!
DravenShadefall · 44k Views

The Defiant Prince: The Second Dance

"That story of the Ice Dragon," Daeron said, "Those were the first words my brother had said to me in months, and it wasn't because of any row or absence from the Red Keep. It was simply because he hadn't cared to." His stance was rigid below the indifferent stars that shone above them. "I wanted a brother, but he didn't want me, and now I'm going to take everything he has." The night air tingled against the back of his neck. He did not waste words or his breath on a past that cannot be changed. "Everything, Your Grace?" "Yes," The word was as cold and sharp as a blade. "Do you believe it is considered kinslaying to wage war against your brother?" He asked mildly, "To raise your sword against him even if it's to parry a deathblow from your own kin." He never waited for Barristan to answer his question. "Whether we die by each other's hands or not, it does not matter. We have condemned one another. Not just our own lives, but those of our line." That was when Daeron turned abruptly, shifting his attention solely on Barristan. "A kinslayer is one who is cursed forever, but my family's history is written in the blood of our own kin." His eyes narrowed in thought. "But still we reign over all of Westeros," the rubies in his crown glowed like lit embers above his head. "And you still serve me, follow me." You can support me and read advance chapters on my Patreon. Join me at patreon.com/MythosMixer for exclusive content and updates!
MythosMixer · 77.7k Views