Hiding a House in the Apocalypse - Chapter 110.1: Debt (1)

“You are my mate…” Leland said with a hoarse voice. “Don't you know what I am doing?”

He looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes, and right then and there, Sophie thought she could understand him. She could feel his overflowing emotions. Was this what they meant by the mate bond?

She could feel so much desire engulfing Leland and she just knew what he wanted.

He wanted her. He wanted to ravage her body and mark her with his love bites, he wanted her to scream his name over, and over, and over again. He wanted to pound her and make love to her like there was no tomorrow.

The man climbed on the bed and kissed her again. He peppered her with kisses from her cheeks, to her lips, then he moved to her collarbone.

Soon, she was moaning softly because of the stimulation. The sounds that escape her lips sounded so sexy in his ears and turned him on so badly.

If he didn't have better self-control, Leland would have already ripped their clothes apart and immediately enter her. However, he held back and tried to stay gentle.

This was only their first night together as real husband and wife. Tonight, he would finally be able to give her so much pleasure that she would want him in her bed every night.

The sex they had the last time was an obligation. It was dry and he only did the bare minimum.

This time though… he would ravage her body and make love to her in ways that only his luna deserved. His stamina was top notch and he could satisfy her all night long.

___________________

BLURB:

The King, or the Alpha?

When she jumps over the academy walls to escape from her bullies, Sophie falls straight into the arms of Nicholas, the kingdom's crown prince with a sweet and sunny disposition. Sparks fly and love blossoms between the poor orphan and the prince.

But... suddenly, Leland, the dangerous new alpha of the most powerful werewolf pack in the kingdom claimed her to be his mate?! Sophie is torn between two men. One calls her his wife, the other claims her as his mate.

The prince is warm and sweet, his love is burning like the sun. The alpha is cold and overbearing, his love is as heavy as the mountain and as cold as the winter.

Which one will Sophie end up with when both sides wage war over blood, hatred, and revenge?

Leland will burn the entire kingdom just to get Sophie and avenge his race. On the other hand, the newly crowned king, Nicholas, strives to drive out the werewolves that the kingdom deemed as monsters... while keeping a dark secret within himself —

He is also a werewolf.

I made a game.

The Super-Dimensional Game has descended upon Blue Star. Everyone can enter the game and obtain a World Fragment, becoming a deity and leading their tribe to conquer all directions, even conquering the alternate world.

Fortunately, Logan, who transmigrated here, has a Drop System. Whether it's him or his subordinates, they can all receive drops after victory.

[Log: Your believers have defeated the wolf pack. Drop: Bond—“Wolf Pack”]

[Log: Your believers have defeated the Sun Elves. Drop: Bloodline—“Child of the Sun”]

……………………………………………………………

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”