Bound By Contract To The Beast Warlord
I woke up in a freezing, desolate wasteland, my body weak and covered in sores. A mechanical voice in my head informed me that I was a defective rabbit-mutant, and if I didn't conceive within twenty-four hours, I would die permanently.
The terror was suffocating, but the system left me no choice. To survive the brutal cold and the decay of my own heartbeat, I had to force a pregnancy with a stranger.
I stumbled through the snow, my fingers turning blue, until I found a massive, wounded Arctic Fox-mutant in a dark cave. He was a Tier-9 predator, dying and radiating the exact heat I needed to stay alive. I threw away my dignity, crawling into his fur to merge our energies, desperate to trigger the life-reset protocol before my time ran out.
I felt like a monster, forcing myself onto a man who didn't even know I existed, just to keep my own heart beating. How could I ever face him if he woke up? Why did I have to be the one to pay the price for this twisted, mechanical ultimatum?
The fusion was a success, but when I woke up the next morning, the apex predator had me pinned under his massive claws, his fangs inches from my throat. I didn't beg for mercy. I stared into his feral, ice-blue eyes and made a deal that would change everything: I would be his anchor, and he would be my protector. But then I dropped the final, terrifying truth: I was pregnant, and he was the only one who could save us.
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Chapter 8
Arthur stared at the wooden box Dax had pushed back. The sheer conviction in the younger man's voice hit him like a physical blow. Fresh tears tracked through the dirt on his cheeks. He nodded frantically, his heart overflowing with gratitude. His daughter had found a male who truly understood devotion.
But Arthur was stubborn. He picked up the box and shoved it directly into Cora's hands. His tone left no room for argument. "No matter what, you keep this. For emergencies. A female must always have resources of her own."
Cora felt the heavy, pulsing warmth of the crystal against her palms. She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, slipping the box into her pocket.
Arthur wiped his face with his sleeve. His expression shifted to serious concern. "Even though you signed a private contract, you must go to the Tribal Healer for official registration and a physical checkup. Your status as a claimed female must be recorded. "
He looked at Cora, his eyes scanning her pale face. "Your body has always been fragile. You spent a night in the freezing wasteland. Dr. Dorathy Clarke needs to make sure you didn't suffer any hidden damage."
The word checkup made Cora's stomach drop. Her pulse spiked. If a healer examined her, the triplets would be exposed instantly. And her lie about the ex-boyfriend would unravel.
Dax, however, nodded in immediate agreement. His brow furrowed in deep concern. "Arthur is right. You suffered a massive 'trauma' before I found you. You need to be examined. Your health is my responsibility now. "
Cora looked at Dax's deadly serious face. He was talking about the emotional and physical trauma of being abandoned by her "ex." She wanted to scream.
She tried to backpedal. "Honestly, I feel great. We don't need to bother the healer-"
Dax cut her off. His large hand clamped around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. His voice was gentle but brokered no argument. "Be good. We aren't taking chances with your health. If she finds anything wrong, I will fix it. That is my duty as your husband."
Cora was half-carried out of the hut, Arthur watching them leave with a relieved smile. His daughter had a strong male to care for her. It was all a father could ask for.
As they walked down the muddy street toward the clinic, the whispers started again. Mutants pointed from the shadows.
Dax's sharp ears caught the venomous words.
"Look at that useless defect. Can't believe she survived..."
"Must have spread her legs for that brute. She thinks she can act like a proper female just because she caught one male... "
Dax stopped dead. His ice-blue eyes darkened to the color of a freezing ocean. A wave of pure, suffocating killing intent exploded from his body, sweeping down the street like a physical shockwave. They dared to insult his female. They would die.
The gossiping mutants choked. Their faces turned ash-white as the air was sucked from their lungs. They clamped their hands over their mouths, terrified they were about to be slaughtered.
Cora tugged hard on his sleeve. "Ignore them. They're just cowards hiding behind a fence. They are beneath us. "
Dax wrapped his hand around hers, his grip tight enough to bruise. His voice was a low, lethal rumble. "If anyone in this settlement disrespects you again, I will rip their tongues out of their skulls. You are a female. They will kneel or they will bleed."
They stopped in front of a large, sturdy wooden cabin draped in dried vines. The pungent, bitter smell of medicinal herbs wafted through the door.
Dax pushed the door open. Inside, the walls were lined with clay pots and hanging roots. An older, stern-faced female owl-mutant wearing a necklace of animal bones was grinding herbs in a stone bowl. This was Dr. Dorathy Clarke, the settlement healer.
Dr. Clarke looked up. The stone pestle slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the table. Her jaw unhinged. "Cora? By the gods, you're alive!"
The curtain to the back room was violently thrown aside. A bouncy female rabbit-mutant sprinted out. It was Niamh, Dr. Clarke's apprentice and Cora's childhood best friend.
Niamh let out an ear-piercing shriek and tackled Cora into a bone-crushing hug. "You stupid girl! I thought you were dead!"
Cora hugged her back, a genuine smile breaking through her panic.
Niamh pulled away and finally noticed the towering, terrifying man standing next to her friend. She squeaked and dove behind her mentor's back.
Dr. Clarke swallowed hard. She forced herself to step forward, her eyes darting nervously to Dax. "And... who is this?"
Cora kept it brief. "This is my first husband, Dax. My contracted partner. My dad sent us for a registration and a checkup."
Dr. Clarke instantly switched to her professional healer persona. She nodded and pointed to a wooden cot covered in a clean animal skin. "Lie down. I'll use my Wood magic to scan your vitals. We must ensure the female is healthy. "
Cora dragged her feet to the cot. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her brain spun wildly, trying to invent a lie to explain the impossible pregnancy.
Dax stood right beside the cot. He crossed his massive arms over his chest, glaring at Dr. Clarke like a guard dog ready to rip her throat out if she made a mistake. No one harmed his female. Not even a healer.
Sweating under the intense pressure, Dr. Clarke took a deep breath. She held her palm a few inches above Cora's stomach. She closed her eyes, and a soft, pulsing green light ignited from her skin.
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8.3
When Eli is forced to enroll at Blackwood Academy, he thinks it is just another remote boarding school. But on his first night, he realizes the terrifying truth.
This school is a prison.
Trapped in endless, deadly time loops, students are forced to complete cruel, supernatural trials. Ghosts, cursed hallways, hidden rules, and unspeakable creatures hunt them after dark. The only way to stay alive is to solve mysteries, earn credits, and obey the academy's twisted commands.
No one remembers how they arrived.
No one has ever graduated.
No one leaves alive.
Eli must team up with other desperate students to uncover the academy's century-old secret. If they fail, they will be trapped in the nightmare forever.
At Blackwood Academy, survival is the only exam.
8.4
Ayleen Avery was just a struggling hotel worker trying to survive her shift. But during a sudden blackout, she accidentally stumbled into the pitch-black VIP suite of a ruthless billionaire driven mad by chronic insomnia.
Calmed only by her unique natural scent of roses and rain, the terrifying man attacked her from the shadows and forced himself on her. Terrified and broken, Ayleen fled at dawn, unknowingly leaving behind her late mother's antique rose necklace in his bed.
Her greedy coworker found the necklace, claimed to be the woman from that night, and was instantly swept into a life of luxury. Meanwhile, Ayleen was blackmailed into a forced marriage with her attacker—Cassius Doyle—to save her adoptive father from prison. Deceived by the stolen necklace, Cassius believed Ayleen was a manipulative spy. He brought the coworker into their home and paraded her around the master bedroom.
"In this house, you are lower than the dirt on my shoes."
He choked Ayleen, forced her to sleep in a damp storage room, and treated her with violent disgust while pampering the thief.
Ayleen was suffocating in absolute despair. She had lost her innocence, her freedom, and her mother's only relic to a vicious liar. She couldn't understand how this all-powerful man could be so completely blind. Why couldn't he recognize the very scent that had cured his agonizing madness?
Staring at the dark bruises he had just left on her neck, Ayleen wiped the blood from her lip. She would endure this three-month marriage to secure her family's safety, but once the contract ended, she would expose the truth and tear down the fake savior he cherished so much.
8.6
I woke up choking on rotting air in an alien jungle, surrounded by giant bioluminescent ferns and a three-eyed, armor-plated beast charging straight at me.
Before the monster could tear me apart, I was saved by a squad of men with metallic wings and laser rifles, but my nightmare was just beginning.
When they brought me back to their high-tech military base, every soldier we passed stopped dead, staring at me with a feverish, starving hunger that made my skin crawl.
In the medical wing, a manic doctor bypassed all protocol, pulling out a wicked silver needle to forcibly extract my blood, looking at me not as a patient, but as a winning lottery ticket.
Even their highest-ranking commander, a giant, scarred Admiral, immediately tried to claim me, demanding I be moved into his personal bedroom for "protection."
I didn't understand why I was being treated like a caged miracle, nor why a simple, accidental touch of my hand could bring my winged protector to his knees and silence his feral instincts.
"In the Aethel Empire, there are no females," my protector whispered, his icy blue eyes filled with raw desperation. "You are the only one."
The portal that brought me here was fading, trapping me in a universe of eighty billion shapeshifting Alpha males. Looking at the terrifying devotion in his eyes, I realized my life as an ordinary human was over, and to survive this, I had to tame the beasts.
8.5
"And that is the reason why I said those words. I like your fear, not because it is a normal thing. I love it because deep down you are a monster like me, schiava. You fear me on a primal level, you can feel my power and dominance, and you know you aren't the strongest here. So you don't fear Renzo Valentino the human, you fear the monster that lurks inside."
My life changed the night of my birthday. What started as a funny dare ended with blood and having a price on my head.
I thought Renzo was the hero who saved me that night, but he was the devil who owned me forever.
I, Misha Yakov, princess of the Russian mafia became Renzo Valentino's slave.
He broke me, tortured me, and molded me into something new, something I hated and craved at the same time.
I, Misha Yakov became my master's pet.
8.8
My husband thought I was just a docile wife, easily controlled. He didn't know I'd spent five years meticulously dismantling his life. Tonight, his world would finally crumble into dust.
For five years, I endured Jackson's entitled demands and his family's greed, silently funding their lavish life in our Beverly Hills mansion.
My illusion shattered finding his mistress Amber's lingerie in his suitcase. My attorney just severed all financial ties, making Jackson's arrogant demands hollow.
I tossed my diamond ring into the trash, summoning an industrial compactor. Jackson, his mother, and mistress watched in horror as their designer luggage, bought with my money, was crushed, turning their lavish trip into garbage.
A cold, dead smile marked my cathartic release from five years of betrayal. How could they be so blind to the woman they dismissed?
Stepping into an armored Maybach, I left them in chaos. My iPad confirmed Jackson's credit cards freezing. This wasn't just divorce; it was a calculated demolition, making their pampered lives very real.
7.6
I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip.
Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes.
His pale chest was torn open to the bone.
I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop.
He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel.
And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain.
A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days.
My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid.
"Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume."
If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed.
But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap.
How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself?
I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive.
Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face.
"Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire."
This time, I will rewrite my own fate.