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 9
The soft green light of Dr. Clarke's Wood magic swirled over Cora's stomach.
Suddenly, the healer's face froze. The color drained completely from her cheeks.
Her eyes snapped open, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She stared at Cora's abdomen as if a monster was about to burst out of it. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped down her nose.
Dax saw the terror on the healer's face. His instincts flared. He lunged forward, grabbing Dr. Clarke by the collar of her tunic and lifting her off her feet. His voice was a terrifying, icy snarl. "What is it? Is she hurt?! Tell me now! "
Dr. Clarke gasped for air, her hands clawing at Dax's iron grip. "No! Not hurt! It's... it's life!"
Dax dropped her. Dr. Clarke collapsed against the wooden table, pointing a shaking finger at Cora's stomach. Her voice cracked hysterically. "She's pregnant! And... and there are three incredibly powerful life forces in there! Three cubs! "
Niamh slapped both hands over her mouth, a muffled scream escaping her lips. "Goddess! Cora, you're pregnant?!"
Dax already "knew" this. But hearing the official confirmation sent a fresh wave of agony through his chest. His female was carrying another male's cubs. And yet he would protect them as his own. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles popped. He glared at the floor, fighting the urge to destroy something.
Cora lay stiff on the cot. She covered her face with both hands, burning with humiliation. She screamed at the system in her head to make her disappear.
But Dr. Clarke wasn't done. "I need to check the father's energy signature through the Beast Mark to determine the cubs' growth rate," she stammered. She closed her eyes again, her hands trembling as she reached out to sense the energy pulsing from the faint blue fox-tail tattoo on Cora's collarbone.
A second later, she yanked her hands back as if she had plunged them into boiling water. The absolute, terrifying suppression of a Tier-9 apex predator violently lashed out from the mark, slamming into her senses. She stumbled backward, crashing into a shelf. Clay pots shattered on the floor, scattering dried herbs everywhere.
"Impossible... this is impossible!" Dr. Clarke muttered, her eyes wide with absolute despair and sheer terror as she looked up at Dax.
Dax grabbed the healer by the shoulders, shaking her violently. "What is wrong?! Tell me!"
Dr. Clarke looked up at Dax, her teeth chattering. "Your energy... the Beast Mark! You are a Tier-9 mutant! An apex warlord! And you have submitted to her as her first husband!" she gasped, the revelation shattering the fragile peace of the room. Her eyes darted back to Cora in horror, completely misunderstanding the situation as she sensed the resonance. "And the cubs... they are drawing on his Tier-9 anchor to survive! Their innate energy levels are terrifyingly high. They are high-tier mutants! They will kill a defective mother! "
The clinic fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Even Niamh stopped breathing.
In the wasteland, the laws of biology were absolute. A mother's energy had to match her cubs. If a low-tier female carried high-tier cubs, it was a death sentence. She was carrying three ticking time bombs.
Dr. Clarke turned to Cora. Her eyes were filled with pity and profound grief. "Cora... your genetic defect is too severe. Your body cannot provide the massive amount of energy they need to grow."
She swallowed hard. "In less than a month, those high-tier cubs will drain your life force completely. The energy backlash will cause you to... explode. You will die. Your first husband's power is too great for your body to support. "
Even though Cora knew the system would keep her alive, hearing the words explode and die sent a violent shiver down her spine. Her stomach cramped in fear.
Dax heard the death sentence.
His brain snapped.
A guttural, demonic roar ripped from his throat. His eyes flashed a blinding, glowing red. The sheer, unadulterated fury of a Tier-9 apex predator exploded from his body. His female was dying because of his power. His strength was killing her.
The wooden window shutters blew outward, shattering into splinters. The remaining clay pots exploded into dust. The crushing pressure forced Dr. Clarke and Niamh to their knees, pinning them to the floor as they gasped for air.
"I will not let her die!" Dax roared, his voice shaking the foundation of the cabin. "She is my female! My purpose! I will find a way!"
He spun around and dropped to his knees beside the cot. He dragged Cora into his chest, wrapping his massive arms around her. He held her so tight her ribs ached, burying his face in her neck. His massive body was trembling violently. He was terrified. He had finally found a female to serve, and he was going to lose her.
Cora gasped for breath against his chest. She lifted her hands and wrapped them around his broad back. "Dax, stop. Calm down. I'm not going to die. Trust me. Your female commands you to calm yourself. "
Dax took a ragged, shuddering breath. He forced the violent energy back into his core, his eyes still burning red as he glared down at Dr. Clarke. "How do we save her? Tell me the price. I will pay it. I will tear the world apart. "
Dr. Clarke wiped the sweat from her eyes, struggling to speak under the lingering pressure. "The only way... is to forcefully raise Cora's energy tier before the cubs form. She needs to reach at least Tier-2 to survive the drain. She must become strong enough to wield the power her husband has given her. "
She shook her head in despair. "But it's impossible. Her defect makes absorbing cores incredibly slow. We don't have the time-"
A flash of absolute, manic determination crossed Dax's face.
He reached into Cora's pocket and yanked out the wooden box Arthur had given them. He flipped the lid open. The Tier-3 Wood core pulsed with green light.
Dax grabbed the crystal in his fist. He looked down at Cora, his voice hard as steel. "Then we upgrade you right now. I will force it into your veins myself. You will not die. I refuse to lose my female."
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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.