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#WEREWOLF
#VAMPIRE
#POSSESSIVE
#ALPHA
#SEDUCTIVE

Sweet Revenge Of Pain

The heels of her shoes were hitting the floor, making a rhythmic beat that gave off a bad vibe.   She got to where I was and crouched down to my level. "Huh, poor baby," she said in a cry-like voice as she shook her head in self-pity and patted my head, then whispered    "Shh, don't cry; it will soon be over," she said, still gently patting my head.   She brought out a small, shiny silver knife that I hadn't noticed that she had been holding for a while.   "Clara, please stop whatever you are planning to do." I pleaded in fear and looked at her in horror as I tried to process what she intended to do with the knife.    "My, my, my, someone is scared; don't worry, I won't be too hard on you." She coaxed me and laughed like a maniac when she saw the expression on my face.   "Please, for the sake of our friendship, please stop." I begged for mercy.   "Shut! Shut the fuck up!" She punched me in the face until her hand was colored with my blood.    I was too weak to fight back as she slashed my stomach slowly and deeply, making a pathway for the blood to flow freely like a stream.   "Honey, you don't have to stain your dress. Let the guards do this," Gabriel said as he saw my blood pouring out of my stomach's hundred-meter radius.   She dipped her hand forcefully into my stomach and brought out my under-formed fetus, then used the knife to cut the placenta that connected me and my baby.    She stabbed it repeatedly without mercy while I looked on in pain and helplessness as my baby died tragically before me.    "Raven! Bring the rest now!" She ordered in her authoritative tone that she normally uses whenever she wants something done with an immediate effect.   

Ada_Miniscent · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
72 Chs
#WEREWOLF
#VAMPIRE
#POSSESSIVE
#ALPHA
#SEDUCTIVE

The Severing Ritual Begins

The air inside the cave was thick with anticipation; the oppressive weight of dark magic swirled around the witches as they worked in silence. The atmosphere seemed to mirror Eleanor's inner turmoil as she paced around the ancient symbols etched into the cave floor. The sigils, drawn with meticulous care by the witches, shimmered in the flickering candlelight, casting long shadows that danced on the stone walls.

Eleanor paused, glancing toward the Dark Lord, who stood at the center of the ritual circle. His posture was calm and resolute, and his eyes showed no fear or hesitation. He had accepted his fate long before, but Eleanor couldn't help the tightening in her chest each time she looked at him. His life—his very essence—would fuel the Severing Ritual, a sacrifice that would sever Demion and Ariana's bond forever.

"Are you ready?" The Dark Lord's voice, low and steady, broke through Eleanor's thoughts. She turned to face him, her heart heavy.