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The Wolf Sea

Part Wolf

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT An unwarranted death, an unprecedented rebirth, two men vying for her love. Elize's life was not easy to begin with, but now she has to fight her own destiny. Will she want to return to what was hers? Or will she choose to ignore it? Is she strong enough to face her fate? Then what about love? GLIMPSES (P.S. Contains spoilers, read at your own discretion) : As she drew closer to the door, she could clearly hear two men bickering "I swear if you lay a finger-" Deep breath. Elize repeated to herself as she pushed the door open. Two heads whipped towards her direction from the corridor to which the door opened. The conversation between them seemed to have died down with her presence. One of the two tall men stepped towards her. An animalistic growl emanated from his body. Elize narrowed her eyes and was about to say something when she noticed it. Those eyes. Those same blue eyes! ********* "Who's there?!" She asked aloud, unable to find anyone. 'You have come at last.' The voice replied, a hint of joy in its tone. She gulped her saliva nervously. "Who- who's there?!" Elize stuttered. 'I am what is missing from you.' The voice replied, calmly. "Huh?" 'Since our time has not yet come to become one, why may I ask are you here?' The voice asked. "I uh.." She said absentmindedly. 'Let us seal our bond with a wish, that I may accept you as my master.' The voice spoke with much enthusiasm. ****** "Do you hate me Elize?" He asked, with a pout. Elize maintained her poker face. She was not going to fall for it no matter how cute he tried to act, she thought to herself. "No I don't sir. I don't even know you." She replied nonchalantly. "Ouch. That hurt." He said, clutching the place above his heart. Elize huffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you really have something to say or should I come back later?" She asked, folding her hands above her chest. "Would you come back to me later, on your own accord?" He teased, almost reaching her. "That's not what I-" The Kelpie's laughter cut her off. "You're so cute when you do that. It makes me want to bite you." He said licking his lips, his wet tongue gliding over his moist lips slowly, making a show of the process. Teaser is on the Instagram page : author_obsessedwithwolves Join our discord- https://discord.gg/Nrj87UT
obsessedWithWolves · 3.6M Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 707.6K Views

The wolf and the gnome

Theron and Kael have been inseparable since childhood—a clever, sarcastic gnome and a confident, troublemaking werewolf prince. Together, they’ve terrorized their teachers, stolen cookies from the palace kitchens, and declared themselves “brothers for life.” But when Theron accidentally discovers he’s Kael’s fated mate, he knows the universe must have made a mistake. Why? Because Kael has spent years describing his dream mate in nauseating detail: “Big-breasted, long-haired, and so hot they’d melt snow just by walking into a room.” Theron stares at his reflection. Flat chest? Check. Short hair? Double check. Definitely not hot enough to melt snow. The Moon Goddess must be having a bad day. His solution? Pretend he doesn’t know. Ignorance is bliss, right? Hide, Gnomes were best at hiding. Except Kael eventually finds out. And chaos ensues. “You’re my mate?” “Uh… no, I’m not. You’ve got the wrong gnome. Goodbye!” Theron yells, making a break for it. Kael isn’t having it. He chases him down like a wolf on a hunt. “You think you can outrun me? You’re like, three .” “Four feet!” Theron snaps, before getting tackled. Now, Theron is stuck with a mate who won’t take no for an answer. “You said you like big-breasted girls! Look at me—I’m a twig!” Kael shrugs, grinning. “I’ve decided I like twigs.” “What about long hair?” “Yours is short, but it’s cute.” Theron throws up his hands. “I’m not sexy!” Kael smirks. “Not yet. But give me some time.”
Maya_J02 · 25.1K Views
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